The Reluctant Hero

32

IOU

Amanda

The warning system settles as soon as I’m in the cop car. I’m too numb to be confused about it. All I know is that it was there and now it isn’t. It doesn’t feel as important right now. It’s not going to be useful for much longer anyway.

My first few hours at the police station were nonstop crying. I was so thankful we didn’t end up at the golf course that the tears started flowing, and now they won’t stop. I may be at the police station, but who knows where I’m going after this. They could be getting another spot ready to kill me and bury my body.

I’m sitting in some kind of interrogation room, but no one has come in since I was dropped off here. It’s a shallow hope that they stay away. Not with the threat of Mikael hanging over my head.

I can’t even think about that. For some reason, I’m in complete denial of their guilt, even when they’ve proven that they’re scumbags.

My heart wants more, and my brain is trying to bitch slap it into shape.

As time slowly crawls by, I have nothing to do but pace and think. I don’t want to do either one but it’s all I have.

I’m alone. I don’t have money for bribes. I don’t even own a gun. The only people I have phone numbers for want me dead. Not including my parents but I can’t call them now. Maybe not for a long time. I can’t risk them getting involved in this.

Thank God the phone is dead. They took it from me before they left me here, along with my other belongings. Seeing the eviction notice again was a gut punch. It’s only a matter of time before I’m dead meat.

At first, that prospect is terrifying. Then time goes by and I start getting mad. Madder than I’ve ever been before. It isn’t the mouth-running, thoughtless anger I usually contend with. This is something dark and seething that hides deep inside, making me cold. It fills up that hollow space that opened in Gabriel’s office and leaves me calm.

I sit down to wait for someone to come in and question me or kill me. If they do, I’m not going down alone.

No one comes.

I’m left all alone with my hate-filled thoughts until I lose track of time. I keep seeing the looks on their faces as the cops took me away. The smug satisfaction that I want to punch off.

What would be the point? Gabriel is rich and powerful. He has a pack of jackals at his beck and call. I need to stay away from them until I have more information. A plan. A way to separate them and take them out one at a time. I should have taken up South’s offer to be a ninja assassin immediately.

I think of that bunker. The body and the camera. Was that the missing PI? Who caught him snooping? Who killed him?

This is so much more than a cheating husband and property purchases. We now have a multi-million dollar bunker for drugs and sex trafficking. I’ve seen enough crime shows to know what I was looking at. It’s either that or a serial killer’s dream for the rich.

If I can’t take down Gabriel and company, that leaves Blake and all his lawyer and judge friends—all those yellow and pink highlighted names. I can build myself up to taking on Matthias and Co. But I no longer have access to that information. Gabriel does. I’ll have to find another way unless he has them all on lockdown now that I’ve identified them.

I’ve been so stupid.

I could always go back to Mrs. Danvers' place to get the names again. But it wouldn’t give me the lawyers and judges. I doubt any of this is in public records. That’s probably why it’s in the Matthias building to begin with. A cover-up.

The thought of bringing trouble back to that apartment complex makes me shudder. So far, they’ve focused on me. If I stay away they won’t know Mrs. Danvers was the one giving me the letters. Manny won’t get questioned or hurt.

I’ll have to wing it. I've gone through an internet list of lawyers before, and I can do it again, minus the phone calls.

I can’t leave. What I’ve seen can’t be left alone to rot under the sand. Blake bought a lot of properties. I only visited one . Who knows what else he’s been doing and who is backing him?

One site closed down. That means there might be another one. I need dates on what properties he bought first. It might give me a timeline to follow and make a guess. Unless the golf course isn’t the first. I don’t want to think about that. But the people that were in those cages had to go somewhere. They looked like they had been occupied.

I shudder at the thought. I feel sick all over again, but my expression remains flat.

Those women in the pictures. I’ve been feeling disgusted by them. Now I’m wondering if they weren’t willing to be with him to begin with.

I’m going to kill Blake. And anyone who helped. Anyone who saw what was happening and thought it was a great idea. As many of them as I can.

The thought doesn’t startle me like it should. It relieves some of the pressure building up.

I’m a Jefferson. I won’t stop fighting until I’m dead.

I’m used to running my mouth with anger. This goes way beyond being a brat now. Maybe it’s time for me to really let loose. Instead of hiding or ignoring things I could go balls to the wall crazy.

