Chapter 2
Chapter Two
AVA
My footsteps echo on the concrete sidewalk. I glance behind us. The days are getting longer and I can’t help but study the shadows. Whoever left me the typewritten threat knew where I lived, so they either followed me home or broke into the newspaper’s files.
The first hypothesis is more likely to me and the one I fear the most.
I glance up at Steve, hooking an arm through his. “Thanks for picking me up at the station,” I tell him.
He hums, his eyes on his phone. “Yeah, about that…” He glances at me with an arched brow. “You should figure that out. It’s been two weeks already.”
“And two weeks is guaranteed that they’ve given up?”
His eyes are full of disbelief. “Have you stopped snooping?” I open my mouth to complain, but he cuts me in. “And you know that wasn’t serious. I doubt anyone would waste their time doing anything. It’s just a troll.”
I squeeze his arm. “What if it’s not?”
Steve doesn’t respond. I let go of his arm. We move side by side, but a chasm yawns between us. The glow of his phone screen illuminates his impassive face as he scrolls, oblivious to my worry.
I clear my throat, searching for a subject. “Anything new today?”
Steve hums in thought as we turn on our street. “Did you see that new anti-shifter law passed?”
“Yes—” I start, ten different curses on the tip of my tongue, but he goes on.
“About damn time.”
My grip tightens on my phone. Congressman Thorne proposed the law. The man who’s very probably threatening me. Anger simmers in my gut. “Seriously? You support that bullshit?”
He scoffs. “Come on, Ava. Thorne is not threatening you, and this law is important. You know shifters are dangerous. They need to be controlled.”
I whirl to face him, my jaw clenched. “Controlled? They’re people, Steve! With rights. This law strips those away.”
“Oh, please, spare me the bleeding heart routine.” He rolls his eyes. “You’ve been brainwashed by all that pro-shifter propaganda. Every day there’s a different story about violent shifters and yet, you miss those.”
“It’s called compassion, Steve. Something you clearly lack.” Has he been this awful this whole time? How did I miss this?
“Ava,” he says, his voice bored. “Do you even know any shifters? You defend them as if you knew them, which you don’t.”
“I don’t need to know any shifters to want to defend their equal rights.”
“But we’re not equals,” he insists. “If you argue with one of them in the traffic, they can change into a freaking bear and bite your head out. Animals , Ava. Not people.”
I open my mouth to retort, but my phone vibrates with a message.
Archer.
Warmth spreads through me. A smile tugs at my lips as I open the message. Steve goes on walking ahead of me.
Archer: i have wise words to bestow upon thee
My brother’s goofy humor instantly soothes my frayed nerves.
Ava: then please do
Archer: one, have you kicked steve to the curb yet? ive met him once and it was already too much
Ava: number two?
Archer: two, you should tell your boss the threat is stressing you out and come spend a couple of weeks up here with me.
Ava: not a bad idea. but they could still get to steve. ill talk to him about it.
Archer: I’ll probably regret this later, but for your sake, ill deal with him. bring him over if it makes you feel better.
Archer: you guys take my bed, ill take the couch
Archer: just please dont fuck on my bed. ew.
I laugh at the phone, my heart warming. Archer is a few years older than me, but he’s always been the best brother I could ever hope for. We’ve lived most of our lives apart—children of divorce—but no one brings a smile to my face as consistently as he does.
Lost in his messages, I climb the stairs to our apartment behind Steve, not paying attention. I almost bump into him when he stops in the middle of the hallway. I look up.
The front door to our apartment hangs ajar, wood splinters littering the welcome mat. My heart drops. Time slows down.
“What the hell?” Steve storms inside. I want to call out, to stop him, but my voices doesn’t work. What if the person who broke in is still inside? What if?—
Steve enters the apartment. His footfalls crunch broken glass and wood. Unease prickles my skin as I follow him in.
The living room is in shambles: the couch is gutted, my books are strewn everywhere, and the picture frames are shattered. Even the window was broken, the evening breeze blowing inside. Steve kicks at a destroyed pillow, the stuffing covering the carpet.
“Fuck, we’ve been robbed! My stuff, it’s ruined!” he screams, face mottled red. He stomps around, blindly checking pieces of broken furniture and shattered decorations.
I survey the destruction. The TV is broken. Steve’s gaming console, trashed. “Wait. No. We weren’t robbed...”
“Are you blind? Look at this mess!” He gestures wildly, his voice booming.
“Everything’s still here,” I point out. “The TV. Your console. They didn’t take anything. They destroyed everything. This was a targeted attack.”
Steve gapes at me. I stride toward the bedroom. It’s the same thing here. All drawers turned upside down. Clothes ripped. I hold my bag closer. My laptop is inside. I’m so glad I took it with me to work. I leave the bedroom, pulling my phone to call the police. When I pass the bathroom, something red catches my attention.
Bile rises in my throat. There are angry red letters scrawled across the mirror.
I warned you
Icy fear grips my lungs. This is because of me. The investigation I insisted on pursuing. Someone’s trying to scare me into silence.
And it’s working.
My phone buzzes. Again. It takes mental effort to drag my eyes from the mirror. The screen lights up with an incoming call.
Archer.
I stab at the screen with a trembling finger.
“Hey, Avs,” he says, his voice chirpy as usual. “Did you talk to Boring Steve about coming up?”
I stare at the red letters.
Congressman Thorne is serious. He’s truly threatening me.
“Archer...” I breathe his name like a prayer, the dam inside me cracking. My eyes go wet, both with fear and anger. “Someone broke into my apartment.”
“What? Shit, are you okay?” Archer’s playful tone vanishes, replaced by urgent concern. “Was it robbery? Or you think it’s related to the threats?”
The mere fact that he takes me seriously about the threats makes me tear up even harder. “They left a message in the bathroom mirror.”
“What kind of message?”
“It says ‘I warned you’.” I lean against the sink, my legs wobbling beneath me. “It’s about the letter I received. I know it.” I can’t believe they really broke into my apartment. Destroyed my things.
What are they going to do next?
“Listen to me,” Archer says. “Pack a bag right now. You’ll call the cops and you’ll spend the night in a hotel. Okay? Tomorrow, you’ll drive here first thing in the morning. Okay? You’ll be safe here.” Archer’s voice is steel, leaving no room for argument.
I nod, then remember that he can’t see me. “Okay. Yeah, you’re right.” I cancel the call, then stride back into the living room after Steve. “Babe,” I call him as he still storms around. “Can you call the cops while I pack us up?”
He shoots me an enraged glance. “Pack us up, Ava. To where?”
“Archer thinks it’s safer if we go stay with him.”
Steve’s eyes go wide in disbelief. “Your criminal brother? Really?”
A shiver of anger runs down my spine. My body snaps back into urgency, ignoring the fear. “Archer offered us a place to stay until this all blows over. I just want you to be safe.”
Steve prowls closer, glaring down at me. “If you wanted me to be safe, you wouldn’t have insisted on this fucking investigation. You care about nothing but your investigation, Ava. That’s why you’ll end up alone.”
His words are like a slap. Steve turns around, pulling his phone. A moment later, he’s talking to the police as he strides into the bedroom.
Leaving me standing alone in the middle of the destruction I brought to ourselves.