Chapter 1
ONE
LIPS
Joey is missing.
The air around me throbs as I’m jostled by the mass of bodies writhing to the shitty rave music.
I stare down at the message on my phone for a second longer before looking over to the bar where Joseph Beaumont Jr. is standing, doing lines of cocaine off of the dirty barrels that are a makeshift bar.
He’s here alone. He paid one of the Fox’s errant lackeys a whole wad of hundred-dollar bills to get in, and now he’s in my fucking town, getting high and groping unimpressed Mounty girls.
Strobe lights dance along the warehouse walls, and there must be five hundred people just in this room, dancing and sweating and getting high.
The speakers are so loud and so close to me that my breath keeps catching when the bass drops, but I learned how to ignore the feeling a long time ago.
Honestly, I was getting bored and sick of watching the night slowly come apart at the seams like it always does.
This is the place to come for the seasoned patrons, after all.
It’s the last day of winter break. Well, it’s three a.m. and I’m just waiting for the Vulture to arrive and collect the package I’ve got for him, then I’m getting out of here.
I picked up eight jobs over the Christmas break, and now I’m flush with cash.
Okay, not flush, but I’ve got Harley’s tuition paid through graduation and most of his housing costs covered.
Better yet, I have a plan to get him out of my checkbook and paying for his own shit.
I’m exhausted, ready for the night to be over and the break with it. Too tired to be dealing with Joey’s bullshit. I text Avery the address of the block of warehouses where the party is being held.
He’s here. I’ve got eyes on him. Are you close by?
I flag down two of the Jackal’s bigger henchmen, collectors he always has at these parties to pick up customers who haven’t paid their balances.
Both of them owe me, enough to do the heavy lifting now for me anyway, and I lead them through the crowd toward the bar without a word exchanged.
Joey doesn’t notice me. He’s too far gone to notice anything other than his high.
I point to him and then watch as one of them knocks him out with a sharp punch to the face.
No one around him flinches. The Fox’s parties always have someone disappearing with no witnesses.
So many eyes refusing to see a damn thing.
ETA is Ten minutes. Blaise is driving and the other two are pissed about the location.
I roll my eyes as I move toward the exit.
Just what I need, the guys giving me shit even though I’m helping them out.
I nod at the doorman and he lets me through, the cold slap of the night air harsh against all of my exposed skin.
Blending into the crowd to get the information the Vulture needed meant conforming to the party standards for clothing, so I’m basically naked.
I have a matching two-piece set on, shorts that barely cover my ass and a strappy bralette.
The fabric it’s made out of is black with metallic thread running through it that shimmers as I move.
I found a new pair of black calf-high Docs at the thrift store last week that complete the look.
With glitter across both cheeks and a high ponytail, I’m just another party girl, here to let loose for the night.
It’s all so exhausting.
Checking my phone yet again, I’m hoping to see a message explaining exactly where the hell the Vulture is, but there’s still no word from the slimy asshole.
Finding Joey here right before Avery sent out her distress call was the first win of my night, one that’s already dragged on for too long, but there’s nothing I can do now but wait.
I let out a frustrated sigh and look out into the darkness of the early morning.
The docks look abandoned.
No one is allowed to leave the party before dawn, no exceptions, and the window to get out of this place is just as strict.
Anyone left in the building thirty minutes after the sun breaks over the horizon is dragged out in a body bag.
It’s usually an even split between the people who died during the rave, overdoses, murder, and the people who passed out from their drug of choice and are dealt with by the Fox’s clean-up crew.
Those rules don’t apply to me, so the guy on the door barely registered my exit, other than the respectful chin dip he gave me that would’ve been missed by anyone else around me.
Unfortunately, they also don’t apply to anyone owned by another member of the Twelve, so I’m surrounded by the Jackal’s men.
They’re a constant presence in the city, his insignia branded on hundreds, and they’re especially prevalent down here in the rough areas.
