Chapter 3
KIERA
Iwas in way over my head. Last night, it had taken all my mental strength just to pick up the gun—gingerly, between my thumb and index finger—and get it back into the bag.
Now, that bag sat on the passenger seat of my lemon yellow Volkswagen Beetle. No one did nefarious money drops in a lemon yellow Beetle. I knew that. It hardly screamed stealth mode. But it wasn’t like I had much choice. I was lucky to have a car at all.
So, there I was, on Caspian Street, idling in the dark at the ass crack of dawn, parked across the street from a bodega with the numbers four-one-two stenciled over the darkened glass door.
The windows had a few seasonal Halloween decorations, as well as advertisements for cigarettes and lottery tickets.
I checked the time. It was ten minutes before six, but all the lights were off inside the shop and, as far as I could tell, there were no signs of life.
However…I supposed they wouldn’t tell me to make the drop during regular business hours. They wouldn’t want other people around, right? So maybe someone was in there, sitting in the dark, which may have been creepy, but it was totally on brand.
I glanced over at the bag.
I looked back to the bodega.
Most people appreciated punctuality, but I wasn’t sure what to do. Was I supposed to go to them, or were they coming to me? I was probably the only panicked woman parked in a yellow car outside the shop, so it wasn’t like they couldn’t guess who I was.
If I was supposed to go to them, had the man on the phone forgotten to give me a secret knock? A password?
Or maybe the door would simply be unlocked. They’d want to make this easy for me. For both of us.
Okay. I was getting out. I reached for the bag, then hesitated.
If the door to the bodega was locked, I didn’t want to stand outside for long, holding a gun and a bag full of cash. This was Caspian Street. Not exactly a safety-first neighborhood.
I decided to keep the bag locked securely in my car while I checked out the door situation. If it was open, I could come back to the car, grab the bag, and run back across the street to the bodega. If the door to the store was locked, I’d come back to the car and wait.
I got out, beeped my locks, and crossed the street. By the time I hopped onto the curb, I noticed the sign on the door with the business hours. They wouldn’t open for the public until seven.
I tried the door. Locked.
I pressed my forehead to the glass and cupped the sides of my eyes to get a better look inside. The only light was shining through the beer cooler’s glass doors, but I thought I saw a shadow move across the floor. Someone was in there.
I knocked and yelled through the crack in the door. “Hello?”
I put my ear to the door but didn’t hear a response. Or maybe I heard a cat?
I peered inside again.
Nope. No cat. No anybody.
Hopefully, this wasn’t going to be a repeat of yesterday where they made me wait all day.
I knocked again, then checked my phone. It was now only a few minutes before six. Someone should definitely be in there.
I confirmed the address over the door. This was definitely the right place. Maybe there was a different entrance?
I jogged around the corner and—victory!—found another door. But it was also locked.
Now, I was getting irritated. I was on time. If they wanted this bag so badly, they should be on time, too. My idiot brother’s life was at stake.
I pounded on the door. “Hello? Anybody in there?”
The door whipped open so fast I staggered backward, tripped over the curb, and landed on my ass…in the gutter…in a wet pile of fallen leaves.
The man who stepped out onto the sidewalk was nothing like what I’d been expecting. My brother’s associates always looked like they’d slept in their clothes. This guy was well groomed with his jet-black hair slicked back and his eyebrows precisely waxed.
He smelled like a double application of Bleu de Chanel cologne. I knew this because I’d received a sample in one of my recent shipments.
“Are you trying to wake the entire neighborhood?” he asked, and he wasn’t being merely sarcastic. He was pissed.
“Not really,” I said.
“Then what the hell are you doing?” His voice was raspy. The kind that suggested a two-pack-a-day habit.
He reached down, grabbed my arm—not nicely, I might add—and yanked me to my feet.
I winced in pain. “Trying to make this delivery on time and get my brother in the clear.”
He sneered, and his angry gaze dropped to my hands. “So, where’s the bag?”
“In my car.” I wrenched my arm free.
He glanced at the empty street behind me. “Where’s your car?”
“Parked out front. On Caspian.”
A slimy smile spread across his pockmarked face. “Then let’s go get it.”
We’d barely made it around the corner when I stopped dead in my tracks, and this was because the lights were on inside my car.
“No,” I whispered. That wasn’t how I’d left it. “No!”
I took off at a run, heading straight for my car with Bleu de Chanel Man hot on my heels.
I crossed the street, leaped onto the curb, and dashed up the sidewalk. Shattered glass littered the concrete. My passenger door hung open, and the gym bag… Oh, god.
The bag was gone.
I put my fingertips to my forehead and pressed hard. Now what? Think, think, think!
“Where’s the bag?” he asked, sounding about as desperate as I felt.
“I don’t know,” I cried. “It’s gone!”
“Who knew you were coming here?”
“No one. I swear. I didn’t tell anyone.”
“You stupid bitch!” He backhanded me across the face, and my whole body twisted away from the impact. My eye felt like it was going to explode.
Before I fell, he grabbed my shoulders and threw me up against the side of my car. Pain shot down my spine.
“It wasn’t supposed to disappear like this,” he growled, but it wasn’t a shifter’s growl. This guy was human. Didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous.
I closed my eyes—bracing for another hit or possibly even worse—but the man suddenly loosened his grip and yelled, “Fuck!”
My eyes popped open.
Sean stood beside me, his face like thunder.
The man took three steps back while reaching behind him for something tucked in his waistband.
“Sean?” I whimpered. I didn’t know how he found me, but he needed to get away from here. He needed to get far, far away.
Sean wrapped his hand around my wrist and squeezed.
The man pulled a gun and aimed it right at Sean.
“No!” I screamed.
The gun fired, and my body turned into dark liquid heat.