The lines of his face become stark and he crouches next to my chair. "I'm sorry." I just shake my head. "Okay, why do you think your father won't believe you?"

I drop my hands. "I don't know. He agrees with my stepmother that the depression over my-my mother's death is making me crazy, making me make up things." He raises an eyebrow. I let out a sad laugh. "I know. The explanation is beyond lame."

Jai lifts his hand to my neck to where Smith injected me. His touch, though gentle, sends a spark through my tired body and I flinch. With a frown, Jai pulls his fingers away. He leans back and sets his elbows on his knees. "Maybe if you showed him your collection of bruises and talked to him without your stepmother around he'll be more likely to listen."

I shrug. Sadly, I really don't know my father very well. Not well enough to make that kind of judgment, which really sucks.

"What if I went with you and backed up your story?"

I sit up straighter. The thought of him by my side boosts my confidence. Where can I meet my father alone without Mali around? I suppose at his work, but there are so many hoops to get to his office on the top floor from security guards to secretaries, I just don't like the idea of going there. Suddenly, an idea comes to me. "Today's Wednesday, right?" In all the craziness of the day, I've lost track of time.

Jai nods.

"My father always goes to his private club for lunch on Thursday's at two o'clock by himself." Except when I used to visit during the summer, my father would always take me to the old-fashioned private townhouse for lunch. Private and upscale is a quite a different experience. I look down at my dirty skirt and laced up boots. "We need certain clothes."

"I can get us clothes." He grins. "I do live near a Laundromat." His grin has me smiling. I'm feeling better, not so lost. More in control.

He rises and opens the large metal trunk at the end of the mattress. "You should get some sleep after the day you've had." He pulls out a t-shirt and jogging pants. "These will probably be too big-"

"They'll be fine." I stand and take them from him. I clutch the clothes to my chest and face him. "I want to thank you for coming to get me, for saving me from those guys, and especially for offering to go with me tomorrow."

The flush of embarrassment on his face is more than endearing. "You're welcome," he says quietly before stepping past me. He pauses at the door. "And don't worry. Everything will turn out alright. By tomorrow you'll be home."

I nod. I'm so hoping he's right because if my father won't believe me, I not sure how long I can stay in this basement with all the animosity and longing surrounding me.

Chapter 18*Snow.

Sleeping late-like past noon-I wake to an empty apartment and a note from Jai that essentially says; he had errands to run, but will be back in time with the clothes, and also to help myself to anything in the fridge. After a long shower, I spend most of the afternoon eating two bowls of Lucky Charms out of a paper bowl while thinking about what I should say to my father. With the way he's acting, I need to be prepared to talk with him. Once I have a general idea, I let it go. If I sit around and think about it all day, I will make myself crazy.

Done eating and definitely done thinking about my father, I wander into Jai's room. The books stuffed into the small space are astounding. There are textbooks, poem anthologies, novels, and even graphic novels, some I own, but the largest part of his collection deals with architecture. Beginning architecture, Asian architecture, classic architecture, modern architecture, commercial architecture, and on and on, practically anything you'd want to know about architecture is in this basement. It's pretty obvious where Jai's dreams and aspirations lie.

I'm skimming through The Shape of European Cities and trying to read Jai's extensive notes written in a long loopy scrawl when I hear the front door-if it can be called a front door-opening. I quickly reshelf the book and then pause, hoping it is Jai or one of the boys or even Song. Just not someone after me. Footsteps sound on the cement. I scan the room and look for somewhere to hide.

When Jai steps in the doorway, I'm able to breathe again. "Here," he says, holding up a paper and string wrapped bundle. "It took longer than I thought to find this stuff, so we have to hurry if we want to make it across town in time."

"I'll hurry." I snag the package from him and head into the tiny bathroom. Inside the wrapping, I find dress pants, a blouse, a blazer, slip on shoes, and dark glasses. An outfit for someone close to fifty. Quite lame. At this point, I'm not about to complain. The pants are a bit too big at the waist. The shirtsleeves don't reach my wrists. And it takes me three times to tie the scarf at my neck that's part of the shirt. Luckily, the blazer fits and covers up all the awkward parts. And a pair of sunglasses cover up the bruise left by Mao's elbow. Once I turn my ponytail into a bun, I'm ready to go.