Instead of pumping me up, the idea calms me down. Something just clicked over for me. I have no idea what it is, and I don’t care. I’m calm and rational right now. I have a plan that isn’t a plan at all. No one could follow it because I have no idea where I’m going with it. I’m ok with that.

Blake. His bestie lawyer friend. Fullerton. Matthias and Co.

They want to scare me? Threaten me? Kill me?

Let’s see how they like it.

They’re already tipped off, and I’ve got nothing to lose. What’s a little more digging going to do?

To do that, I have to get out of here. To do that, I have to have at least one damn visitor to open the door. Hurry up and come to kill me already!

Someone in a uniform opens the door but doesn’t step inside. I look at him calmly, waiting for whatever is coming next. I don’t feel the doom pressing in, so I’m curious instead of defensive.

“You’re out of here, lady. Collect your things with the guard out front.”

I’m not going to question the catch and release. They have no idea what they’ve just let out of this jail.

I don’t hesitate to stand and walk past him, following the path they took me down to get out. I stop at the guard's desk. My dead phone, the eviction letter, my key card for the elevator, and a small amount of cash are handed to me.

The second I’m out the front door I take in a deep breath of fresh air. It’s evening. I got here by eight thirty in the morning. Now it’s dark out. That’s how long I was left alone in a room and ignored. It’s all adding up to the cold rage inside me. One more thing to keep me going.

The first person I see has teal hair with dark blue highlights and a blank expression.

“Let’s go,” South says breathily.

“No. You’re with Gabriel.” My voice is so flat and cold it reminds me of that jackass. It also gives me a tearing sensation in my chest that I can’t ignore.

I can’t believe I slept with him. Or comforted him. Just another man I wasted time on. Loser is terrible enough, but Gabriel? Somehow, that’s the one I can’t stand to think about.

Maybe Mrs. Danvers will find some pictures to help me process it.

Oh God.

“I’m not. Who owes for this?” she turns her dead eyes on me, twisting her lips in a psychotic smile. “They’re going to pay up.”

Pay up. Yeah, they are. As many of them as I can find. That doesn’t answer why she’s here. She saw me get arrested. She had to have asked questions about it.

“Why bail me out?” I glance around the parking lot suspiciously. It isn’t until my chest begins to ache that I realize who I’m looking for. Or the group I’m looking for.

Of course, they aren’t here. They wouldn’t be unless it was to throw me back inside or kill me.

“No bail. No sign of arrest. It’s all gone.”

My gaze sharpens on her.

“How convenient,” I shift on my feet and eye her suspiciously.

“Tera is a master at wiping corrupt cops' computers. As far as anyone else is concerned, they think you were a witness to a crime, and your interview is over.”

What? How is that possible?

“Gabriel wanted me here. The rest of them, too.” My warning is wary, a test.

“Too bad,” she shrugs. “They can take this decision up with me or fuck off.”

I stare at her, and she returns the favor. Her best friend is a hacker who cleaned out the reason I’m here. Her boyfriend is scary enough he could be in a slasher film. And she’s standing in front of me, utterly unafraid of the consequences of defying Gabriel.

I’m smelling a team-up, but I have a few reservations.

“I didn’t steal Gabriel’s fucking money.”

“I don’t care. I’m here for you, nothing else.”

That should have been a heartwarming statement, but the way she says it makes me frown.

“What does that mean? We’ve hung out twice. I shouldn’t mean shit to you.”

“Normally, you wouldn’t,” she agrees readily. “But you see me. And today, I saw you.”

“What are you talking about?” My frown gets darker. Her invisibility crap is going to break what little is left of my mind.

“This morning, you wanted to give up. You were ready to stop fighting and become prey. You’re a predator. A new one that’s learning to use your teeth, but it’s there. I see you’ve perked up some with isolation, which is good.”

I don’t think I’ll ever understand this woman. That doesn’t make her wrong, though. I was giving up this morning. All my support got yanked out from under me.

And now South is standing right here telling me to get in her truck so I can get revenge. Even if this is a trick, what do I have to lose?

My warning system hasn’t gone off. I’m not feeling anything dangerous coming my way. It came up and got worse the further into the bunker I went. It showed up when Gabriel had me arrested and at the gym. If I start paying attention to it instead of brushing it off, I might have a better chance of survival.

It’s quiet now.

“Shade is his brother. That won’t make waves?” I take a few steps forward, almost against my will.

“Gabriel will pay what he owes,” she says as if it doesn’t matter.

