TWENTY SIX
S he knew it was a long shot, but she still stopped in front of the alley, hoping to find Reaper so that she could question him. But he wasn’t there. Nor was the drunk he had killed. She knew not to overthink it. The Mafia had a way of finding out about things like this and handling it discreetly.
Pulling out her phone, she tried to call Gavin’s cell again, the light blinding in the darkened alley. But once again, she was answered by his voicemail.
“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath and decided to check out his Jeep.
Hopefully, there was some clue as to where she could find him. Leaving her bike, she walked down the deserted street. She shook off the feeling of being watched as she closed in on the vehicle. Her heart pounded in her chest as she approached Gavin’s Jeep, the darkness of the street enveloping her. She ignored the chill that crept up her spine, focusing instead on the task at hand.
As she neared the vehicle, her breath caught in her throat at the sight before her. The Jeep rocked ominously on its axle. Without hesitation, she rushed to it, her hands trembling as she tried to peer through the tinted windows, but she couldn’t see anything inside.
With a sharp exhale, she moved to the rear door and pulled at the handle, desperation clawing at her chest. The door creaked open, but no more than an inch. Something was preventing it from opening. Hurrying to the passenger side, she yanked the door open, revealing Gavin bound and gagged in the back seat.
A surge of panic coursed through her veins as she took in his helpless form. His hands, handcuffed to the door handle, was why the door wouldn’t open. His left eye sported hues of black and purple and was completely swollen shut. Without a second thought, she climbed over him, her mind racing.
With trembling hands, she reached for him, her fingers fumbling with the knots of the gag. Her heart pounded in her chest as she worked frantically, her ragged breaths filling the air.
Finally, with a gasp of relief, she managed to remove the gag. Gavin slumped forward, his good eye wide with shock and gratitude.
“Minke, thank God you’re here,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with emotion.
She offered him a reassuring smile, though her own nerves were still on edge.
“We need to get out of here,” she urged, scanning the street for any sign of danger. “How the fuck are we going to remove those cuffs?”
“There’s a spare set of keys in the glove compartment,” Gavin answered, nodding toward the front of the Jeep.
Scrambling out of the confined back seat, she stumbled to the passenger side, kneeled on the front seat, and opened the glove compartment.
“Minke, wait.”
She didn’t. Driven by the fear that Reaper could return, she reached in, her fingers folding around cold metal.
“Let me explain,” Gavin pleaded, struggling against his restraints.
Poison stared at the police badge in her hand. Shit, shit, shit. This was all such a colossal fuckup. She got a cop involved.
“You’re a cop?” she demanded, spinning in her seat to look for some explanation in his face—some other excuse as to why he had a badge in his car.
“Like I said. I can explain,” he mumbled, pulling at the cuffs again. “First, get me out of here, please?”
Her head spun, and the voices tasted like acid in the back of her throat. She stuffed the keys in his one hand and got out of the car.
“I need to go,” she whispered, dread filling her lungs. “Please forget you ever met me.”
Walking away, tears stung her eyes, threatening to spill. Her life had always been screwed up, but this was a whole new level of fucked up. Reaper appeared after ten years of radio silence, and she had the chance to get her revenge. She could taste it, had it within her reach, but had to prioritize her responsibilities.
Scorpion wanted her dead. She had been mad to think that the universe would finally allow her to find someone for whom she could have feelings, and somehow, to top it all off, she got a cop in the middle of everything. She was sure that Gavin didn’t know anything, but after tonight, he will be asking unwanted questions.
Every step became a battle, her ragged breathing a war cry against her own emotions. The voices grew louder with each step, threatening to consume her. The weight of everything bore down on her, ready to crush her beneath its brutality.
Just as the emotions threatened to smother her, she was vaguely aware of a car door slamming somewhere behind her, followed by the sound of running footsteps echoing through the empty street. Before she could comprehend what was happening, Gavin’s grip closed around her wrist, pulling her out of the suffocating darkness.
She turned, and her eyes darted between the contact and the blue of Gavin’s good eye, almost silver in the faint glow of a streetlamp.
“Please let me go,” she pleaded, but didn’t pull her hand away—she didn’t have the energy to. “And please, forget you ever met me, for everyone’s sake.”
“Minke,” His voice was soft, concerned. “Who are you?”
“I’m no one,” she whispered, freeing her hand.
“Minke,” he said, forcing her to look at him. His face was earnest, his eyes full of worry. “I’ve never seen anyone react like you just did when you found out I’m a police officer.”
