Even in my own head, it sounds so callous. Is that who I am now? A callous, bitter girl? Is that who he made me into? Someone who no longer cares about love or dreams about being with one man who will love me for me for the rest of my life? It’s what I used to dream. Before Warner.

“Excuse me, sweetie. Do you mind?”

I spin and find a woman curiously watching me. The woman is stunning. She wears minimal make-up and has pretty, blue eyes and Angelina lips. She’s somewhat of a cross between a beauty queen and a rock groupie with the most amazing chestnut-colored hair. It’s beautiful, thick, and shiny like hair on those hair product commercials. She’s dressed to the nines in designer skinny jeans, black kick-ass heels, and a red and black shirt showing off her ample cleavage.

I’m instantly envious of her natural beauty and clean, trendy clothing because clearly, this woman isn’t scraping by like I am. For the millionth time I wonder what it would be like to not constantly be aware of the lack of money in my pocket.

Slowly but surely, I beat back the green monster rising inside me. I hate jealousy. I hate seeing it and I hate feeling it. It’s like a disease that festers if you feed it, so I don’t. I learned long ago I needed to appreciate me for me, and not make myself sick envying others.

A hard feat when you consider I grew up with Sundown who looks like a modern day version of Pocahontas with blue eyes.

“Do ya mind if I just . . . reach past you, pumpkin?” The woman gives me a warm smile and gestures forward.

“Pumpkin?”

She points to my right hand.

“Oh, right,” I say.

After a couple of seconds of awkward silence, she motions toward my hand again. “Cute. For your daughter?”

For some reason I can’t explain, I hide the necklace behind me. “No. I-It’s for me.”

Her smile fades a bit as if she can sense the lie. She adjusts her purse over her shoulder and her gaze roams over me. Our eyes meet again, as she asks, “Are you okay?”

This time I want to tell her the truth. But I don’t. I nod and say, “Yeah, I’m fine.” Then realizing I’m still standing in her way, I sidestep. “Sorry . . . I’ll just—”

She waves me off. “No worries.”

She steps up and scans the condoms. Like a homing beacon, my gaze zeroes in on the boxes her hand hovers over, and then nearly pop out of their sockets as she drops not one or two, but five large boxes of condoms into her basket.

Different kinds and sizes.

My throat thickens up as if filled with cotton.

Seeing my face she explains, “Um . . . they’re not all for me. My uh . . . friends wanted me to grab them some too.”

“Oh. Right.” But even I can hear the doubt in my voice.

After a long pause during which she studies me, she hikes her thumb over her shoulder. “Well, I guess I better get going.”

“Sure, me too.”

“You sure you’re okay?”

I nod.

Then I just stand there and watch her leave. At the end of the aisle, she turns back, graces me again with her smile, and gives a somewhat hesitant wave.

After she’s gone, I sigh, and trudge off in the opposite direction.

For a moment, I’m caught up in the ‘what if’s’. What if my mother hadn’t left? What if Sundown had been able to support Will by herself? What if I’d finished school? What if I hadn’t been so desperate for help? Would I have fallen for Warner? Or was this always my path?

I don’t regret Will for a second, I’m happy to be a part of her life. I take pride in the fact I helped raise her. Supported her. Hell for a long while there, I’d been acting as her mother. But I still wonder if things could’ve been different? Did I make a wrong decision somewhere?

I hear static first, a split second before I run smack dab into a beefy chest. My eyes travel up over a black uniform, a fit torso and I quickly survey the badges and the patches on his arm.

Fear rushes through me like a freight train.

A cop. A city cop. But a cop nonetheless.

For a few seconds I’m paralyzed.

“Whoa, pretty thing. Look where you’re going. You could’ve hurt somebody.” I meet his eyes briefly, which are focused on my face. The side of his mouth is kicked up in a polite smile.

His nametag reads, “Officer Davis.” He has mouse brown hair cut in a flat top, and his ears stick out a bit. He looks like a drill sergeant. He’s not handsome per se, but not unpleasant looking either. His uniform is impeccably ironed. I’m close enough that I can smell the starch on his shirt.

Or at least I am until he bends down and reaches out. He stands and holds out a box of condoms to me. It’s not until then that I realize I dropped them.

“Uh . . . thanks.” I quickly grab the box and hide it behind my back. I attempt to scurry past him, but he catches my arm at my elbow and stops me.

A spike of fear runs my body. No. Please no.

My eyes slide over his utility belt and land on his handcuffs. Memories like on a film reel flash through my mind. It took hours to get out of the last set of cuffs that were around my wrists. I doubt I can do that again.

“You look familiar. Do I know you?” He examines my face.

My breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

Stop looking at him I scold myself. I need him to forget about me after this moment. Not haul me off or remember my face. Looking down, I say, “No, I don’t think so.”

Heels click on the vinyl flooring.

“There you are. I figured I’d find you on this aisle.” The rocker groupie chick threads her arm around mine and pulls me close to her and away from the cop.

Huh? I blink at her.

I get the feeling she’s trying to say something with only expressive eyes and a tight smile. But I have no idea what.

Then her gaze shifts to the cop. “Davis. What are you doing here? Why are you bothering my cousin?” Her words reek of annoyance.

“Lily . . . been a while.”

Putting her other hand on her hip, she says, “You didn’t answer my question.”

He shrugs, “No law against grocery shopping. At least not that I’m aware of.” He reaches out, grabs a box of medicine from the shelf, and holds it up for her to see. “But since I ran into you . . . I might as well ask . . . You change your mind?”

She inhales a long breath and slowly shakes her head a few times. “Nope. And I won’t. But I’ll let the club know we ran into each other. Here of all places. Goose will be real interested to know you’re still tailing me. Still harassing me.”

“Lucky coincidence is all.”

“I’m sure,” she replies saucily.

Popping his chin in my direction, he asks, “Cousin, huh?” He eyes her skeptically.

Without looking at me, she responds, “Yeah. This is Pumpkin. She’s visiting from Georgia.” I try not to cringe at the name Pumpkin and go along with the lie she’s given him.

Hooking his thumbs into his waistband, he asks, “Really . . . ? And you’re picking her up at a grocery store?”

“How do you know I’m picking her up here if you’re not following me?”

“Good guess.” He grins and winks at me.

She gives my arm a little tug. “Come on, Pumpkin. We gotta get going. I told Goose I’d be back to the clubhouse in an hour. I can’t wait to introduce you to the guys. Davis, let’s not meet like this again.”

We’re halfway down the aisle when he calls after me. “Hey, Pumpkin?” We both tense. I pinch my eyes shut, but I know it’s not a figment of my imagination. He repeats the nickname. “It was Pumpkin, right?”

My heartbeat speeds up. My hands begin to shake.

I swivel around. “Yeah. Got the name because of the hair.” I tuck a loose strand behind my ear.

His dark eyes narrow on my face. “Next time, watch where you’re going, all right? We don’t want anyone getting hurt, do we?” I don’t miss the change in his tone or the way his right hand rests on his gun. His smile has changed from cocky to cunning.