That sounds like a hill of awesome I want to climb. There are a set of new problems, though. If she’s not with them, then being around me is a death sentence.

Unless her superpower is real, too. I’m losing my mind, and I’m not chasing after it.

“I’m in trouble,” I tell her softly, keeping an eye on our surroundings. “I don’t know if you should be around me.”

She shrugs one shoulder casually. “I’ll deal with it.”

The blank look I give her doesn’t seem to faze her at all.

“I’m serious ,” I insist through gritted teeth. “They’re trying to kill me.”

“I haven’t found him yet. When I do, Shade has asked if he can question him.”

I shake my head, trying to follow along, but I’m even more confused now.

“Who are you talking about?”

“The driver from Saturday. Get in the truck. Shade bought you a gift. Use it to collect what you’re owed.”

She strolls away with a staggering amount of confidence while I stand frozen. There’s a lot wrong with this scenario. A lot.

Balls to the wall, right? No pattern?

Screw it.

I catch up to her and keep pace to the white truck. My knee isn’t bothering me as badly now. Walking is much easier. She parked directly in the middle of the lot. There’s a long box in the front seat propped up. I shift it around so I can get in.

Something drops into my lap as I’m buckling up. When I look from the cushioned gloves to South, she smirks.

“That’s from me. Blisters would make you hesitate.”

She drives while I undo the tape holding the box closed. Inside is what looks like a metal cane. It has a bulb tip on one end that’s very familiar and a subtle tape grip on the shaft. The other end of it is a flat piece that looks like an extended version of a mallet. Either side of the headpiece comes to a dull point. It’s well-balanced and easy to twirl. The weight of the tip is slightly heavier than the mallet. It’s as if he knows I was a majorette all through school. I haven’t thought about that in forever. Can I even still do it?

“What is this?” I look it over carefully with a frown. It’s somehow perfect.

“Fun,” she says flatly. “Solid but light, good for continuous hits no matter how weak a person is. The gloves will protect your hands. I would recommend wearing them any time you think about picking that up. A plain sight weapon.”

“You’re giving me a weapon?” I raise a brow, impressed despite myself. Damn, it really is perfect.

“You said you would hurt yourself with a knife. Consider this a walking stick and move on.”

I give her a dubious look and then see the street we’re on.

“Where are we going?” I ask warily. Now that I’m paying attention, I recognize where we are.

“Loser.”

“ No ,” I snap furiously. My hands tighten on the bar until my knuckles blanch.

South calmly pulls over and parks, twisting in her seat to face me.

“I thought you would want to start with him.”

“Not yet,” my eyes slide over to her.

Her head tilts curiously as she takes in my grim expression. “Do you have a plan?”

“No plans,” my voice settles into that dead space sound, the anger gone as quickly as it came up. “I’ll chat with Blake tomorrow.”

She studies me for a second. “You aren’t putting it off.”

I meet her gaze without flinching. A calm feeling envelopes me, leaving my voice as emotionless as hers. “I’m not. I need to figure out what to ask. I need a direction to go in so I can get to the next one. And then the next.”

They’re all going down.

Her eyes narrow as if she’s suspicious. “Fine. We’ll head to destination two, then. On the way, you can fill me in.”

It takes me a minute to convince myself that telling her everything is the right call. I’ll watch her reactions, if she has any, and go from there. I need backup and she’s scary as hell. Her bestie is a serious hacker who isn’t afraid of the cops. Shade is a genius at picking weapons that I might actually be able to use. Hitting the gym a couple of times in as many months doesn’t make me a badass. This thing is light enough that I could do a lot of damage without much effort. The rest I’ll have to make up for in unrelenting rage. I think I’ve got that covered.

I start at the very beginning with the cheating and my move. The letters and everything that followed. I hit the highlights of my time with Gabriel and company, focusing on the folders and any of the behavior they displayed that was suspicious. She seems to notice the shortened version because when I say any of their names, her eyes dart to me and away quickly. She doesn’t react to much of it, not even when I tell her about the body. Ace trashing my place and pushing me down the stairs. Their accusations of theft and denying any truth to the things I’ve told them. The arrest and their involvement with Blake.

After that, a silence settles between us that isn’t uncomfortable. I think she needs a second to think things over.

“If you want to drop me off, I get it,” I tell her flatly. This is a lot to throw on a person you barely know, badass or not. I’m not planning to be quiet about any of it, either. At least I know people will at least question my death.

