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“He got his ass beat, yes. I didn’t fucking kill him!”
“And you think I did?”
Vance pushed both hands through his hair, his hands stilling on top of his head as he stared at me. “You don’t know, do you?”
His question unsettled me. How did he know I had no clear recollection of what my wolf had done? For the first time since deciding on this plan, I felt uncertain. “No idea about what?” I asked him as I took a step back.
“Your face has been on every news channel in the country. You’re either missing or dead.”
What?
“What?” I gave a fake laugh. “That’s impossible. No one is missing me.”
Vance poured himself another drink. “Yeah, you want to tell the old woman who keeps pleading for her Zia to come home?”
“What old wo?—”
Shit. Lottie?
“Yeah, that would be her.” Vance drank his liquor and put the glass down. “So…Zia, tell me why the fuck you’re here, what you did to Bullet, and did you tell anyone you were coming here?”
“I…” I swallowed. Dammit, how did I get out of this? “Am I missing or wanted for murder?” I asked instead.
“Missing.” Vance looked at the bottle, and then after a brief hesitation, he poured another drink. “And wanted for questioning regarding the murder of John Quib, Samuel Tenant, and Wayne Lovie.”
“Who are they?”
“Bullet, SamT, and Lovie the Loser.”
My hands were fists in my pockets, a fact that Vance noticed, his eyes narrowing as he looked me over. “You were stealing clothes again?”
“Kind of.”
“Why are you here, kid? I’ve finally paid off the cops to stop sniffing up my ass, asking questions about you.”
“I need money. I thought I could do a couple of rounds in the ring.” Rocking back on my heel, I gave him a wry smile. “I’ve been lying low. Bullet shot me,” I told him. “Three times.” Vance’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. “I got away. They were going to do a lot more than shoot me,” I added quietly.
“Did you kill him?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
Vance shook his head. “You got to get better at lying,” he muttered. He watched me for a long time. “I can’t put you in a ring, kid. Even with your hair colored like that, you’re recognizable.”
“I get it,” I told him as I walked to the door. “I didn’t know about all the…stuff. I wouldn’t have come.”
“You eaten?”
Pausing at his door, I shook my head.
“Pizza?”
“Why?” I asked cautiously. “You don’t need me here.”
“Maybe I feel guilty,” Vance told me as he stared at the countertop. “Maybe if I hadn’t let Bullet walk, he wouldn’t have come after you.”
“Maybe is a game people like us should never play,” I told him quietly. “I’ll skip pizza,” I said. When he looked up, I lifted a foot. “You got any sneakers? These boots are killing my feet.”
“Does this place look like a retail unit?” Vance asked with a small smile.
