Battle Scars by Sheryl Nantus Read Free Book Online Page A

stuffing the card into a front pocket. “You got it. Show me the pics one more time.”
    I handed copies over. “Keep them. Feel free to pass them around, see if anyone’s seen them on their travels.”
    She scrutinized them for a few seconds more before adding them to Bran’s card. “I’ll call if they show up here or at the overnight shelter down at the church.” One hand gestured down the street. “St. Mary’s opens a few beds every night down at Church and King. Not too many spots and it fills fast but you never know.” She smiled at Bran. “Hot summer nights are great to sleep out under the stars. Remember?”
    I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. He wasn’t catching what she was pitching, intentionally or unintentionally.
    Good for both of them.
    Bran took my hand. “Thanks, Angie. We’ll be in touch.”
    She waved as he turned away and led me down the street, maneuvering between clumps of tourists, street kids and locals trying to figure out what to make of the first two groups.
    Bran’s grip was so tight I feared for my circulation. I tugged lightly and was rewarded with an even more restraining clutch.
    I wasn’t breaking free without a fight.
    “Here.” He pushed us toward a coffee shop.
    “I’m not thirsty.”
    “Yes you are. Don’t think I didn’t see what was going on.” He held the door open for me, practically pushing me through.
    “What?” I stuffed my hands in my pockets, ignoring my aching fingers. This wasn’t the place to throw a tantrum, no matter how tempting it was.
    Bran ordered two coffees and turned back to me. “You were greener than green can get.”
    “Me?”
    The squeak in my voice gave me away.
    The barista interrupted, sliding the two drinks onto the marble counter. I took the first cardboard cup and headed for a window table. Bran followed after snagging a handful of sugar packets and stir sticks.
    He emptied one sugar into his black coffee and dumped the rest in one pocket.
    “For later.”
    I didn’t question his money-saving techniques. Instead I stirred my drink and stuck the hot plastic into my mouth.
    It gave me a reason to grind my teeth together.
    “Don’t.” This time it was more of a warning than a request. “Don’t do this, Rebecca.”
    The fact that he used my full name made it worse.
    I chewed on the black toothpick.
    “You want to find these kids, right? Well, we’re going to have to deal with Angie at some point. It’s better than nothing.”
    I chomped down on the stir stick. “She tried to mount you right in front of me.” My voice rose enough to draw the attention of the other customers. “In front of me.”
    “Angie—” He licked his lips. “Angie’s a handful and a half. She crushed on me the first day I met the gang and propositioned me that night.”
    The edges of the plastic stick grated against the inside of my cheek. “And?”
    He glared at me. “What sort of guy do you think I am? I said no. She was barely sixteen, if that.”
    I returned the glare with interest. “If I recall correctly you were supposed to be a bit of a horn dog before we met.”
    Bran snorted. “There’s a difference between dating a grown woman and grabbing jailbait.” He leaned in, trying to ignore the questioning looks from the spectators. “I told her to knock it off. I’m not a crib robber and I sure as hell was never into taking advantage of any women, no matter her age.”
    “She’s older now.”
    His shoulders slumped. “And just as annoying. You don’t think I knew she was copping a feel? Damned girl practically had her hands down my pants.”
    “I noticed.” I pulled the chewed stick out and sipped the drink.
    “Don’t be hating.” He reached out and tapped the edge of my nose. “I’m yours and you know that.”
    “Don’t mean I gave up the right to be pissed and think about scratching her eyes out.”
    “As long as you remember whose bed I’m headed for every night.” Bran picked up my hand and pressed my palm to his