Chapter Eleven
Joanna
Relationships were limitations. But feelings?
Fucking death sentences.
And yet, after the high from destroying Marcus wore off, I cried the entire drive home.
Pathetic.
The complication between me and the werewolf was all types of fucked up. And as much as I warned myself to, I couldn’t stay away from him.
Then, there was Latoya. My sister abandoned me, but I still loved her. I trusted her as far as I could throw her, and my simp ass felt relieved that my hunter’s mark had given me the strength for some distance.
And finally, to top off all the ways I’d placed my head onto a chopping block, in a few days I planned to meet the leader of the werewolf uprising: the faceless monster that’d haunted my dreams for weeks.
I needed a distraction. And fuck jogging—because that worked out so well last time.
The tiny gym was a few miles from the train station downtown. It held fifteen people max, making it perfect for those who didn’t like crowds… or people like me, who wanted human interaction without the commitment.
Some hunters stressed the importance of non-hunter interaction.
They said we needed to be reminded of who we were fighting for.
Perhaps if I’d adhered to that mindset, I’d be a well-adjusted human being—with a friend list longer than a fifty-something-year-old white man who taught me the best ways to kill someone… Shit. Something.
But no, I was like most hunters. We avoided all attachments like the plague. Even our comrades were just that: fellow soldiers in our war against the monsters. Coworkers, associates. Rarely friends.
I fiddled with the zipper of my workout jacket, pressing it to my lips as I checked in at the front desk. As the zipper fell from my mouth, my eyes flicked to the framed poster of daily affirmations hanging on the wall.
I gave my head an amused shake.
There was a time in my life when I never missed an opportunity to look in the mirror and tell myself that I was capable. That I trusted myself… It became routine after my freak-out following my first kill.
I slung my duffle bag onto my shoulder and walked up to the poster. Most of the affirmations on the list were saved in a note on my phone that I hadn’t opened in years.
“I am more than my circumstances demand,” I read quietly to myself. Damn right. “I release the things that are achingly out of reach.” I frowned.
Best two out of three.
But a rich laugh cut through the gym’s silence, causing my eyes to freeze.
The sound waves traveled from my ears down to my stomach, where they swelled. My eyes bounced from one piece of gym equipment to another until I found the source.
My ex, Malik, stood by the punching bags, tying his locs back from his face. Sweat glued his black t-shirt to his stomach, outlining every dip of his abs. His long track-star legs looked powerful in his basketball shorts. And his stupid, beautiful smile made my skin itch.
I pulled down the brim of my cap. Fuck.
As I spun on my heels, I threw my gaze to the floor, hoping he wouldn’t notice me. He would never know that I was essentially running from him. At least, that’s what I told myself as I took three quick steps toward the front door.
“Did you forget something, Joey?”
Well, damn.
I turned, forcing my expression to remain neutral.
Malik’s jog came to a halt when he was close enough to get slapped if he deserved it. He crossed one arm over his toned chest, tucking his hand under his elbow. He stroked his short goatee with his other hand, the cloy smile on his pretty tawny-brown face making me want to rip his lips off.
“I wasn’t sure if I’d locked my car,” I answered.
He chuckled. “You did. Not sure about when you first got out, but you gave the key fob its regular one-for-good-luck press at the front door.”
I frowned, the sudden exposure unsettling. “How would you know that?”
“Bikes first, right?” he asked, ignoring my question.
“I was going to spar with my friends, but you’d make better company.
Nicer to look at, anyway.” Malik’s words rang in my ears like a broken bell.
I peered over his shoulder, my eyes widening as they landed on the two giants waiting for him by the punching bags.
Viper and Tobias gave lackluster dips of their heads in greeting.
My gaze flicked between the three of them, my mind reeling. But instead of exposing myself further, I adjusted my gym bag on my shoulder and walked to the nearest bike.
Malik waited, giving a smile to an older Black lady as crossed in front of him, before he ran up to the Bureau brutes. He said a few quick words to them and rushed back to me just as I’d sat on the seat.
I adjusted the tension on the bike and began my workout, keeping my gaze down as Malik took a seat on the bike next to mine. “Since when do you have friends?” I mumbled.
“Are you jealous?” he teased. At my silence, he continued, “I’ve known Tobias and Viper for a minute.”
“Do you know who they work for?” My tone was sharp, a lot colder than I’d intended.
