Page 20 of North’s Claim

“Because,” I snap, “if someone breaks into the hood, they aim for the windows first. It’s not about you running, it's about keeping your head from being the first thing blown off.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it again with a frown.

“I’ve been sleeping near a door that didn’t lock for a year,” she mutters. “Windows don’t scare me.”

I step closer. “They should.”

She huffs. “You’re bossy as hell, you know that?”

“Yup.” I walk to the other side of the bed. “Get used to it.”

She grumbles something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like asshole.

I smirk, not even hiding it. “That sass gonna keep you warm tonight?”

She flops onto the bed, tugging the blanket over herself. “Warmer than the damn floor.”

I shake my head, crawling under the covers. “You’re stubborn.”

“Not stubborn. Just not used to someone barking orders without swinging a fist after.”

That sobers me.

For a second, we’re both quiet.

Chapter 8

Nyxa

Iwake up alone.

The quiet is unreal. Not just the lack of yelling or heavy boots or a door slamming shut, but actual, pure silence. The kind that makes your breath feel too loud.

I sit up slowly, like I’m afraid to break the moment.

The sheets still smell like him. Padding into the kitchen barefoot, I pause when I see a note on the counter. My name isn’t on it, but I know it’s for me.

Vero will come up around 10 a.m. and she’ll take you out. Rook and DJ will come with. Go shopping for whatever you need.

That’s your card, pin code 4609.

You have my number saved in your cell phone.

I’ll be out all day. If you need me, call.

—N

Next to it is a mauve wallet, soft leather, delicate stitching. So pretty and feminine. I run my fingers across it like it might vanish.

Myka would’ve laughed at something like this. Called it useless. Weak.

I glance around the room, half-expecting someone to jump out and say it’s a joke but it’s not. I open the wallet. My ID stares back at me. So does my driver’s license and three hundred bucks in cash. I drop it like it burned me.

How?

Myka burned my documents. I watched him do it. Drunk, slurring, saying I didn’t need a past if I was gonna be with him forever.

There’s a folder next to the wallet. I open it with shaking hands. Birth certificate, school transcripts, dance awards and medical records.