“And…”

“And nothing. I think that about covers everything I know about you guys.”

Thus began a long, long, loooong lecture on all things Shifter (included how it was “us” instead of “you guys”) by Professor Liam Dry-As-Burnt-Toast Cole. By the time we pulled into a parking lot of a garage on the outskirts of Houston I was contemplating fashioning a noose out of the seatbelt.

“I don’t think they’re open,” I said as he cut off the engine.

Liam just glared and told me to stay put. Curiously, he seemed nervous as he knocked on the office door. Even more curious, someone actually answered it. I couldn’t really tell much because the light bombarding the darkness was blinding, but I thought there were several someones inside. Four minutes later, he came to get me.

“Keep your head down and don’t say anything,” he said under his breath as we walked towards the building. “Nothing, Scout. No words of wisdom. No questions. Just keep your mouth shut. Got it?”

“I don’t know. Do you think you could explain it to me in more detail? Maybe give me some examples?”

I’m not sure where the ability to actually snip back at Liam was coming from. Either I was finally growing comfortable with him after so much time together, or Wolf Scout was still close to the surface. Then again, it could be that what my mom referred to as my “Good Sense Filter” was broken again.

Liam led me into an office, which was indeed filled with people. There was a guy either asleep or passed out on an old ratty couch in the corner. His skin and hair were dark, and his arms were covered in tattoos, several of them written in Spanish. A woman sat next to his feet, eyes glued to the phone in her hand. Another guy, who looked like he was maybe a brother to the unconscious guy, sat at a desk. His gaze was critical and assessing. A third guy sat on the edge of the desk, tossing a ball in the air. He was the only white guy in the room, so of course he was the one to greet me with a “Hey, Chica.” None of them seemed to notice the toddler crying in the middle of the floor.

“So, this is your girl?” the guy behind the desk asked.

Liam wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tucked me into his side. It took some effort to override my instinct to stomp on his foot. “Elizabeth, this is Diaz, a friend of mine from way back. He might be able to help us find a place to stay for a little while.”

Since I wasn’t allowed to speak, I just kind of shook my head a little bit. I was really more concerned about the poor kid, who had graduated from full-on tantrum to tiny defeated sobs. My hand itched to grab a tissue and wipe the snot off his face.

“Turn around for me, Beth.”

Since the guy reminded me of a Mexican Shawn Michaels from Dad’s Monday night wrestling show, I complied.

“Not bad,” Diaz said. “Tight, young body. Average face. You’ll need to get some new clothes, but Trina can help you out.”

I was still confused, but apparently Liam had caught on because he was well beyond pissed. “No,” he ground out. “She’s with me. She’s not working the streets.”

Working the streets? What…?

Oh. My. God.

“You want me to be a hooker?” I completely forgot my orders to keep my mouth shut. “Are you insane?”

White Guy laughed. “Ooooh… She’s all sweet and innocent, too. That’ll definitely jack up the price the first few times.”

I buried an elbow in Liam’s hip to keep him in place, although I really wanted to stab White Boy in the eye with an ice pick myself.

Diaz leaned back in his office chair and stretched his beefy arms over his head. “I thought you needed money,” he said to Liam.

“I do, but I’ll work for it.” His arm tightened around my shoulders. “Leave her out of it.”

The kid on the floor started screaming again.

“I don’t know, friend.” Diaz sat back up and shrugged as if he somehow regretted what he was saying. “Around here, everyone contributes. That’s how a family operates, everyone pulling their weight. Now, either your girl here is part of our family and has a place to stay for a while, or she’s not.”

Liam’s body tensed. For a guy who was usually so closed off and stoic, his internal conflict was amazingly obvious on his face. He wanted to tell Diaz to go and do inappropriate things to himself, but he was counting on whatever arrangement this was working out. I knew we needed the money. The roll of bills I found obscenely huge when we first started our journey was getting rather small. How much more did we have? How long would we survive on it? And for the love of all things shiny, would someone please shut that kid up so I could actually think?

And just like that, inspiration struck. “I can babysit,” I said. To prove my point, I shrugged off Liam’s arm so I could go scoop the kid off the ground. He kept crying, and looked more than a little frightened, but I bounced him up and down a few times while making shushing noises until he calmed. “See? He likes me.”

“She’s a girl, genius,” White Boy said.

“She’s not crying,” I countered.

Diaz laughed. “She’s got you there, Fists.” He stood up, which meant I got to see how he wasn’t even as tall as I was. His muscles might have had muscles, but he was kind of a shrimp. Liam completely dwarfed him as Diaz walked over and stuck out a hand. “Welcome to the family.”

“We’re glad to be here,” Liam answered for the both of us.

***

“Here” ended up being a tiny ancient camper. Once Diaz and Trina, the iPhone girl, left, we tried to make ourselves at home. Liam claimed the bed that ran along the back wall, which meant I was left to sleep on the one that folded out of the wall above the kitchen area. The microwave didn’t work, but the miniature fridge did. The bathroom was small and disgusting, but sadly that was the sort of thing I had grown accustomed to during our tour of the nation's crappiest motels.

“Not to alarm you or anything, but I think you just made a deal with a Mexican gang.” I’ve read Simone Elkeles’s books. I know how this whole garage as a front thing works.

“Don’t worry about it. Just keep your head down and your mouth shut from now on.” I thought about suggesting he get that tattooed somewhere on his body, but decided he might think it was a better idea to tattoo it on me instead.