She shook her head. “I take it you’re new to the city?”
“What gave it away?”
“You’d be arresting me if it weren’t the case.” Emotions made her voice shake, and she had to take a deep breath to calm her nerves.
That question mark returned between his brows as he looked into the distance.
“The guy that attacked me,” he finally said, looking back at her. “That was because of you?”
“I never meant to get anyone involved in my mess—especially not a cop. I’m sorry you got hurt in the process. Now, please. Walk away and forget about tonight.”
“Minke,” he pleaded. “I can help you, but only if you tell me what is going on.”
“You can’t help me.” She shook her head. “No one can.”
“Come to the station, and we’ll—”
“No!” she blurted. “No station and no cops. I cannot involve you even more than you already are. Go home, Gavin. Pretend tonight never happened.”
“You know I can’t let this go. It’s my job. That guy attacked a cop. He needs to be behind bars.”
“Gavin,” Her throat tightened, and she stepped back. “There are people way more dangerous than the one who attacked you. If you go digging, they won’t be happy.”
“Who are they?”
“Would you just listen to me?” she begged, frantically trying to figure out a way to convince him. “If you want to continue being a cop in this fucked up city, you’ll go about your life as if nothing happened here tonight.”
“Tell me how I can help,” he pleaded, stepping toward her, but she shook her head.
“You can help by staying out of it,” she mumbled, turning on her heel.
She sprinted to her bike, not daring to look behind
her until she reached it and revved the engine to life. Turning on her front wheel, she pulled the throttle and sped away, the tires screeching in the darkness before dawn.
Her mind racing, she matched it with the speed of her bike, her breathing shallow. Fear gripped her chest: fear and pure soul-burning rage. She aimed for Scorpion’s factory, needing this to end once and for all. But she knew she shouldn’t. She was far too emotional to think straight. Her emotions would only get her killed. Anger won the fight against fear, smothering her until she couldn’t breathe or think.
A scream ripped from her lungs as she brought the machine to a dead stop, the rear wheel breaking contact with the tarmac. She screamed until the voices were quiet. She screamed until the pressure on her chest subsided and her mind cleared—her breathing returning to normal.
Headlights casting her shadow over the road pulled her back to her senses, and she took off again, changing direction. She headed for her territory. There was a lot of cleaning up and explaining she had to do.
She took a second turn, and a moment later, the headlights fell across her back again. Unease took hold of her, and she sped up, making an unnecessary turn in case she was being followed. But the moment she accelerated, so did the vehicle behind her. She was barely around the corner when the headlights found her again. Glancing over her shoulder, the glare blinded her enough to cause
her bike to swerve across the asphalt, and she fought to regain control of the machine.
With a racing heart, she managed to steer straight and made another turn, pushing her bike as hard as it would allow her. Another turn, and another, and another. Until she was sure she had lost her tail.
With a last glance over her shoulder, she sighed with relief to see no headlights approaching. Slowing down, she veered onto a side street and had to pull on the brakes before she hit a vehicle parked right in the middle of the road.
With the tips of her shoes on the asphalt, she pushed her bike up to the driver’s side window, banging her fist against the tinted glass. The glass lowered only about a third as one-and-a-half crystal blue eyes appeared. She shook her head, suppressing a smile.
“Yeah?” Gavin asked softly. Even his forehead was tinted in a faint hue of red.
“You’re lost, aren’t you?”
“No,” He cleared his throat. “No, I’m just admiring the view. That’s all.”
She studied the rundown buildings surrounding them and turned back to him with a raised eyebrow.
“Uh-huh,” she grunted. “I’m sure you find it fascinating.”
“My phone died,” he announced, lowering his window all the way, his chin dipping ever so slightly.
“Why were you following me?” she demanded,
crossing her arms.
“I want to help,” he answered without hesitation, looking up at her with those pleading puppy eyes. “And whether you like it or not, I’m part of whatever this is from now on. So either let me help, or I will find a way to help.”
Her heart ached. The conviction in his eyes was too much, so she looked away, only to immediately look back at him with an idea.
“Follow me,” she said, adjusting her position on the seat. “If you want to help, we’d appreciate your assistance.”
His face lit up with childlike excitement. “Really?” he beamed.
“Yes,” She smiled at him. “If you’re up for it.”
“I am,” he answered, barely allowing her to finish her sentence.
“Just follow me.”