Chapter 4 The Present #2
I’m about to protest when the man gestures toward the half-built building behind him, clearly having heard the question and Nathaniel’s answer.
“There’s an old truck out back. Keys are in the ignition,” he says flatly. “Take it. I’ll handle the cleanup.”
Nathaniel nods, completely unfazed, and pushes my wheelchair forward. Talon gives the Candy Maker’s corpse a mock salute and follows. Cassian lingers for a beat, sizing the man up before turning on his heel and stalking after us.
I grip the armrests weakly, trying to silence the screaming thoughts in my head.
Push me faster. Walk quicker. Get the hell out. Move before we get killed.
Nathaniel must sense it, because he leans in just enough for only me to hear. “Relax, Little Grim. No one’s selling your kidneys tonight.”
“Tonight?” I hiss. “What about tomorrow?”
Talon barks a laugh. “Don’t tempt us. You do look pretty fresh.”
I hate these guys. I really do.
But what I hate even more is not knowing if they’re actually joking.
Like I said before, I have no idea where we stand anymore, and I’m not about to unpack that in the middle of a sketchy organ-trafficking drop site.
Nathaniel guides me through the wreckage of an old construction site, past rusted rebar and half-poured slabs of concrete. As we round a corner, I spot the truck—beat-up but exactly where the sunglass-wearing slab of muscle said it would be.
It’s rusted in spots, paint peeling off in streaks like it’s survived too many bad days. But sure enough, the keys hang from the ignition, practically begging someone to drive it straight to the junkyard.
Nathaniel pushes me up to the passenger side and yanks the door open.
“Talon, help her in.”
Talon lifts me out of the chair and dumps me into the seat like I’m a sack of potatoes.
I wheeze. “I hope your next meal gives you food poisoning.”
Talon grins. “So eager to play nurse?”
Fuck.
“Do I look like I’m even capable?” I snap.
“Give it time, baby,” is all he says.
Cassian slides into the driver’s seat, jamming the key into the ignition with a sharp twist. The engine coughs to life like it’s dying a dramatic death, rattling so loud I wince.
Nathaniel pulls himself into the back seat, and Talon climbs in after him.
“I can’t believe you guys actually did that,” I mutter as Cassian slams the truck into gear and rolls us out of the construction site. “Like. You just delivered the Candy Maker’s body to a literal crime syndicate.”
“You were there too,” Cassian says flatly. “Could argue you were part of it.”
I glare at him.
“I was not,” I snap.
“You didn’t object,” he says, maddeningly calm.
“Uh, yeah?” My eyebrows knit together. “Because I didn’t realize what was happening until it was happening.
One second I’m getting wheeled into a construction site, the next I’m face-to-face with some sunglasses-wearing organ lord, trying not to hyperventilate while Talon shows him a corpse in a wheelbarrow. ”
“You still didn’t object.”
“Oh my God.” I widen my eyes so hard it physically hurts. “What exactly was I supposed to do? Leap out of the chair and yell, ‘Hey, maybe don’t sell that corpse to your crime buddies’? I could barely sit upright. Still can’t.”
Talon laughs in the back. “Well, she did glare.”
“Yeah,” I say, pointing a finger. “Exactly. I glared. I was clearly not on board.”
Nathaniel shifts in the front, voice mild. “Intent or not, you were still there. No one’s blaming you. Just… noting the involvement.”
“Unwillingly,” I growl. “Like a hostage.”
Cassian lifts an eyebrow in the rearview mirror. “A witness wouldn’t make the distinction.”
“I am not okay with this logic!” I throw my hands up, then instantly regret it as nausea rolls through me. “So because I got dragged into your sketchy little corpse exchange and didn’t bite the buyer’s hand off, I’m an accomplice now?”
“You made eye contact,” Talon says under his breath. “That’s basically a verbal contract.”
I nearly combust. “That is not—! You are—!”
It takes a beat of silence for me to realize... they’re joking. Talon snickers and leans back in his seat. Nathaniel hides a smile, turning to the window. And Cassian, God help me, I swear I catch the corner of his mouth twitch in the mirror.
“You know, I saved your lives,” I say eventually. “Twice, in Cassian’s case. You should be worshipping the ground I walk on.”
“And you got a second chance at life,” Cassian replies. “Because of us.”
“It’s not a second chance,” I mutter. “It’s a mission. With strings. And consequences. I either destroy the wraith, get killed by her, or get disintegrated by Death. Again, your fault.”
He doesn’t respond. Just shifts gears a little too hard, and the truck jolts like it’s protesting. If I had an ounce more balance, I probably would’ve face-planted into the dash. Instead, I just groan and flop my head back against the seat.
