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The guy with the gasoline went into the shop and returned empty-handed with his bat-wielding colleague beside him. I knew what was going to happen, and I knew I couldn’t stop it without risking everything, but I couldn’t will myself to look away.
The apparent leader pulled a lighter from his pocket. “Let this be a warning to anybody who decides to cross the Steel Knights,” he announced to the street at large. “We’re the kings of this territory now. Everything here is ours.”
With that, he flicked on the lighter and threw it through the store window. A terrible orange light spilled out, flames lashing at the frame and roaring higher inside. The owner, crouched on the pavement outside, started to sob.
The Steel Knights took turns kicking him. “Next time we ask you to pay up, you’d better have it ready or else.”
After a few more jabs, they got back into their car and drove away. The sound of a fire engine’s siren wailed in the distance. I knelt by the wall, trying to regain my breath as rage expanded inside my ribs until it felt like a splintering force.
My family hadn’t even got a proper burial yet, and Colt’s people were rampaging through my home, tearing it to shreds.
When I’d managed to calm the fury inside me enough, I walked across the street to where the fire was still raging. The man was weeping, beating his closed fist against the pavement. I crouched down next to him and took out a wad of money, most of what I had left from selling my engagement ring.
I’d bought everything I could use for now. He needed it a hell of a lot more than I did.
“Here,” I said. “Take this.”
He looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. He might have recognized me—Dad had made me a semi-public figure, dressing me up and dragging me to events. Showing off the daughter he sneered at in private.
“I’m going to make this right,” I promised. The man nodded, but I couldn’t tell if he believed me.
There was nothing else I could do but walk away. But I wasn’t leaving it behind, not really.
The farther I went, the more evidence I saw of the Steel Knights claiming this territory. Fresh graffiti marked the walls. More guys with the knight emblem bandanas prowled the streets. There were plenty of people who’d pledged loyalty to my father still alive around here, but apparently no one was willing to push back without a leader.
I guessed I couldn’t totally blame them. I’d gone running for help—they hadn’t had the same option.
By the time I reached my intended destination, an old brownstone building in the warehouse district with a crooked banner that announced its name was Rookers, my stomach was churning with even more anger than before.
I entered the dimly lit room to the smell of old whiskey and smoke. The place was fairly crowded even though it was early in the evening. A few guys circled around a table were playing poker with chips, and others were occupied at the snooker table placed to the side. Twangy country music played over the speakers.
I walked up to the bartender, an old man who was cleaning the glasses. He didn’t look like he was interested in serving anybody, but I took a place on one of the empty bar stools anyway. A guy sitting a few places down swirled a glass of amber liquid in his hand.
“What do you want to drink?” the bartender snapped.
So much for customer service. I considered the cash I still had on me, which wasn’t much. But I definitely wouldn’t make any friends here if I didn’t cough up a little dough as a paying customer. “Gin and tonic. Strong.” I needed it to drown out my fury over everything I’d witnessed outside.
A few moments later, he passed me a glass. I drank it slowly, letting the burn of the alcohol seep through my body. My other hand dropped to the pocket of my jeans, where my fingers traced the outline of my childhood bracelet.
Little Angel. Was that how my mother had seen me? I sure as hell wasn’t an angel now, and that was a good thing. Bitches got things done. Angels… Maybe they ended up like her, either run out of town for fear of her life or buried in a grave somewhere.
Dad had never given me a straight answer about where she’d gone when she’d disappeared, but even at six, I’d been able to tell he was upset that she hadn’t given him another kid. The boy he wanted that he’d never gotten.
Considering how many women he’d tried with, that’d obviously beenhisfault. Not that he’d ever have admitted it.
When I’d almost finished my drink, I tossed out a casual remark. “Say, I heard Titus used to stop by here now and then. Have you seen him lately?”
The bartender frowned. “Who?”
“A big guy,” I said. “Reallybig. Some people called him the Titan. I wanted to talk to him about something.”
The man grimaced. “From what I’ve heard, he’s dead, girl. A pretty thing like you doesn’t want to mess with that business.”
“Oh my God.” I pretended to be shocked. “How did he die?”
The man farther down the bar glanced over at me. Uneasiness made the back of my neck prickle. I turned my head so my hood would shield more of my face from his nosiness.
“From what I heard, he got drunk and took a fall,” the bartender said. I guessed that was the story Ezra Noble preferred to have spreading around rather than that someone within the gang had murdered one of his top guys.