She pulls up to the apartments I’ve been living in for the last half year and parks.

“Grab your things.”

“I don’t think there’s anything left,” I say, staring at the broken window of my apartment. My lips flatten with anger. I didn’t notice that yesterday.

“We’ll look. Check your bank account too. Close it out tomorrow. Cash from now on. Keep it in your socks and random areas on your body, not just pockets. I’ll teach you a few things to help get you by. Give you a few tools for survival.”

I’m frowning when she slides out of the truck and closes her door. I put the gloves on, grab the stick, and follow. I don’t feel anything when we enter the building or when we climb the stairs. Everything is calm inside me even though everything seems eerily quiet. No loud TVs or talking can be heard.

The mess is just as bad as I remember it. Nothing has changed except my perception of it.

Ace did this to me.

A tearing sensation hits me in the chest and ricochets through my body. It takes me a few minutes of deep breathing in the hallway to relax again. Once it’s done, I march back in and start going through things.

The drawer of pictures is broken. The pictures are gone. I close the fridge on reflex.

South is on the other side of the room, picking up random objects that have been destroyed and taking pictures. There isn’t much to go through. Ripped clothes and what little food I had were spread everywhere. A few pairs of shoes that look cut up to the point of being useless. The majority of it is the stuffing from the flimsy mattress and the blanket. They even cut up my phone charger. It can remain a dead paperweight for a while longer. I’m not sure who to show the video to yet, anyway.

I check the medicine cabinet and find the banking info is gone. My eyes narrow on the bare surface in front of me. What did they do? Hijack my information and transfer it themselves to prove my guilt? There might not be a point in closing the account. I might have negative three million dollars in it.

I come back out as South holds up a pair of panties. A cold trickle of unease rolls down my spine. They’ve been cut up, mainly around the crotch. The sight of it makes me feel sick. Maybe Ace likes golf , too.

The click of her taking another picture snaps me out of it before my brain takes it any further.

All my pajamas are ripped to shreds. I find one pair of jeans that seem unscathed and no shirts. Everything has been shredded and tossed. The contents of the purse I left behind are spilled over the floor. It’s a good thing my wallet is safely in my back pocket. The cops didn’t disturb anything in it. Hurray for silver linings.

“Forget it,” I grab an empty trash bag and toss the jeans and some socks into it. There isn’t anything else. I have to let it go.

I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. Who knows who might be watching? I don’t want to get caught within an hour of being released.

She follows me back down the stairs, and my feet freeze for a second. I slowly turn toward the landlord’s place with narrowed eyes.

The door to my place is hanging on by a hinge. The window is busted. Obvious signs of a break-in. That happened sometime Sunday, and it’s Monday night now. No one has said anything? Yeah, right. Plus, he claimed that he never threatened me.

Hello, random step one.

I don’t say anything, but South follows me without missing a beat. Once I get to the door, I knock placidly. The sound isn’t loud with the cushioning of the gloves, but it’s clear.

“What?” He snaps as he yanks the door open.

I don’t wait for him to say anything else. I plant my foot in his thin stomach and kick as hard as I can. It surprises me when he loses his balance and stumbles back to fall on his butt. Neither one of us was prepared for this.

South steps inside, and I follow, closing the door behind me with a bang.

“Did Blake buy this complex?”

“You’re insane!” He screams.

The high-pitched sound makes me twitch, and then I raise the ‘walking stick,’ bringing it down with both hands over the chair across from his desk. It breaks into pieces with a satisfying crunch that I want to hear again.

“She isn’t,” South assures him with a tilt of her head as she watches.

“Answer me,” I snarl at him, imitating one of my heavy metal bands to excellent effect.

“Get out before I call the cops,” he gets to his feet quickly and advances on me.

“Shade said to hurt them first when you’re questioning someone. Then ask.”

“Could have said that before,” I grumble and brace myself, holding the stick like a golf club.

She leans back against the desk with her arms crossed to watch.

“Answer my questions, and you won’t get hurt,” I tell him staunchly. He laughs.

“I’d rather deal with this head-on, forget the cops.”

“Mistake,” South says clearly.

He rushes me. I got distracted by South’s side commentary, so I don’t resist when he hits me like a linebacker with his shoulder in my chest. The air gets knocked out of me as we both sprawl across the floor, my head narrowly missing the second chair.

I’m coughing and trying to catch my breath when he rolls to his feet and smirks down at me.

