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I’d already finished packing my clothes, the living room, and the bathroom by the time I heard Boris ’s bike pulling into the driveway. Well, wasn’t that just craptastic … I’d planned to be gone before he got home, but if he wanted a fight, I’d give him one. I might not have my life entirely together, but I was pretty sure about one thing—parties that ended with stabbings weren’t part of the long-term plan. Neither was being tied to a man in prison, working as a stripper, or worrying about whether or not I was safe without a goddamned brand across my back like a f*cking cow. I’d started throwing Noah’s clothes into the suitcase when Boris ’s boots thudded down the stairs. He paused in my kitchen and I heard the sound of water filling a glass. So, now it wasn’t good enough for him to put
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