Jersey Six(11)

“Yes.” He picked up his pace, sidling next to her. “I’m going to Marley’s.”

With a quick sideways glance, she grunted. “You’re stupider than you look.”

“Ya think?” Ian cupped his hands at his mouth and blew into them. “I haven’t been here in years. Yesterday, someone saw me wearing an old shirt that said Marley’s on it. They told me that it’s shutting down. I have part of the day off, sort of … so I felt compelled to come say a silent goodbye to some of my past.”

“Marley is dead.”

“I know. I heard that.” Ian stopped twenty feet from the door to the rundown gym.

Jersey halted several feet farther and turned around.

Slowly, almost reverently, Ian removed his sunglasses, focusing on the faded, burnt orange sign missing the M and L.

“You coming inside?”

Ian’s head inched side to side. “No. Some people would be a little pissed off at me if I risked my pretty head.”

“I’ll protect you.”

His right brow inched up his forehead as his focus shifted to meet her gaze.

“Twenty bucks will buy you ten minutes to look around. I can keep you unscathed for that long.”

“What are you? Five-six?”

“Five-seven.” She pushed her shoulders back, struggling to show him her true strength. Yeah, five feet seven inches of bones wrapped in hard-earned muscles—but where muscles didn’t hide bones, those bones protruded. Bony hips. Knees and elbows. Her cheekbones protruded. Lack of regular meals made it impossible to hide her angular face, gaunt and emaciated.

“You couldn’t keep ahold of two dollars in change for your lunch, yet I’m supposed to trust you with my pretty head?”

Jersey crossed her arms over her chest and flipped out her hip.

Ian smirked. “It’s fine.” His gaze made a slow sweep along the length of the building. “This is good. This is enough.”

Good.

Enough.

Nothing kept her there, yet she didn’t walk away. In many ways, life ended at fifteen for the girl who couldn’t turn around and walk away. In the span of thirty minutes, Ian gave her a glimpse of something. What? She didn’t know.

“You really sleep here?”

Jersey’s gaze lifted from the ground, her concentration trying to define the unfamiliar feeling in her gut. “Yes.”

“Where will you go when it permanently closes?”

“I don’t know.”

He studied her more, pressing his lips together, slipping his hands into his front pockets. “What if I offered you a job? Would you be interested?”

“Um … you’re offering me a job?”

His eyebrows squeezed together. After a few seconds, he returned an uneasy nod.

“We just met … on the street.”

He continued with his slow nod. “I realize this.”

“Something legal?”

Ian grinned. “Yes.”

Jersey waited for him to say more, change his mind, withdraw his knee-jerk offer. “I’d take it …” her lips twisted to the side “…well …”

“Well what?”

“I have a friend. We kinda agreed to look out for each other. So it would have to be something close by.”

Ian released a slow breath as he hooked his sunglasses onto the top of his jacket. “What if …” he narrowed his eyes, pausing again like something in his head was at war “…I can get jobs for both of you?”

“Are you serious?” Her head jutted outward.

He glanced around uneasily. “Serious.”

“Sold.”

He widened his eyes, lips parted. “O … kay then. I’ll have a car pick you and your friend up…” he cocked his arm out in front of his face, glancing at his watch “…around three. Have your stuff packed.”

“Stuff packed? What do you mean? Where are we going?”

“It’s a traveling gig.”

“Traveling?” Jersey’s nose scrunched.

“Yes. You’ll stay in a bus or at hotels.”

“I can’t afford—”

“You won’t have to pay for them, and food will be provided.”

“Traveling around New Jersey?”

Ian bobbed his head side to side. “Think bigger.”

“I can’t think bigger. I’ve never left New Jersey.”

“Ever?”

She shook her head.

Ian pulled his charcoal gray beanie from his head, leaving a messy case of hat head. He took five long strides and slid the beanie onto Jersey’s head.

“Why?” she whispered.

“You said it yourself; it’s a warm hat.”

“No. Why are you offering a complete stranger a job?”

His gaze swept along her face and up to the hat on her head of long, dark hair. It rested there for a few silent seconds. “Just a feeling.”

No person had ever made her feel more vulnerable than Ian did in that moment. After years of having nothing, the homelessness became its own comfort. She accepted her life’s circumstances.

Nothing felt like something.

Lost became its own home.

Dreams died.