“Hey, Pigeon.”“Everything okay?”“It is now,” he said, pulling me against him.”

“My eyes filled with tears. “Get out.”“Pigeon,” he said, taking a step toward me.“Get OUT!” I said, grabbing the glass from the night stand and throwing it at him. He ducked, and it shattered against the wall in hundreds of tiny, glistening shards. “I hate you!”

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, Pigeon.”“Just remember that when I take all of your money in the next poker game,” I said, pulling off my shirt.”

“He won't hurt you, Pigeon," Travis said. "I won't let him.”

“Do you trust me, Pidge?”“Yeah, why?”“C’mere,” he said, pulling me against him. I stiffened for a second or two before resting my head on his chest. Whatever was going on with him, he needed me near him, and I couldn’t have objected even if I’d wanted to. It felt right lying next to him.”

“So you’re the Pigeon, huh?”“No,” I snapped. “I have a name.”He seemed amused at the way I regarded him, which only served to make me angrier.“Well? What is it?” he asked.I took a bite of the last apple spear on my plate, ignoring him.“Pigeon it is, then,” he shrugged.”

“A familiar pair of strong, protective hands rested on my shoulders. “He won’t hurt you, Pigeon,” Travis said. “I won’t let him.”