“You think you can come in here and what? Interrogate me? This isn’t an action movie, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. I hate that pet name. It was Blake’s favorite.

Instead of regaining my feet I sweep the stick through the air, hitting him in the knee. There’s that crunching sound, a little wetter this time. And then a lot of screaming as he falls over, clutching his knee.

South’s brows go up as I struggle to my feet.

“You broke it! You bitch!”

“Why is that always the first curse word,” I mutter angrily and stand over his writhing form. I move into a flat wrist twirl with the stick. The move is fast and made a lot more menacing with the mallet end spinning around at speed. I’ve still got it.

His face gets even paler, if that was possible and South tilts her head with both brows raised.

“Just answer the fucking question, dipshit. You did this to you.”

“Blake paid me to harass you, that’s it!” He screams out as tears roll down his cheeks. Then, he spends a lot of time rocking and moaning in pain.

“He doesn’t own this place?” I ask after he settles and stop the twirl with a snap of the baton.

“No,” his voice cracks, his wide eyes firmly on the weapon.

“Was that answer worth a knee?” I ask him in a bland tone.

“Please don’t kill me,” he sobs.

I give South a skeptical look. “Can you believe this guy?”

“I’ll tell them everything,” he babbles over me.

That regains my attention.

“You’ll tell who what?” I ask darkly.

“Matthias’ guard. The big guy. I’ll tell him about Blake. I’ll tell him I lied. I swear.”

I stare down at him without expression. He’s talking about Mikael. They said the landlord told them I was a liar. Yet he knows that Mikael is Gabriel’s bodyguard. A niggling suspicion raises its hand in my mind.

“Who owns the building?” I ask flatly.

“I don’t know. Someone with Matthias. I don’t know a name!”

Then, the eviction letter is real. I was so blinded by my faith in them when the red slip of paper burning a hole in my back pocket was the first shot over the bow.

“Gabriel is not involved in this,” South says, watching him cry at our feet.

“He just admitted it right in front of you,” I glare at her.

The landlord looks at me and then where I’m looking.

“W-who are you talking to?”

I blink at him and look up at South again. She’s already staring at me with a hair-raising psychotic grin on her face. Being this close to her, with that expression, should terrify me. Instead, it pisses me the fuck off.

“You don’t see her,” I kick his foot, forgetting that I just broke his knee.

He screams and cries, but I don’t remove my stare from South, and she doesn’t look away from me. She looks like a frozen sculpture waiting to make a jump scare.

“You’re the only one here! Please! Leave me alone.”

He keeps begging as my head tilts to the side.

Either I’m crazy, or the rest of the world is. I don’t think I give a shit anymore.

I can tell when I’m in danger, and she can’t be seen. Hello, new reality. I’m too numb to give a fuck about you.

“Whatever,” I mutter and leave.

South is right behind me as he struggles to grab the phone off his desk.

“Sloppy,” she comments as soon as we get to the truck.

“Unpredictable, Captain Invisible,” I correct her with a glare. “It’s my MO right now.”

“Homicide detective speak.”

“Stop being a dumbass and drive,” I snap and slam the door closed. Stupid, invisible, judgmental asshole.

“You’re lucky you entertain me,” she says flatly, and we move on to the next destination she has planned.

I’m surprised and not at the same time as we pull up to the darkened Matthias LLC building. A faint stirring of pain and a stronger whirlwind of anger rises. My hands tighten around the stick again. I never took the gloves off. At this point, I might as well sew them onto my skin.

She gets out to open the VIP access while I watch in confusion. According to the clock on the dash, it’s after hours, almost eleven at night. What are we doing here? Hopefully, we're stealing the files.

We drive straight to the back, where Ace’s truck is still parked. Right next to it is the fancy white SUV they all travel in together. If their vehicles are here, did they take something else home?

“They’re upstairs,” South comments as she backs into a parking space.

“I’m not ready for them yet,” I whisper, trying to sound angry and failing miserably.

“You’ll have to settle for their transportation then.” She doesn’t miss a beat.

I stare at her blankly for a moment. “Cameras.”

“Not an issue,” she replies.

We’re banking on her special power to prevent the cameras from working now? You know what? Who cares?

“You know when they’re leaving? I don’t want to get killed yet.”

“Yet? And they won’t be leaving.”

“How do you know?” I pressure her as my eyes narrow.

“They aren’t with Blake. A betrayal will have them in a tailspin. You’ve been with them for long enough to change them. They’ll be mourning.”

