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Dead bodies were following her around.
Mia fought the insane urge to laugh. It wasn’t funny, of course. Her next-door neighbor was dead. Very dead. Bullet in the head not gonna come back from this dead. Blood pooled under her body; her eyes stared lifelessly ahead. Mia stood frozen, staring down at Angel.
Move, Mia. It’s not safe.
Trembles rocked her body. Her breath came in sharp pants. This felt like it was happening to someone else. Her body might be reacting, but on the inside Mia felt numb. Almost detached.
That was bad, right? She should feel something, shouldn’t she? Horror? Fear? Sadness?
Run, Mia.
Okay, so admittedly, Angel was a pretty crappy person. She played her music too loud late at night. She had people visiting her at all hours. Mia wasn’t certain if she was a prostitute or she just really, really liked sex. With lots of different men. But the things she’d heard through the thin walls of her apartment at night were enough to leave her blushing.
She’d also suspected Angel had been coming into her apartment and stealing stuff. Not that she could ever prove it. There was never any sign of a break-in.
Well, she’d been unable to prove it until now, since Angel was wearing Mia’s bright yellow raincoat. She also had a hole in her forehead that Mia was pretty sure was supposed to be hers as well.
A bubble of laughter escaped. Aware of the note of hysteria, she forced her lips closed.
Angel had stolen her bullet. She was lying in the alley that ran along the side of their apartment building, dressed in Mia’s favorite rain jacket, with Mia’s bullet in her brain.
What wasn’t there to laugh about, really?
Only everything. None of it was funny. It was terrifying and completely unfair. She’d always been a good girl. Worked hard. Paid her taxes. She’d never run a prostitution business out of her apartment.
And someone was trying to kill her.
She ran a shaky hand over her face. The numbness was fading. It wasn’t safe. She needed to move. What if he was still around?
“If he was still here, you’d be dead,” she muttered to herself. Had he checked to see whether he’d murdered the right girl? Maybe he thought she was dead. It was wrong to find hope in this situation, right? It was wrong to hope that Angel’s death meant she was safe. At least for a while.
She sucked in a shaky breath and spots danced in front of her face.
Remember to breathe.
Her location had been compromised. He’d found her.
“I really loved that jacket.”
Focusing on the wrong thing here, Mia. Get your ass gone.
Soon someone else was going to come across Angel’s body. And if she was there, it wasn’t going to go well. They’d probably wonder why she was just standing there, not reacting, not calling the cops, not doing anything.
Not her first rodeo. Not her first dead body.
She forced herself to turn away. She wouldn’t go back to her apartment; she wasn’t that dumb. Instead, she turned and walked out onto the sidewalk, moving away from the building where she’d lived for the last three months, leaving everything behind except her handbag and the clothes she was wearing.
“I need a favor.”
Alec Malone didn’t bother looking away from the invoices strewn across his desk. How the fuck had Tanner and Raid destroyed a thousand dollars’ worth of stuff at some trashy bar?
“What the hell were they doing in a place called Titties and Totems?” he muttered to himself.
“I’m sure I have no idea,” his cousin drawled. “Doesn’t sound like a place I’d want to visit.”
Alec looked over at his cousin, who was sprawled in the chair across his desk, dressed in a three-piece suit. He looked as impeccable as always. Not a hair out of place. There was a knowing smirk on his face.
Alec snorted. “That’s because you’re a New Orleans Malone. The rest of us aren’t fussy about where we have a drink.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing to have standards.” Jardin stood and leaned over Alec’s desk, looking down at the invoice. “At least my brothers aren’t racking up thousand-dollar bills in a place that sounds like it would make Hooters look classy. What did they do? Trash the place?”
Knowing Tanner and Raid, most likely.
“And this is why I’m going gray.”
Jardin snorted. “So don’t pay it.”
“If I don’t pay it, things escalate. P
eople turn up here, demanding shit from me. I don’t like when people do that,” he said with a pointed look at his cousin.
Jardin just rolled his eyes. “I’m not people. I’m family.”
