I press my back to the dumpster, Waffles cradled tighter against me. Nothing can protect me from what’s coming.
“Rowan…” I whisper. “Please.”
“Careful,” he says, eyes narrowing. “You’re bleeding all over city property.”
He takes a step forward, slow and deliberate. The final piece slides into place.
This isn’t surprise.
It’s not even curiosity.
This is strategy. He’s been following me. Waiting.
For what? A mistake? A misstep? An opportunity?
No. For this.
Because Rowan doesn’t do favors.
He collects debts.
“You’ve been watching me,” I say quietly.
His silence confirms everything.
The boy I once knew is long gone. Replaced by the man in front of me who is emotionally bulletproof, and has a memory that never forgets.
“I’m not going to the cops,” he says.
I blink. “You’re not?”
“No.”
I exhale, but it catches halfway through.
Because his eyes haven’t softened.
Ah, now I understand.
I was never going to get away with this. Not really.
“I have something far more effective than a police report,” he says, voice soft and cruel. “I have you.”
Fuck.
He’s not here because I broke the law.
He’s here because I broke him.
And now, he’s going to collect.
Chapter Two
Rowan
“How much is my silence worth to you, Whitmore?”
She doesn’t answer. Her mouth parts, but nothing comes out, just a sharp inhale and that wide-eyed panic she always gets when the world corners her.
