Chapter Eleven #2
Noir takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes flicking toward him with lazy amusement.
“Aw,” he says softly. “You worried about me?”
Dagger’s expression flattens.
“Answer the question.”
“I’ll be quick.”
“That wasn’t the question.”
“No,” Noir says, tapping ash into the tray near the balcony door. “It was me not answering it.”
The air tightens between them instantly.
Not full violence.
At least not yet.
But enough that even I feel it from halfway down the hall.
“Boys,” I call lightly. “As fun as whatever emotionally repressed pissing contest this is, I’m going to shower before one of you starts measuring trauma.”
Noir’s eyes flick briefly to me.
Something unreadable passes across his face.
Then he smiles again.
“Don’t miss me too much, little addict.”
“Tragic news,” I say, backing farther into the hallway. “I already forgot you existed.”
“Liar.”
Dagger doesn’t laugh.
He keeps watching Noir like he’s trying to decide whether to push harder or let it go.
Noir grabs his jacket off the back of the couch, still maddeningly calm.
“I said I’ll be quick.”
Then he slips out before Dagger can question him again.
The apartment door shuts behind him with a quiet click.
For a second, Dagger just stands there staring at it, and I head down the hallway still clutching my duffle bag, grin fading slower than I want it to.
***
The shower ends up taking longer than I mean for it to.
Mostly because the hot water feels too good after the last few days.
Steam fills the bathroom while I scrub rave glitter, smoke, and the lingering scent of Noir off my skin, though honestly that last part takes more effort than expected.
Not that I’m complaining.
The mirror fogs completely while my thoughts spiral somewhere dangerous again.
Brynn.
Dante.
The city.
The way both men keep looking at me now like they’re terrified I’ll disappear if they blink too long.
It should scare me more than it does.
Instead it settles low and heavy in my chest like something dangerously close to comfort.
By the time I finally step back out into the apartment wearing black shorts and an oversized hoodie, my damp split pink and purple hair hanging down my back, the apartment smells strongly like coffee and cigarettes again.
Mina’s already there, and Noir is back too.
She’s sprawled across the couch beside him like she’s lived here for years instead of thirty seconds, one leg tucked beneath her while she aggressively button-mashes a controller in ripped black jeans and a tiny grey top that keeps slipping off one shoulder.
Her dark hair hangs down her back in a thick braid nearly to her waist, slightly frizzy from the rain outside.
Street Fighter flashes across the TV screen in violent neon bursts while Noir leans back beside her cigarette dangling loosely between his fingers, somehow playing one-handed and still absolutely destroying her.
“You cheating bitch,” Mina accuses immediately.
“You just suck.”
Then Mina spots me stepping out of the hallway and gasps dramatically.
She immediately launches herself off the couch and into me, hugging me hard enough to nearly knock me backward.
She smells like vanilla perfume, rainwater, iced coffee, and whatever expensive lip gloss she’s constantly reapplying every twenty minutes.
Then she pulls back just enough to study my face carefully.
Her expression softens slightly.
“You look better.”
“That’s because they’re force-feeding me and emotionally imprisoning me.”
“Good.” Mina glances between both men casually. “Honestly, one of you probably should’ve locked her in a room weeks ago.”
“Excuse me?” I gasp.
Dagger snorts quietly into his coffee.
Traitor.
Mina curls up beside me on the couch while both guys hover nearby pretending not to listen to us.
At first the conversation stays light.
Festival drama.
Bad hookups.
Some girl who apparently got banned from a club for trying to bite a DJ.
Then Brynn comes up.
Not suddenly.
More like a ghost drifting quietly into the room.
Mina’s smile fades slightly while turning her coffee cup slowly between both hands.
“She got weird near the end,” she says quietly.
The apartment stills instantly.
Even Dagger looks up from his phone.
“Weird how?” I ask carefully.
Mina hesitates.
Then sighs.
“Paranoid.” Her brows pull together slightly. “Like genuinely scared all the time.”
