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Jasper leans in close, his skeletal jaw clenched.
“When things look grim … be the grim reaper.”
My guts go cold, wondering if he means what I think he means.
We’re interrupted by my new partner.
“Better get going,” Yuri smiles. “It’s time for the pick-up.”
I stare at him blankly. In all the madness, I forgot we had a shipment coming in. One we desperately need after Sabrina robbed the last one.
“I’m on it,” I say.
“We can drive together,” Yuri replies. “I’m coming, too.”
* * *
45
SABRINA
When I wake in the hospital, there’s a man sitting next to my bed. I startle so badly that I almost tear out my IV line, before realizing it’s my father.
He’s sitting bent over, shoulders hunched, face exhausted. I’ve never seen such dark shadows under his eyes, or the lines on his face so deep.
“Jesus, Dad,” I croak. “You look worse than me.”
“I seriously doubt it.”
He’s probably right. My right arm is bandaged from shoulder to elbow, three of the fingers splinted and taped. The left side of my face throbs with every heartbeat. My words come out mushy through cracked and swollen lips. I reek of blood and smoke and propane.
I only have to look in my dad’s eyes to see that I’m a fucking mess. So destroyed that it hurts him.
I was his baby girl once. I sat on his lap and smooshed his cheeks with my hands and made him laugh.
It was so easy to make him happy then. So easy to be what he wanted me to be.
Now all I do is cause him pain.
Never one to mince words, my father gets right to the point: “The High Table has put a bounty on your head.”
“How much?” I say. “I don’t like to think I come cheap.”
His jaw shifts, anger flashing in his eyes. He’s never appreciated my comedic timing.
“If I can find you, they can find you,” he hisses. “We need to leave. Now.”
“I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t think you’re gonna be able to carry me out of here.”
“Why?”he cries, his voice anguished.
“I haven’t seen it through to the end. I’m not coming home until I do.”
“The end is your death. You’re never coming home.”
I shrug, even that small motion ripping at my side. I think my ribs are broken.
“I’m sorry, Dad. I really am. But you’re the one person who can understand—it’s not over until I’m satisfied.”