I’m not in any danger from them specifically, but they all report back to him, and I have no doubt they’re watching my every move. He’s not exactly pleased with me at the moment, but his thugs don’t know that. Yet .
As I look over and find one of them grinning at me, I realize that’s not exactly true.
The Jackal’s most trusted inductee, Luca, definitely knows something is up, but he hasn’t changed his approach to me in the slightest. He’s also one of the only men in the city who tries to flirt every time he sees me but, given the fact that he’s a notorious womanizer who turns the charm on for every woman in his presence who breathes, the Jackal has never taken it as a threat to his supposed claim over me.
It’s never felt anything but friendly.
We’re definitely not friends, but he’s someone I work with who’s easy enough to get along with, and shit is going to be less complicated for me if he’s around.
I guess he’s a colleague of sorts, which is a hilarious way to phrase it.
Especially considering he’s standing here at the docks with blood spatter on his polished shoes and his knuckles busted and bleeding, but that just means it’s been a busy night for him.
Still, he stands out from the rest of the Jackal’s men.
He’s one of those rare types who can get his hands dirty without ever looking like a hot mess or like he doesn’t take care of himself.
His jacket is off and with his sleeves rolled up, his tattooed forearms are on display.
There’s nothing about the designs that jump out at me specifically, but the simple black rose tattooed upside down on his cheek has always caught my attention.
Not enough for me to risk asking around about it, or even asking him, but the fact that it matches the one engraved on his pistol—which is now sitting on full display in his shoulder holster—itches at the back of my brain.
A couple of the older girls at my group home once saw me climb out of his car after a job we both did for the Jackal.
Their fear of me was overridden by their jealousy of seeing me with him, something I didn’t even know was possible, and they cornered me as I left the bathroom from cleaning myself up to ask me for details on our presumed night together.
I didn’t have any details to give them, obviously, but they didn’t believe me, whining and acting pathetic until finally I offered to pass him their numbers.
I never understood the appeal, never looked at a guy and thought he was worth the normal risks that come with opening yourself up to someone, let alone the extra baggage I carry.
God, I’ve never looked at a guy and actually wanted him…
until I met the three problems about to pick up Joey, anyway.
Those convictions may need a review, but I’m avoiding the problem like my life depends on it.
The gravel crunches underneath my Docs as I sidle up to Luca, and when I give him a wry look, he grins back at me easily as he gestures to the bags at his feet.
My bags. The ones packed and ready to head back to school with me that should be sitting in a hotel room right now while I sleep.
The one I booked nearby, knowing I had one last delivery to finish before I could leave the city, and I planned ahead to make sure I still got a decent night’s sleep.
The plan went to hell three hours ago, and, best case scenario, sleep is still an hour away thanks to the fucking Vulture.
I check my phone.
Nothing.
Luca lets out a chuckle at my long sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he peers down at me. “Long night, Princess? Kept them safe for you, don’t worry.”
I nod, but before I can figure out a reply that isn’t me cussing out another member of the Twelve, Luca’s eyes drift over to Joey and his eyebrows raise. “Are you putting the trash out for the Jackal before you go? I can take care of that for you so you can head home.”
Glancing back at Joey’s unconscious form slung over the other guy’s shoulder, I let out an amused huff of my own. What a funny coincidence that the label Luca chose to slap on Joey’s drugged-out state is the same one that asshole chose for me. Joey would be pissed .
“I called in for a collection of this one. Can you let DeMarco know to expect a car?”
Luca nods, shifting to unclip a radio from his belt, but before he can relay the message, my phone rings. I hold up a finger to stop him as I answer it.
Avery breathes pure ice down the line, but it’s not directed at me. “We’re here, but the guy at the gate won’t let us through.”
I bite back the malevolent grin that wants to take over my face as I all but drawl back to her, “Give him the phone.”
Luca lets out another chuckle as he tucks the radio back onto his belt. I hear Avery argue with DeMarco, then his asshole voice barks down the phone at me, “Listen here, kid, we don’t let extra people in after hours. Now you need to tell these little rich fucks to get on out of here?—”