Cold settles low in my stomach immediately.
“She kept talking about Severance Point like it was alive or something,” Mina continues softer now. “Like the city swallowed people whole if they stayed too long.”
Noir stills near the balcony.
Dagger’s jaw tightens visibly.
Mina notices both reactions immediately.
Silence settles heavily through the apartment after that.
Because suddenly every strange thing about Brynn before she died starts clicking together in horrible ways.
The locks and panic attacks.
The disappearing for days at a time.
The way she stopped sleeping properly.
I thought drugs made her unstable.
Now I’m realizing she was terrified.
My throat tightens painfully.
“She never told me any of that.”
“She probably thought she was protecting you.”
That somehow makes it worse.
Rain hammers harder against the windows while I stare down into my coffee trying not to spiral directly into an emotional breakdown in front of everybody.
Dagger eyes soften slightly just before his phone suddenly buzzes hard against the counter.
Everything changes instantly.
The softness disappears.
He checks the screen once.
Then immediately straightens.
“What?” Noir asks.
“One of the crew needs us at the warehouse. Said he’s got an update on Dante.”
Noir’s already standing before he finishes speaking.
“What happened?”
“Well obviously I don’t know yet since I’m still not at the warehouse you moron”
“But it’s bad.”
“Probably.”
The apartment shifts immediately.
Dagger grabs his jacket off the back of the chair while Noir slides his rings slowly onto his fingers near the balcony.
The atmosphere in the apartment shifts completely.
Softness gone.
Back to Severance Point.
Back to violence waiting outside the apartment walls.
Then Dagger looks toward Noir.
“Stay here.”
Noir immediately scoffs. “Fuck that.”
Dagger’s jaw tightens slightly. “She can’t be here alone right now, for all we know Dante has eyes on this place too.”
“I’m right here, you know,” I mutter from the couch.
Neither of them acknowledge that.
Rude.
Noir grabs his jacket off the balcony chair anyway. “I’m fucking coming with you.”
“You don’t need to.”
“And you don’t need to walk into possible bullshit without backup.”
The tension between them pulls tight for a second before Mina finally cuts in from beside me.
“Oh my god,” she groans dramatically. “You both hover like divorced dads at a school pickup.”
Dagger ignores her completely.
Mina rolls her eyes and waves one hand lazily through the air. “You can both go. I’ll hang out with Blair. We’ll be fine.”
Both men look unconvinced immediately.
“I’m fully capable of babysitting an adult woman you know,” Mina adds.
That finally seems to settle it.
Barely.
Dagger crosses toward me before leaving, fingers hooking lightly beneath my chin while his eyes search mine carefully.
“Please, little relapse. For once, just stay inside.”
“You say that like I’m some badly behaved dog.”
“You literally try escaping every six hours.”
“That’s because this place feels like a luxury prison.”
“It’s temporary.”
“That’s exactly what kidnappers say.”
Noir snorts quietly near the door while pulling his jacket on.
Mina raises one hand innocently from the couch. “I’m an excellent babysitter I swear.”
“I don’t need babysitting.”
“You absolutely do,” all three of them answer simultaneously.
Okay well fuck all of you.
Dagger leans down and presses a quick kiss against my forehead before straightening again.
Tiny movement.
Still enough to make my stomach flip traitorously.
Then both men disappear out the apartment door together.
The second it shuts behind them, silence settles through the apartment.
Mina watches the door for another second before slowly turning toward me.
Then she grins and reaches down beside the couch and grabs her giant tote bag before dumping half the contents onto the cushions beside us.
Lip gloss. Tiny bottles of glitter, even some fishnets.
A goddamn neon bag full of questionable life decisions. Just what I need.
Then finally she yanks out two tiny rave outfits and tosses one directly into my lap.
Black mesh with silver chains and very little actual fabric.
Mina looks up at me with pure chaos in her eyes.
“So,” she says casually, “how long you think we have before they realize we staged a jailbreak?”