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Smart-ass. Yet, he was right. I didn’t read the rest.
“Just keeping the streets clean,” he said, and I almost chuckled. We do it for Lucca’s benefit.
“Got it.” I smirked, and my gaze roamed around the street. My attention shifted back to the house when the front door opened ajar. “I got to go, Vik. Stay safe,” I muttered, ended the call, and sat, waiting for someone to walk out the door. But, no one did.
I shuffled over my seat, ready to get out and check if this was a cry for help.
When my hand touched the door handle, a girl stepped out.
No, not a girl.
A young woman, and she couldn’t be much younger than me.
Her sleek shoulder-length black hair shifted slowly as she looked around the doorway. Her eyes were covered under a dark pair of sunglasses, and with her guarded body language I knew this was her. The girl whose life was at risk. But, she wasn’t a girl, nor a teen, and I chuckled at my own stupidity. How could I have believed someone as a child would have been left on their own with no inside supervision?
When she stepped out of the door casing, her body was fully clothed in yoga pants, and a matching jacket. She seemed ready for a run, but the pair of chucks that adorned her feet gave her away. Her feet slid forward, and her chest rose and fell with resignation when she took the first step down on the small covered patio. I watched as she kept her face trained on the last step.
I thought I would never get out of the car as I waited, but then she took that last step and followed the broken paved sidewalk path. I left my car and followed her from afar.
The chief mentioned she was aware she had protection, and I hoped it was the reason she constantly took in her surroundings once we were in a busier street with foot traffic.
Even in January, Miami's heat was still a bitch, and if she wanted to have a low profile, I wouldn’t have walked out with a jacket on. Her steps quickened the closer we got to a convenience store. I didn’t want to lose her, but the store was small enough that we would cross paths.
I took a chance and followed her inside.
She walked around the stuffy aisles, not wasting time with brands and grabbing the closest items she needed. Mostly, it was all canned and microwavable meals and hygiene products, like toothpaste and shampoo. Even if I wasn't on the same aisle as her, I could still see her in the corner mirror that hung above. When she headed to the cashier, I had already taken a left down the aisle, grabbed a sports drink, and waited until she was out the door before checking out.
Her long, slender legs gave her a bigger head-start than I would’ve liked when I spotted her back on the sidewalk. Four shopping bags hung from each hand. She shifted them for a better grip when her hands grew tired. Her strides were long, and with the fear of losing her, I picked up my speed.
We were now inching closer to her street, and just as expected, she took the right turn to her final destination. My footfalls slowed to create some distance as I approached the turn.
Yet, she was gone.
I could feel the way my lungs constricted with alarm, because I knew she didn’t have enough time to make it home yet.
My eyes roamed the street before me, searching for unfamiliar signs or cars as my feet sped to a light jog. As I passed the back-side entrance of the antique corner shop, my eyes flickered to the shadow on my left, and my hand automatically reached for my concealed gun behind my waistline.
But I stopped once its voice reached my ears, and my body slowly turned toward the shadow.
“Beckett or Novak?” Her voice wanted to sound strong, but all I heard was the uncertainty in her tone. My name had fallen from her parted lips with a question. But why risk her own safety?
The more I took her in, the more agitation crawled inside of me at the absurdity. There she stood in a small back entry of an old shop, back against a door that was most likely locked, trapped with no exit aside from the one I was blocking. With her sunglasses high on her head, fierce dark eyes shimmered with anxiety around her delicate features. Her cheekbones were pronounced slightly over the ordinary, keeping me guessing the reason behind such a thing. Was she eating? Was she sick? Did she need to visit a doctor?
I stayed quiet, taking her in. Her thick dark hair contrasted her fair skin around both sides of her face, hiding every inch it allowed until meeting her torso.
She shuffled one step back.
I was making her nervous, but just as I planned to ease her mind, her right hand caught my attention. It was just a small twitch, but enough to be noticed. Inside her thin fingers was a can of pepper spray. And that agitation no longer crawled over me, instead it snaked around my lungs, causing my breathing to uneven as my eyes blurred with outrage.
Was this her plan? Confront a perp with a can of pepper spray? Emptying the can would only provoke them and their need to stain their hands with her blood. To take her, and do things even she couldn’t fathom.
This was no child’s play.
And in this world, danger and death were no strangers to those who believed they could beat the odds of the dark underworld by foolish plays.
DAVINA
It was his icy blue eyes that first gave me faith I wasn’t wrong. The same light blue that had always calmed me, the only color I tried to find every day around my new life to keep my fears tucked inside. To keep me living, even if this way was no longer living. Yet as he lingered before me, trapping my only way out of this confinement, my heart rate sped while his eyes darkened. I tried to let my breath silently escape from my parted lips, trying not to move. Trying not to make any sudden movements as the unexpected was never welcomed. The memory of Nightmare’s knife slicing into my skin as punishment for moving caused my healing scar to scream, and my blood to boil, reminding me to stay calm. With each breath and second that passed by as his lips twisted with a sneer, I counted the beats of my heart by each time my scar pulsed.