Jai's waiting in the main room. He's wearing dress pants and a sweater. The front of his hair is gelled into a spiky swoop and his collar under the sweater is up. College preppy turned hottie. I've never been attracted to the type. Now I have to force myself not to stare.

He hands me his gray canvas coat, tugs on a beat up leather one, and we exit the cabinet. I follow him through the basement. Instead of going into the Laundromat, he leads me to the alley where his bike waits. Once I'm wrapped around him again-I'm beginning to really like this mode of transportation-we're soon cruising through the city. Twenty minutes later, he parks a block away from the townhouse-showing up on his motorcycle might not get us in the door-we leave our beat up coats on the seat, and walk down the cold townhouse-lined street.

On the porch with his hand about to push the bell, he turns to me. "You okay? You ready for this?" I nod and smile weakly. Having him here, having some support keeps my nerves in check. "Okay," he tugs his collar back up, "I'm going to let you take the lead just ask me and I'll confirm everything you say." He pushes the ornate doorbell and a soft dinging melody sounds.

A middle-aged man dressed like a butler from carriage and horse times answers the door. He looks down his nose at us. "Yes?"

I raise my chin. "I've come to lunch with my father, Drew Nash."

At my father's name, he snaps to attention, steps back, and motions with a wide arm arc. "Please come in." He leads us past a formal lounge and into a room of square tables, white linens, and fresh flowers. I spot my father in the far corner of the room. Scrolling through his Blackberry and surrounded by papers spread out before him, he doesn't notice us until the antique butler pulls out a chair.

"Nivea," he says and practically drops his phone to float with the olives in his martini.

"Hello, father," I say as if this is just a normal luncheon meeting. My father glances at Jai. I smile lightly, keeping all the anxiety coiled inside of me down. "This is Jai, a friend who's been helping me."

Jai says hello while my father's lips stay in a tight line. Once the antique butler leaves, he hisses, "What is going on, and where have you been?"

I reach for the yellow, fan folded napkin in front of me. "Well, since you wouldn't believe me over the phone, I decided to explain things to you in person." I spread the linen across my lap as if I belong in this upscale private club.

The waiter comes. My father glares at me while I order a Coke and Jai orders an ice tea.

Once the waiter leaves my father again demands, "Where have you been?" Instead of answering, I take off the glasses. He lets out a gasp and rears back. "What happened to your eye?"

I fold the glasses and set them on the table. Jai just watches us, which is fine. His presence keeps me composed, keeps me in line. The calmer I appear the more likely my father will believe me. Very aware of this I'm trying to take time with all of my responses, make sure they're clear and articulate. "Two men cornered me last night. At first, I thought they were muggers, but they knew my name and tried to kidnap me. One of them elbowed me," I wave my hand in front of my face like I'm a display model and I'm selling my bruise, "when I tried to escape."

As the waiter sets down our drinks, my father motions me to put the glasses back on. I concede with a sigh. After he tells him we still need to look at the menu, he asks, "So how did you escape?"

I take a sip of my Coke with its floating lemon. "Jai saved me," I simply say not wanting to share that violent encounter with my father. The less he knows about Jai the better. I don't want him coming to any wrong conclusions, like thug conclusions. Because right now Jai looks rich, looks like someone my father would approve of.

He glances at Jai, who nods. After taking a long drink of his martini, he asks, "So I'm guessing you think Smith has something to do with this?"

Okay, here's where I have to be super calm. I remove the glasses again and slowly tug the bow at my neck free. Then craning my neck, I place my fingers at the punctured bruise. "When someone tries to drug me in the morning then two guys attack me later, I can't help thinking they're related."

My father cringes at the injury before rubbing a temple. "I'm not sure what to think."

Jai leans forward. "Sir, your daughter's in some kind of trouble. You can't deny that."

Frowning at him, my father drops his hand. "No, I suppose I can't."

I'm holding in a smile at how smooth everything is going when the one empty chair at the table is suddenly pulled out. I look up to see the antique butler and Mali. "Good afternoon," she says with a syrupy smile.

Shit. Minus Smith, Kevin, and Mao, she's the last person I want to see. She's going to ruin everything.

