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touch with reality.
    How to get down? Back the way I came or…no…the fire-escape ladder would do just fine. Faster and more fun.
    I climbed over the wall and stepped down onto the second rung. I pulled the cuffs of my hoodie to cover my palms, cupped the outside of the railing with the inside arch of my cross trainers and let myself slide down the rest of the way. My descent—a blur of speed, but light and controlled. A foot from the ground, I pushed off the rail and landed. Feet planted firmly, bent knees absorbing the impact.
    The shocked face of a guy about Supersize’s age filled my vision. Bony shoulders, thin frame. He’d been limping along, but my dramatic entrance on the sidewalk made him come to a full stop.
    “Having fun?” he asked. His voice surprisingly high-pitched.
    “Time of my life.” I paused, taking in the guy’s fine features, the flash of something in his dark eyes. Panic? Desperation? Charged from the climb but craving more action, I spun on my heel and started down the sidewalk in a light jog. Whatever his trouble, I had enough of my own. Besides, he looked like he’d live to fight the good fight yet another day.
    Not everyone was so lucky.
    A few minutes later I hopped onto the deck of Big Daddy — AKA my secret hideaway that could someday be a lifesaving getaway—my own houseboat. I turned on the sink faucet and poured a steady stream of water into a small potted plant I’d named Charlie. I had a thing about that plant. Diesel was allergic to pets and plants alike. This little green mass with its bright yellow blooms was the only living thing I’d been able to care for and call my own. The boat was my ticket to freedom. If things got too hairy with Diesel, I’d simply untie the lines and go.
    In theory.
    But there were more than a few ropes holding me to Diesel. He’d taken me off the streets. Given me a roof over my head and a job to do, and surrounded me with people I considered family. I wouldn’t leave him in the lurch. Not when there was a price on his head if he didn’t keep the suits happy. And if Supersize wasn’t ready to take on my usual duties, I’d have to stay.
    Screw Sennway and her dinner-by-five, in-bed-by-nine high-school-teacher view of why kids stay in gangs. This wasn’t just looking for a place to belong. This was family. And family was everything—especially when you didn’t have one of your own.
    Or you did.
    But they chose drugs over you long ago.

FIVE
    Later that night I was in the thick of it with my “family,” but I wasn’t feeling the love. In fact, I was feeling a lot like a glorified evil-crime nanny. One whose charges were being troublesome because they were actually behaving properly.
    We didn’t need proper. We needed more product. Diesel had sent two teams out, pitting us against each other in a “bit of friendly competition”—winners would have two nights of freedom. Kat was heading up the other team, and I had to admit Diesel’s plan was working.
    I wanted to win. I could do a lot in two nights of no reporting back to the shop. Make sure my boat was stocked with supplies. Wrap my head around what I was going to do about Emmett.
    But winning meant bringing in the best haul. My crew had been scouting the dark streets of a run-down residential area on the edge of the city center, and so far we hadn’t bagged a single set of wheels.
    “What is wrong with you guys?” I placed my hands on my hips. “You heard Diesel. Our average three cars a night isn’t enough. Not anymore. Anything with a decent engine is a target at this point. And you four”—I nodded to Supersize and the three guys standing around him—“will stick to the houses. Get in, grab what you can, get out.”
    “This is bull.” Supersize hunched his shoulders. “I should be shadowing you, not back on break-ins.”
    I sighed. We’d been over this already. “Look, you started with houses. It’s what you’re best at”—I spoke over Supersize’s mulish