PROLOGUE
Standingoutside Chief’s office with my hand raised to knock, I hesitate.
Am I really going to do this?
I drop my hand. I know it’s time, but damn it’s really freaking hard.
I blow out a breath. Shit.
My fingers drift to my throat before I can stop them. There’s not a single mark anymore. The bruises faded weeks ago, purple to yellow to nothing. But I still feel it sometimes. Still feel Killer’sfingers digging in. How I couldn’t breathe. The utter terror that he might actually kill me.
Stop thinking about it.
I shake out my hands and raise my fist again.
Bam. Bam. Bam.
“Yeah?” Chief’s voice booms through the door.
Pushing it open, I peek my head inside.
Chief’s behind his desk, paperwork spread out in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose. He looks up, and his dark eyebrows pull together in a frown.
“What?” He drops the papers in his hand onto the desk.
“I—”
He raises a hand to stop me, and my mouth snaps shut. “If this is more bullshit about shoes, I don’t want to fucking hear it.”
A surprised laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. “What?”
“Shoes.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Bambi came in here an hour ago having a complete meltdown because someone took her shoes. Do I look like a man who gives the first fuck about bitch’s fucking shoes?”
I open my mouth again, and again his hand goes up.
“I fucking ain’t, so if this is more of that bullshit, I don’t have time for it today. Or ever.”
I step fully into the office and close the door behind me. “Uh, no. I’m not here about shoes or whatever.” I wave my hand out in front of me.
“Thank fuck,” he mutters under his breath as he leans back in his chair. “So what the fuck can I do for you, Pinky?”
The way he says it isn’t mean, just matter-of-fact. This is just who Chief is. Direct, no bullshit.
Oh he’s scary as hell for sure when he needs to be, but he’s also fair. And I’ve always felt safe around him.
I twist my fingers together in front of me, suddenly not sure how to start. I practiced this in my head a dozen times, but now that I’m standing here, the words feel stuck.
“I, um…” I clear my throat. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”
Chief’s brow goes up, but he doesn’t say anything. He waits me out like he always does.
“I’m leaving the club.” The words come out in a rush, tumbling over each other. “Not like, right this second or anything. But soon. I just… I can’t stay here anymore.”
There. I said it.
The silence stretches out between us as Chief studies me, his eyes sharp behind those reading glasses. He tilts his head slightly.
“This about what happened with Killer?”
