Page 106 of Fury

“I’ve had my fill of second chances, Tan. Girls like me have a limited number. You wouldn’t understand. Thank your God that you never will.”

She only squeezed my hand tighter, and I squeezed back.

A small car approached, slowing down. Stephanie’s red Honda Accord ground to a halt alongside us, the engine running.

Tania and I hugged. Tears and laughter and promises surged up like frothing bubbles in that embrace. “I love you,” she whispered, her voice tight.

“I love you too.”

“We’re soul sisters, you and me,” Tania said. “I’ll always be there for you, no matter what. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t. Same goes for me.”

“Let me come visit you. Just once. Just—”

“No, Tania. We agreed.”

We let go, both of us wiping at our faces.

“And no more tears,” I said.

She sniffed. “Right.”

I took one duffel and Tania took the other, and we shoved them in Stephanie’s trunk. I got my ass in the front seat and left Chicago behind me.

For about a year Iwandered through a few states, then I decided on a new frontier—California. First, I returned to Chicago to ask Turo for a favor. I’d fed him plenty of information before I’d left and stayed in touch and answered any random questions, confirmed names.

“It was by far one of the best ideas I’ve ever had.” Turo sat down at the other end of the same bench as me in Olive Park, pretending to talk on his cell phone. He still wore that same unique fragrance. The crispness of it made my insides stand at attention. Or was it the brittle memories of the time I’d spent with him?

“What’s that?” I asked quietly, pretending to read a fashion magazine.

“The information you gave me made a huge difference this past year. I used them little by little, month by month.”

“I don’t want to know details. Although I may have read about a few deaths in the newspaper.”

He let out one of those expressive sighs of his—an audible smirk. “That’s just on the surface.”

“Well, I’m happy you’re happy.”

“We should celebrate.”

“We don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.” He crossed his finely trousered legs, a dark argyle patterned sock peeking out under the cuff, just over his Italian leather shoes. “I haven’t seen you in a long while. Too long.”

“I picked up a few jobs out of town,” I lied.

“Are you back for good now?”

“No.”

“I’ll take you out tonight.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” I closed the magazine and lifted my face toward the rays of the sun, my eyes closed.

“Ciara is out of town.” He’d read my mind.

“Ciara has friends all over town,” I replied.

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