A stretch of silence follows. Then, unexpectedly, it’s Cassian who breaks it. His hands tighten on the wheel.
He’s unusually talkative right now.
“For the record,” he says, “you were only supposed to be our radar. We didn’t mean for the rest to happen.”
His eyes flick to mine in the rearview mirror, and this time, there’s no arrogance, no infuriating self-centeredness. He actually sounds sincere.
“Which part are we talking about exactly?” I ask, because there’s no way I’m letting this moment slip by. I’m going to squeeze every drop of honesty out of him.
“All of it.”
I glance at the other two. Nathaniel gives a small nod, like he agrees but doesn’t want to get involved. Talon just sits there with his eyes closed.
“Wow,” I mutter. “That almost sounded like an admission of guilt.”
Cassian doesn’t dignify that with a response. His grip on the wheel tightens, knuckles whitening, and just like that, whatever softness he was trying to show me vanishes.
And weirdly, it’s almost comforting at this point. If there’s one thing you can count on Cassian to do in any situation, it’s grit his teeth, flex his muscles, and stew in silence.
But I will get an apology out of him someday. Mark my freaking words.
I lean my head against the seat, still too weak to do much else, and stare through the truck’s cracked windshield. The road ahead is empty. A long stretch of abandoned industrial wasteland, but city lights flicker in the distance, promising that civilization isn’t too far away.
“I hope no one saw my face,” I say after a while. “Wouldn’t want to give someone a heart attack, seeing me back from the dead.”
“Like who?” Talon asks, his eyes still closed.
“All my Gran’s neighbors. Little old ladies, all of them. One glimpse of me on the street and boom—heart attacks all around. And honestly? Fair enough.”
The thought simmers for a moment before another, better one hits me.
The best one.
“Oh my god,” I exclaim, the brilliance of it giving me just enough energy to sit up briefly. I collapse back down a second later, but with flair. I flop with a theatrical sigh, my head lolling to the side as I whisper, “I should haunt my ex-husband.”
The truck goes dead silent.
Nathaniel lifts a brow. Talon lets out a choked laugh. Cassian, in the driver’s seat, doesn’t react at all, which is exactly how I know he absolutely has an opinion and is choosing not to share it.
I take their silence as encouragement.
“Think about it,” I say, gaining momentum from my own genius. “I could show up at night. Move things. Whisper his name in the dark. Maybe even—oh, oh—leave messages on the mirror when it fogs up from the shower.” I grin, practically feral now. “He killed me. I owe him some psychological warfare.”
“That so?” Talon drawls.
"Of course!" I slap my knee weakly for emphasis. "I’ve been waiting this whole time to torment him in the afterlife. Might as well get a head start. Who knows if I’ll even survive the wraith mission? At least this way, I get some punishment in early. Tell me he doesn’t deserve it."
Nathaniel smirks. "He does."
Cassian sighs, long and pained, like he’s hanging onto the last thread of his patience. "Skye."
"Cassian."
"If you hadn’t been given this body, it wouldn’t be possible."
"Uh, duh. That’s the whole point."
"You got it for a reason," he grits out. "From Death, like you said. I doubt he’d approve."
"Death only cares about destroying the wraith," I argue.
"And that’s what you should focus on." He glances sideways at me. "Especially now, when we have no idea when she’ll show up again. We need to gear up, take control, and end it. Then… maybe."
I narrow my eyes.
“Why?” I ask. “What do you care when I get my revenge in?”
Talon opens one eye from the back seat. Nathaniel turns from the window. I keep my gaze fixed on Cassian. He exhales through his nose.
“Because you won’t stop there,” he says eventually.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you think a little haunting will be enough. But it won’t. You’ll want more. Closure. Justice. Blood. Am I wrong?”
I blink. For a moment, I don’t have a comeback, mostly because… he’s right. The thought of my ex-husband walking free, living a normal life after what he did—it’s poison in my blood. And yeah, I do want more than haunting. I want to see fear in his eyes. Regret. I want the truth. I want—
“Let her want it,” Nathaniel says quietly.
Cassian’s gaze snaps to him.
“If revenge is what keeps her going,” Nathaniel adds, “then let it. We aren’t any better.”
Another stretch of silence.
“All I’m saying is,” he says finally. “That if Skye wants revenge, she should conduct it fully from start to finish, not while fighting some monster on the side. And as I said before… I could kill that bastard for her.”
Um… what? I’m stunned.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to do that anymore,” I say. “Changed your mind?”
“That was before you turned half-human. And before you saved my life.”
Oh… fuck.
I open my mouth, then close it again. My throat’s too tight for anything clever.