Chapter 12

For a brief moment, he could have been anybody.

* * * *

Being little had advantages. Like being able to slip through doors just as they were closing. Like getting lost in a sea of people because everybody was looking over your head instead of down. Like not getting noticed by your best friend when you’re following his skinny white ass through London because he can’t keep it safe behind walls.

Not that Dominique blamed Jesse. The Madding house was the nicest she’d ever lived in, but its atmosphere was for shit.

He never looked behind him. She knew she was good at trailing him, better than the last time he’d caught her, but Jesse was in his own little world as he moved from sidewalk to bus to the busy streets of Soho. There he came to life, his gaze jumping around as if he was in search of something. Or someone.