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girl is my cousin, you stupid fuck.”
    The asshole manages to spit blood and teeth at Caleb’s feet. “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” he demands, hoarsely.
    Caleb grins, a smiling face on gossip papers and police reports.
    The guy pales, and Caleb laughs, a devil laugh, as the fucker’s eyes dart frantically between them. It’s far too late for that. He wonders if the idiot realizes it.
    “I didn’t know—she. I didn’t know!”
    Caleb shrugs. Stands. The asshole starts to scramble away as Caleb searches for something, and Rico makes an aggravated noise, stepping over to block his slow escape. 
    “Problem, Rico?” Caleb asks. Rico shrugs, and gives him a small grin. Caleb grabs a rock off the ground and glances again at his cousin. “This will be messy, baby.”
    She swallows hard, and Caleb nods at Rico. “Do it.”
    Rico is crouched down, stretching the man’s arm out, and he’s twisting, fighting to get free. Caleb kicks him idly and drops down. He hefts the stone in one hand—it’s a broken piece of brick. Sharp and heavy and jagged.  Stealing himself, Caleb brings it down, viciously, on the man’s outstretched hand. The bastard screams, like a little bitch, but Caleb ignores him. Once. Twice. Three times. Each time, he can hear the sickening crunch of bone and cartilage, the wails of pain and vomiting. He doesn’t hear Emma, so quiet he thinks she’s fainted.
    He keeps beating down until the hand is shattered so thoroughly it resembles hamburger, long after the guy goes limp and quiet. Then he let’s the rock tumble free, and stands. Rico is staring at him, his eyes dark. Emma stands a little bit away, shaking. She’s very pale, and looks like she’s going to throw up.
    Caleb stands still, watching her, waiting for the disgust, for her to turn away from him. Finally she blinks, and a tiny frown turns her lips. She nods at his hand. “You need to clean up.”
    The relief he feels shouldn’t make him so lightheaded. And as filthy as he is, he shouldn’t touch her. But he does. He pulls her into his arms, and she melts against him, shuddering. Over her red gold curls, he catches Rico’s eyes. “Get a crew down here to clean this up.”
    Then he steers his cousin down the alley, away from the worst side of their world.
     

 
    .
     
    Bamboo. New York City. October 8, 2012
     
    He keeps watching her, waiting for her to fall apart. She hasn’t. She turned the lights low enough that the girls don’t notice the wet stains on his knees. Her hands tremble a little—at her side, he notices what everyone else can miss—but she’s smiling and laughing.
    Alyssa, drunk off her ass, pouts. “It’s too early to go home.”
    Emma slides a look at him, and he sighs. “Bamboo, Brice.”
    Rico shoots him a glarehe doesn’t want to decipher, so he ignores it.
    This, he thinks, leaning his head back and letting Emma fuss over his swollen knuckles, is a bad fucking idea.
    But it’s already done, and she doesn’t look like she cares. Well, of course she doesn’t. She has no reason to think she should.
    He drags out his phone and taps a quick text out before pocketing it. Rico is watching him, and he leans down as Caleb shuffles in the mini bar.
    “Boss, this is a bad idea. Bamboo is dangerous for her.”
    “Remember whose cousin she is, Rico,” Caleb says softly.
    “She’s in shock. That display was—” he hisses.
    “Needed. She’s seventeen and part of the syndicate. We can’t protect her from it forever,” Caleb says, ruthlessly. Rico looks mutinous, but Caleb ignores him and leans back in his seat. Emma curls against him, and he glances down at her. Her breathing is shallow and her eyes are glassy and too bright.
    “You okay, princess?” She nods, too quickly and he softens his voice. “We don’t have to stay. We can go home.”
    “No, Caleb. I’m fine. I promise.” She gives him a false, bright smile, and he eyes her doubtfully.
    But the car is slowing—Bamboo isn’t