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 Because he s a dumb bastard. His hands were petting up and down her back. It would appear a
caress, when it was actually a soothing gesture to ease the pain inside her.
Jazz, like Zack, was one of the good guys. Hard-working, without the dark, rough edges Slade
possessed.
 We re almost done, he breathed against her ear.  One more little song and we can stumble to the RV
and pretend to expend our passion. Damn, you know, if I hadn t seen you in diapers way back when, I
might have been able to take advantage of it.
She laughed. Yes, he had seen her in diapers. Once. The fool.
 You re crazy, Jazz. She settled against his chest. It wasn t Slade, but Jazz only wanted a dance, not
her soul.
 Yeah, I m just a grinnin fool, he assured her as the song ended.  Here we go now.
He pulled back from her, his arm looping over her shoulder as he led her to his RV. If she didn t know
him better, she would have never stepped foot on the pervert wagon, as it had been nicknamed.
She kept her head down, grateful for the escape as they entered the darkened interior.
 Go on back, I ll sit right here and watch the damned fools out there. Someone is going to catch the hills
on fire before it s over with. He pointed to the back of the RV and the bed there.  You go sleep, sweet
pea. I ll stand guard.
She was too tired, too drunk and too confused to argue. She moved through the camper, entered the
narrow door and crawled into the large bed there. The night was hot, but she pulled the light quilt over
her, her body chilled as she fought the shudders racing through her.
 I love you, Slade, she whispered, as she had every night for the past three weeks.  Goodnight. He
wasn t with her, but the words allowed her to close her eyes and let the alcohol take over as she drifted
into sleep.
Chapter Eight
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Jazz sat on the couch several hours later, the television turned down low as he watched some
action/adventure flick he couldn t even name. His mind wasn t on the television though, it was on the
woman sleeping restlessly in his bed and the man moving closer to the door of the RV.
There was no mistaking the broad form as he paused at the door, then opened it soundlessly.
 She s asleep. Leave her the hell alone.
Jazz, more than anyone, was well aware of what was going on and why Slade had walked away from
the sweetest little girl Jazz had ever known. Slade could hide the truth from most people, but as a
business partner, as a friend, as foster brother, he had told Jazz the truth. And it sucked, it really did.
Sometimes life just kicked your ass to hell and back and didn t even give a man a break.
 I hoped she was. Slade breathed out roughly.  I need to see her, Jazz. Just for a minute. I won t wake
her.
That boy needed more than just to see Jessie and Jazz knew it. His voice echoed with lonely rage, with a
hunger that wasn t about to let go of his guts. Jazz breathed in deeply. He had known it was coming, this
was why had brought Jessie to his rig rather than letting Zack take over. He was the only one who knew
the truth, the only one who would allow Slade within speaking distance of her. Not that he had tried.
Slade had been real careful to stay close to his own RV, drink his own beer, and just watch. Until now.
 This ain t gonna help you, Slade, he sighed, feeling the man s pain. Hell, they had all lost enough in
their lives that their adult years should have flowed like candy rather stinking like shit.  It will only make it
worse.
 I m leaving in a week. Slade kept his voice low.  I can t leave without seeing her, and this is the
kindest way to do it.
Jazz glanced toward the back of the RV. It would take more than hungry eyes to awaken the exhausted
girl, she would never know Slade had been there. But Jazz knew his friend was only torturing himself
worse.
 Don t make me beg, Jazz, Slade said then, his head raised proudly, his shoulders straight, tense.  You
know the truth, just give me this and I ll never bother her again.
Jazz snorted at the statement. Some people just confounded him, as though they hadn t learned the
circles of life. What he saw between these two would never just go away. And fate had a way of making
folks face even their worse pains, their greatest mistakes.
 Hurry the hell up. He rose from his seat.  And I m going with you. You touch her wrong and I ll break
your arms.
Slade didn t argue. He followed Jazz, entering the small room as the other man wedged himself into a
corner, crossed his arms over his chest and watched Slade s strength crumble.
It was humbling, seeing a man as strong as he knew Slade was, falter in the face of something as weak
and helpless as one little girl.
Jessie had rolled to her back, the quilt still clutched in her hands, but her stomach and hips uncovered.
Slade knelt beside the low bed, his fingers trembling as he touched the small dragon tattoo revealed by
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the dip of her bikini bottom. Just like Jessie. A fantasy, a fiery vision that could never truly be his.
He leaned forward then placed a reverent kiss on the small mark before rising and staring into her face.
His fingers brushed back her hair, shook as they smoothed over her lips. He touched her like a man
touches life one terrified, light as air, brush at a time.
He should have looked away. Jazz knew the kindest thing he could do for both of them was to give
Slade a few private moments. There were some things a man just couldn t say when others were near,
and Slade looked like a man who needed to clear his soul real bad. But Jazz also knew his friend s
self-control wasn t at its peak. He wasn t going to let him hurt Jessie anymore than he already had, even
for friendship. Sometimes, a man just had to set friendship aside, and for Jazz, this was one of those
times.
 Isn t she beautiful, Jazz? Slade whispered, his voice almost too quiet to hear as he asked the question.
 The prettiest thing in the world I think.
Yeah, she was. But Slade didn t need that answer.
 She s like a fire in the winter. She warms you even when you don t know you re cold. Slade s voice
was rough.  Take care of her for me, will you, Jazz? Don t let those bastards out there touch her. They
touch her and I ll have to kill them. I won t be able to help it.
His voice was ragged, bringing a prickle of warmth to Jazz s eyes. Damn, that boy was killing himself.
Jazz felt his heart clench at the emotion that filled Slade s voice, that radiated from him as he bent to the
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