Malik finally lowered to the handlebars. “If you knew them, you’d know they couldn’t hide that shit for long.” Even though I dared not look, I heard the chuckle in his voice over the whirl of our bikes.
“Did they target you?” I asked quietly.
“No, believe it or not. They just really like working out. They were usually leaving when I was coming in, or vice versa.” In my peripheral vision, I watched him increase the tension on his bike. “One thing led to another, and here we are.”
I pulled my jacket’s zipper to my collarbone, its collar suddenly too tight. My gaze drifted away from the LCD screen.
Malik sat up wiping sweat from his nose with the bottom of his shirt, like we were really two people merely working out together. The bastard was probably taunting me with how good he still looked.
As I stopped pedaling, I released my clenched jaw and peeled my fists from around the handlebars, allowing blood to flow back in my fingers. “Are you the one who told the Bureau what happened at the warehouse?”
He studied the number of calories he burned, his eyes glued to the little monitor between his hands, but he nodded in time with his pedaling. “Sure did.”
His answer made me grimace. “Why?”
Malik pushed off the handlebars, his head whipping to face me.
“Because this shit is getting out of hand.” He glanced around and waited for the two young men walking behind us to get out of earshot before continuing.
“A werewolf uprising,” he stressed, venom lacing his whisper.
“Are you fucking kidding me? We need all the help we can get.”
My face grew hot. I crossed my arms. “Does James know your friends snatched us off the street because you couldn’t keep your mouth shut?” I fired back.
“The same way we shook hands with monsters because you couldn’t keep your legs closed?”
My muscles tensed, but I rolled my shoulders, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath.
This asshole was not about to make me lose my gym membership today.
He went on briskly, “Yes, James and I had a conversation. He wasn’t thrilled, but he understands why I did it.”
I couldn’t explain the crushing weight on my chest.
I’d been calling the old man for two days, and he wouldn’t pick up. But he’d text me minutes later with some unoriginal message like: Hey, kid. What’s up?
He was that upset. But I took the high road. I apologized for avoiding him. Thanked him for his discretion.
Not exposing my sister meant he’d given me grace while I figured out what the hell to do with her—and it worked to our advantage.
We had a way into Silas’s party. That would’ve been impossible without Latoya.
We were going to get the list of names. Dismantle Silas’s plans from the inside.
Then Latoya would receive clemency. From whom?
The shady friends of the man I used to fuck?
The man I currently fuck, but have no business fucking?
How reliable was our Trojan horse, anyway?
I pulled my zipper down, while Malik’s smirk pierced the brain fog.
“Do I still make you hot and bothered, Joey?”
Fuck him. Marcus and I could be walking into an ambush. And Malik was here cracking jokes. Always cracking jokes. When my sister could abandon me. Again.
Each inhale was a punch to the throat.
If I blew my cover at Silas’s party, maybe I wouldn’t have to decide what to do with Latoya after all. Because I’d be dead.
The air was stale and so thick I could choke on it. I felt nauseated. I reached for the bottle of water in my duffel bag.
Maybe Latoya would fight for me. But would the werewolves spare Marcus? Or would they make an example of him?
For fuck’s sake, I needed an open window. My water tasted like dirt, but I swallowed and repressed the retch threatening to empty my stomach.
Malik’s smile wavered. His hand darted to my back. “What’s wrong?”
Besides the fact that he and James thought I was a whore?
“Stop doing that.” I shrugged his hand off me.
“You look like you’re about to pass out, Joey.”
“Stop acting like we’re friends.” I tried to remove my jacket but still needed a second to catch my breath. “It’s too fucking hot in here.”
To my surprise, Malik reached over to help me… and I let him. The mockery had vanished from his face. His powerful hands were patient and gentle when I needed a moment to stop the room from swaying.
With my jacket off, goosebumps prickled my flesh. I ran my hands down my biceps and blew out a heavy breath. “Thank you,” I muttered stubbornly.
Malik studied the newest scar running down my shoulder: the one I’d gotten from Leo. His brows drew together. “That’s from saving the wolf in the Blackwood Pack?” he asked.
I nodded with a weary sigh, waiting for Malik to spit out an insult or an aggravating joke.
Instead, he blinked, his gaze leaving my shoulder, his eyes now locked with mine. “Is it dead…? The beast that attacked you?”
I nodded again, fixing the cap on my head. “The werewolf who’s keeping my legs open took care of him.”