My father rises and helps her tug off her long white leather coat. "I thought you couldn't come?" He hands the dead animal to the antique butler.

Her smile somehow becomes more syrupy. Her red lips an off center bow. "I had a client cancel an appointment." She glances at Jai. "Who's your friend, Nivea?" Before I can introduce them, she notices my eye and her face twists with fury. "What happened?"

My father pushes in her chair. "Nivi is still not only claiming that Smith attacked her, but that some street men tried to take her and roughed her up."

Mali's hand covers the jumble of silver hanging from her throat. "That's awful! Just awful. Yet," she shakes her head, "I did check into your claims about Smith." She places a palm on my father's shoulder. "A teacher at your school witnessed Smith trying to drop you off, before you ran away. I know you don't like him, but..."

I jerk back from shock. What teacher would lie like that? Did Smith pay them off?

My father's eyes look strangely blank before he pins me with an angry look. "Making allegations against people isn't a joke or a way to get what you want. Such behavior is irrepressible, which makes me wonder if the story about your eye is also fictitious."

My mouth falls open. The clink of dishes sounds from the kitchen. A door upstairs shuts somewhere. The large grandfather clock on the far wall ticks. Inside the overwhelming silence, I can't even speak. For him to come to such a conclusion...it's like he slapped me. Anger, disappointment, and hurt spiral in my chest, want to explode out of my mouth, but in shock, I'm mute.

Jai sits forward. "Sir, I picked up Nivi yesterday from the warehouse area in Sunset Park. She did look and act..." it's evident he's trying not to use the word but finally says, "drugged. And I saw the man elbow her in the eye last night."

Mali squeezes my father's shoulder and shakes her head sadly while he studies Jai. My father slowly clears his throat. "It's possible you are trying to help my daughter. That doesn't mean she's telling the truth."

I'm about to fall out of my chair. My father's the one who has totally lost it.

Jai shakes his head. "No disrespect sir, but getting people to attack her?"

"Perhaps she'd go to such lengths to get her way," my father snaps. "Especially if she has a drug problem."

Jai's only response is the hardening of both his jaw and eyes. While I, trying not to go off on my parent, grip the seat of my chair until my fingers have to be blue. We may not be close, but for him to think I'm on drugs and a devious liar makes me realize he doesn't know me at all.

"Now Drew," Mali rubs his upper arm, "let's look at this from a different angle. Nivea needs our help. It's not so much what she's done but why." She gives him an imploring look. "You need to be patient and understanding with her."

The shit is getting so deep in here it's amazing I can see past it. I really wanted to get along with Mali for my father's sake. Right now, my dislike has my teeth grinding.

My father pats her hand before his eyes flash to me. "I'm going to try and listen to your mother, but you're going back to your therapist, today. And you're taking a drug test. If it's positive, you'll be going to rehab immediately."

This is freakin' unbelievable. His attitude has my blood boiling. The fact that I'm in serious danger and he's just blowing it off is nearing the point of ridiculousness. And the mother comment so doesn't help. I stare at him while anger and hurt bubble until they erupt. I jump up and my chair falls over with a thump on the plush carpet. "She's not my mother! I'm not! I won't!"

"Sit back down," my father says from behind clenched teeth as he grips the edge of the table.

I take steps back until my thigh smacks into another table. I'm completely floored by his reaction along with completely furious. Unable to talk, not sure what to do, and not trusting myself to speak, I just keep frantically shaking my head.

Suddenly Jai's pulling me out of the dining room. "You can't stay here, your father's an idiot," he says under his breath. While he pulls me into the hall I realize, he's right. I'm not going to get any help from my father and we need to leave. Now. If I stay, my father's going to send me to rehab-there has to be drugs in my system-and eventually the loony bin.

"Drew! Don't let her leave! Go get her!" Mali yells behind us.

Jai's fast walk turns into a jog as loud footsteps sound behind us. He practically shoves me out the door. Together, we race down the steps and then down the block toward his motorcycle. We jump on the bike on top of the waiting coats. I slam the helmet on and paste myself to Jai as he revs up the engine.