The image of Gabriel’s frozen expression flashes in my mind’s eye. Ace’s refusal to look at me. Mikael’s glare and Cade’s disgusted mockery. They’re right back to where we were when we first met. The change was fake.

“I doubt that,” I scoff and slide out to approach the truck.

South joins me with a tire iron, pulling on her own set of gloves. “You’ll see.”

“I won’t,” I assure her darkly and start swinging.

I make it fun in between hits, practicing with it in a series of twirls, tosses, and spins. My body falls into it naturally, even though it leaves me out of breath. I haven’t spent this much time on my toes in years.

I don’t stop until my hands are numb and I can barely lift my arms. Every single thing they’ve said or done comes out one hit at a time. Accompanied to the tune of breaking glass and dented metal. At one point, all of the airbags go off in the SUV and I pause as if this is the point I’ll get caught. No alarms go off. No extended horn honking. No one comes running. It’s as if we’re in our own world.

When I’m gasping for air, and everything looks like it has a dent, I study the pristine hood with narrowed eyes. The end of the stick has dulled points but I notice it pierced the metal too. It’s sharp enough to leave a message if I use enough force. That won’t be a problem.

When I'm done, I admire my handiwork with a vicious smile. South gives me a terrifying psycho grin, and both of us are out of breath.

“Look at that,” I pant and gesture weakly with the stick. “I’d say that’s totaled, wouldn’t you?”

Her shoulders shake as she takes it all in, a wheezing sound escaping her. I guess that’s her laugh. I never imagined her being capable of it.

She stabilizes faster than I do. I wander back to her truck as she knives the tires. The gloves come off as I watch the vehicles sink to their rims. My hands are tingling and red.

I’m still sweating with the AC on full blast and gasping for air as we leave. South is now calm and collected. The only sign she exerted any effort is her mussed hair. Her phone goes off, and she checks it quickly.

“Shade’s getting concerned,” she tells me and changes directions with a quick U-turn.

She obviously doesn’t text and drive so I offer to do it for her.

The innocent offer gets a sly look and a smirk. “Sure. Be sure to tell him that it’s you, and I gave you permission without a game.”

I raise an eyebrow at that and text him back after she gives me the code.

Seconds after the read notification comes up, her phone starts ringing with an emo song. I put it on speaker when I see Shade’s name on the screen.

“What the fuck do you mean she didn’t have to play a game?” His enraged voice blasts from the speakers as South’s shoulders shake in laughter.

“Tone it down, you sappy fuck!” I snap back. “She’s driving, and she didn’t want to text. I figured you’d freak out if you didn’t hear back, so I answered. You’re welcome .”

“Is that her? Oh my gosh, you have her Southie?” An excited and breathless female voice squeals out.

“I do,” South answers placidly, the humor no longer in sight.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” the happy voice celebrates.

I glance at South with a frown.

“Amanda, this is Tera. Tera, this is Amanda. She was a baton twirler. I’m impressed with her skills.” She says the last word with as much emphasis as she can manage, surprising me.

“Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, that’s perfect ! I can’t wait to meet you, Amanda!”

“Uh, ok? Me too? And thank you for helping me.” Her innocent demeanor takes me back about forty-five steps in confusion. This is South’s bestie? How?

“We’re playing a game,” South says in a bland tone that cracks my composure.

“This is not a fucking game , South!” I yell in her ear.

There’s complete silence on the other side of the phone call for a second.

“Hello?” I demand angrily. “Did you call just to be a dick? We’re on our way to you. I’m hanging up.”

I need to shout at South some more.

“Stop yelling at my fiancé, Amanda,” Shade says in a deadly voice.

I lean towards the dashboard to scoff. “Come off it. You’re just happy you get to call her your fiancé . The vague threat is window dressing, you fucking sap.”

Innocent giggling starts up as Shade curses quietly.

“Bye!” I punch a finger into the disconnect button.

“Rude,” South eyes me as I lean back.

“I can’t be around your pregnant bestie or your fiancé, South,” I tell her solemnly. The turnaround in my tone makes her look at me with a mini frown. “They want me dead, remember? It isn’t safe for them.”

Her eyes snap back to the road, and her brows furrow deeper.

“I don’t think it’s safe for you either.” I sigh in frustration and lean my temple against the cold window. “Drop me off somewhere.”

