The anger was no longer directed at her.
It was directed at the city.
He looked around the alley.
A seventeen-year-old girl was sleeping beside garbage containers while an entire system that claimed to protect children had forgotten she existed.
Cole planted his cane in the gravel.
"What now?" he repeated.
Then he looked directly at Riley.
"Now you pack your things."
Riley blinked.
"Why?"
"Because you're done sleeping in the rain."
The Fortress
The clubhouse looked more like a fortress than a home.
Chain-link fences surrounded the property.
Security cameras watched every entrance.
Iron gates protected the driveway.
Riley sat in Wade's truck, staring through the windshield.
She could still leave.
Wade opened his door.
"The door's unlocked."
Riley looked at him.
"You can go back to the bridge," he said. "Or you can come inside and eat something that didn't come from a dumpster."
Then he walked away.
Riley stared into the darkness beyond the gate.
The streets were familiar.
Cold.
Lonely.
Dangerous.
Inside was unknown.
She followed Wade.
The clubhouse smelled like coffee, leather, tobacco, and motor oil.
Men sitting at a table looked up.
Nobody smiled.
Nobody welcomed her.
But Cole gave them one short nod.
The men looked away.
That was all.
Riley understood.
She was under protection.
Later, Jensen put a plate of food in front of her.
Steak.
Potatoes.
Vegetables.
Riley stared at it.
"When do I pay you back?"
Jensen frowned.
"For what?"
"The food."
He looked genuinely confused.
"You eat it."
Riley slowly picked up the fork.
That night, she slept on a leather sofa under a clean wool blanket.
For the first time in years, she slept without one eye open.
Roxanne
Three weeks passed.
Riley expected conditions.
There were none.
Nobody demanded labor.
Nobody demanded loyalty.
Nobody asked questions she wasn't ready to answer.
They simply gave her food.
A bed.
Warm clothes.
Space.
Then Cole took her to Harborview Hospital.
Roxanne was sitting upright when Riley entered.