The motorcycle lurches onto the street behind a slow taxi and I look back. In front of the townhouse, my father is bent over yelling into the passenger window of his Rolls Royce. The tinted windows make it hard to see inside, but I'm quite sure who is behind the wheel. My father stands and the Rolls flies into the street. This is so not good.

"He's behind us!" I yell into Jai's ear.

"Who?" he shouts back over his shoulder.

"The guy who drugged me! Her chauffeur!"

Jai glances behind us, just as the Rolls' bumper is about to nudge his back wheel. He hits the throttle and we speed between the car in front of us and a parked car. I suck in my stomach as if that will help the tight squeeze. The bike's handlebar knocks the parked car's mirror off, but somehow we make it through.

My relief is short lived when Smith changes lanes, speeds up, and almost pulls next to us. We change lanes again. He changes lanes. The light ahead turns red. Crap, crap, and crap.

I'm thinking of jumping off the bike and making a run for it, when Jai squeezes between two moving cars. Horns blare around us and drown out the sound of my beating heart. When we make it through, our eyes meet in the bike's side mirror before Jai's narrow on the Rolls. He puts his feet down while we wait for the light to change. Now two cars and one lane separate us from Smith, and we've stopped.

The Rolls nudges closer.

My fingers dig into Jai's ribs.

The Rolls door opens.

Cars honk.

Smith steps out.

Just seeing him turns my palms sweaty, accelerates my heartbeat.

As Smith comes at us, Jai hits the throttle and I clamp onto him or I'd fall off. He cuts off the car next to us and makes a hard right turn. I'm swallowing fear down my dry throat when he nearly sideswipes the throng of people waiting at the corner.

Behind us, Smith jumps in the car. He's stuck in the other lane.

Happy, happy, joy, joy.

Jai keeps moving, changing lanes, and getting farther away. Though the car is built for luxury not speed, I keep checking over my shoulder, but the Rolls is nowhere in sight. After about the fifth check, I bury my face into Jai's back in relief.

Once we're in Chinatown, he parks on a side street. "We can get to my apartment through there." He points at a restaurant across the street and steps onto the road. "Now that they know my bike, I don't want to park near the apartment."

As we cross the street, I realize he's a pro at this kind of thing. And I'm not sure it that's good or bad at this point.

Jai pauses at the door and says, "Act natural."

I put all my concentration into smoothing the tension from my face and step inside. The lobby is jammed with waiting people. Laughter and conversation erupt around us. Words blare and blend with bright red walls and golden color lights. After our harrowing ride, the energy of the room suffocates me.

Seeing my disorientation, Jai wraps an arm around my waist and steers me past the host stand into a long corridor. We pass restrooms and an alcove with pay phones. A door swings open at the end of the hall and a waiter appears with a large tray on his shoulder.

"Damn," Jai mumbles under his breath. He pushes me against the red wallpaper, brings his hands to my jaw, and nearly presses his lips against mine. "I know him. Wrap your arms around me," he whispers against my mouth.

From far away, I hear the door swing shut as I stare into the ebony eyes mere centimeters from mine. When he talks, his lips touch mine. Sparks fly. A shocking yearning bubbles up. Past distortion, my world is raw feeling. His hands cupping my face. His lips brushing mine. His body pressed against mine. His scent surrounding me is agony and elation at once.

"Now," he hisses. I taste his breath and somehow force my body to follow his directions. "Wait until he passes."

I feel the words more than hearing them. More sparks. More yearning. Back muscles under my palms. I want him to kiss me for real. The thought lodges in my throat, making breathing difficult. I stare into his black velvet eyes and try to concentrate on the passing footsteps.

Too soon, Jai jumps away from me. "You okay?" The words are low and breathless. I can only nod. "Come on." He opens a door with the words *employees only' on it across from us.

Still in a cloud of longing, I almost trip across the threshold. Down a flight of stairs and we're in the basement maze again. In the darkness, the sound of voices comes at us.

Chapter 19*Snow.

Jai slaps his hand over my mouth and pushes me under the stairs. Ugh. Dust and cobwebs brush my skin and cover my hair as he pulls me as far back as we can possibly go. I push at his hand. He won't budge. Does he think I'm a total idiot? I know we need to hide. The voices get closer and Jai's hand tightens over my mouth.

"Half a million?" a raspy, ancient male voice asks.