Battle Scars by Sheryl Nantus Read Free Book Online

stop those two once they got on a binge. They disappeared, they came back. We all did. You remember.”
    “Yeah, I do.” Bran tilted his head to one side. “Where did you go?”
    “Don’t ask.” A shadow crossed her features, vanishing a second later. “I might have to go there again if this deal goes south.” Angie took a step back and turned toward me. “So what brings you downtown?”
    I took the initiative. “We’re looking for two kids. Hit the streets in the last day or so.”
    “Yours?” Her attention went back to Bran. The single word held a bookful of questions.
    “No.” He moved to stand beside me. “Pair of lovebirds ran away together. Parents want them home, you know the routine.”
    “I’m familiar with that tune.” She nodded toward the thinning group of young men and women. “Romeo and Juliet. Never goes out of style. You got some pictures?”
    I pulled out the two photographs.
    Angie studied them for a long minute, her forehead furrowed in thought. Finally she shook her head.
    “Can’t say they’re familiar. Of course we’re getting more in every day with the economy crashing and burning...” She waved toward the teenagers already wandering off as the food disappeared. “They might not have even made it here or gotten the word we exist yet. There’s other outreach programs they could have tripped into.”
    “How many times a day do you distribute?” I asked.
    “Only once, lunch from eleven until eleven-thirty. We do a clothing exchange from four until five and a street van cruises around with first aid supplies overnight from midnight until three. Front door stays open all day for a drop-in center for free counseling and temporary shelter from bad weather but we don’t let them hang out. They come in and go before we end up with a mob scene. Plenty of gangs looking to score new members or expand their territory. I don’t let them get a foothold.” Angie sighed. “We used to run twenty-four hours a day but across the board government grants have been cut back and we had to do the same. A month ago we started hustling for food donations from the local restaurants with the promise that the kids won’t hang out in front of them and beg off their customers.”
    “Extortion,” I said.
    She glared at me. “Efficient use of resources. Do you know how much food goes to waste because of silly regulations preventing it from being resold?”
    “Tell me.” I suddenly realized I’d stepped closer to the tall woman, almost hitting the edge of her running shoes with my own.
    Her eyes narrowed. I spotted the steel under the silk, the hardness from living on the streets simmering under the surface. This wasn’t some kid playing at being a street tough. This was a woman who, if she’d been born Felis, would be brawling her way to the top of any Pride she belonged to.
    Her thin nostrils flared, drawing more oxygen in. I imagined her pulse accelerating, the blood pounding in her ears as she prepared to fight.
    “Angie,” Bran interrupted, “where’s the hot spots to crash at night? Don Heights still good?”
    He touched the small of my back, pinching my jacket, and tugged me back an inch, just enough to break the connection.
    She turned her attention back to him with a wide smile, dropping her battle stance. “Still the best place to be. Remember how we used to sleep in the trees at night?” The hopeful lilt in her voice sent my blood pressure soaring.
    “My back remembers,” he replied with a laugh. “Maybe we’ll head on over there when it gets dark and see what we can find. The Commons still good?”
    She paused and chewed on her lower lip before answering. “Controlled now by the Bloor Street Boys. But it’s still safe during daylight hours if you’re looking for a place to crash.”
    He pulled out one of his business cards and handed it to her. “Call us if you see either one of them. Still underage and parents want them home. You know the story.”
    Angie giggled before