“No,” she says absently. “Shade can take care of himself. I’ll deal with it before he has a chance to prove it. Tera…”

“She sounds innocent. How far along is she?” If I have to rub her nose in this, I will. South is awesome, and her self-confidence is staggering. A little too staggering. She can’t be everywhere at once, though.

South doesn’t answer me.

I glance down at her phone and shift a little so she can’t see. She gave me the code so I can open it. There are only two numbers saved in the contacts.

I slide the ringer off and click on Tera to send a quick text, trying to be subtle.

Me: This is Amanda. I’m in trouble. Meeting not good for you. Stay safe!

I keep an eye on South, who’s focusing on the road when the phone vibrates.

Tera: You are everything I hoped for. Raincheck. Out of here.

The amount of clapping hands, hearts, and smiley face emojis that follow is slightly concerning. I delete it and make sure it’s totally gone before I relax.

A few minutes later, a silver car passes us. I recognize Asher's blond hair. A young brunette woman leans across him to wave at us with a giant, excited grin.

South raises a finger back, and her eyes roll toward me without moving her head.

“Snooze and lose,” I flip her off.

“A game,” her shoulders relax after she says it, and I raise a brow.

“No. Keeping people as safe as I can. At least the innocent ones.”

“You would be safer with Gabriel.”

“Don’t you fucking dare. Let me jump out of this truck, going at full speed. That would be safer than that pack of jackals. Did he have me arrested today? I forget. I didn’t put it in my planner, but I could swear he did.”

“He paid.”

“Good for him. Not forgiven . Besides, as soon as he sees his SUV I think protection and me would not be in the same stratosphere for him. Plus I don’t know how far in league with Blake they are. No chance.”

I’m gutted at saying it out loud.

“Gabriel despises Blake for many reasons. They aren’t a team. You’ll stay with me. Get some rest. A shower.”

“Can I do laundry first?” I ask darkly. I’m ignoring the first part of her speech. The thought of wearing something that got tossed around like trash disgusts me. The clothes I’m in currently disgust me, too. I’ve gotten used to the sunburned feel of sand grating everywhere. I’m also afraid I’ll smell either Ace or Gabriel’s cologne. I cringe at the knife thrust of pain the thought brings up.

“Of course,” she replies blandly. “What are you feeling right now?”

I glance at her in confusion before I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hollow.”

She nods, but her brows furrow. “Hungry hollow or full hollow?”

How weird is it that she understands what that means when it’s a whole new experience for me? I’m used to the fiery rage, not this cold seething inside that leaves me blank. I have to focus on trying to explain it.

I’m calm. Like whatever anger is inside got pacified by the violence I indulged in. It isn’t gone, though.

“Waiting?” I try with a frown. Yeah, that sounds about right. It’s storing itself up for another big explosion. Something far worse than property damage can cover.

She blinks and tilts her head. “You’re focused now. After some rest, you’ll be better. And then you can feed it.”

I know exactly what she means and I’m concerned about how not concerned I am over it.

We head out of town to her small home. A fancy car is parked under the awning, and all the lights are on. As soon as we hit the gravel, Shade is on the front porch waiting for her in some kind of cartoon pajamas.

“Not a word about his clothes,” she warns me with a soft hiss.

“So he likes cartoons? Who cares?” I glare at her. “I like pink and little bows on my underwear. You just saw the proof. Say something about it fucker, I dare you.”

She blinks and lets out a soft sigh. “I forgot who you are for a minute. I won’t again.”

I shrug, even though I’m surprised at the barely there apology. I grudgingly return the courtesy. “Thanks for the place to stay for the night.”

Shade does not look happy to see me when she parks. How shocking.

“Amanda is going to catch some sleep in the spare room tonight and do some laundry. She can use some of my pajamas in the meantime.”

His eyes dart to me in surprise and then go cold. He studies my face and the limp that started after I totaled two vehicles. The dirt I’m still covered in. My freely bleeding wounds. All of it gets dissected.

“Come in, Amanda. I’ll put on some tea so we can talk.”

“Thanks for not making it sound like a death threat,” I mock his tone. “Can I request cyanide? I’ve heard good things, and I like almonds.”

“Fresh out,” he tells me as he wraps his arm around South to draw her close. She kisses his jaw and rubs her hand across his chest. Seeing them together makes me look away from them sharply.

“The service here is horrible,” I shake my head and pass him. I’m kind of hoping he kicks me out for both of their safety.

He doesn’t, no matter how much I tell him. And I’m too selfish to even protest.