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Him.
The man who'd managed to slither into my day like a bad omen. He was a shadow darting through a sea of minivans and SUVs. My eyes narrowed as he made his beeline for the public toilets.
"Shit." I shoved the door open and the chill of the rain assaulted my skin immediately. "Not on my watch, fuck face." I tasted the storm in the air—metallic and sharp.
I watched him slip around the corner, out of view. Of course. Because why make my life easy?
The rain was like a never-ending attack as I ran each drop a hammer pounding against any determination I had left. I raced around the corner, my boots slipping on the slick pavement.
There he was—er, there he wasn't.
Sprawled on the sidewalk like yesterday's news, the man lay motionless, his chest barely moving. And just a few feet away was the little girl, her sobs cutting through the drone of the downpour.
"Hey," I called out, my voice rougher than I’d meant as I knelt beside him. "Can you hear me?" My fingers searched for a pulse and found its weak thrum beneath the cold skin. Alive. Barely.
I didn’t know if I was pumped or pissed.
The little girl's cries intensified and her small frame quivered like a leaf. "It's okay, sweetheart," I lied smoothly, my eyes never leaving the man's pale face. "You're safe now. My name's Averill. I'm—" but before I could finish, a flicker of movement caught my eye.
"Police! Stop right there!" The words tore from my throat as reflex, but the hooded figure didn't hesitate.
He darted away like a shadow and disappeared into the increasing downpour in a split second.
"Damn it!" I swore under my breath. Three years on the force before I went PI and still, some habits died hard. I glanced over my shoulder at the unconscious man as the little girl's mom ran up to her, a crying mess.
"Hey. HEY!" I snapped my fingers in front of the distraught mom's face and gestured toward the comatose asshole on the ground. "If he so much as farts in his sleep you kick him in the balls as hard as you can, got it? The police are on their way."
Just then, my partner Kylo's cruiser swerved into view like he'd been summoned, the lights flashing a silent alarm through the rain.
"Kylo!" I barked, as he jumped out of the car, his brown hair plastered to his forehead. "Call it in. We need an ambulance for this guy." I shoved the toe of my boot into the side of the crumpled form on the sidewalk without pausing. My gaze locked on to the shrinking figure of the hooded man.
"Shit, Averill, what the hell happened here?" Kylo's voice was laced with concern and his eyes darted between me and the unconscious man.
"Later," I snapped, already backing away. "Just watch him. And the kid."
"Where are you going?" Kylo called after me, but I was already in my unmarked car, the door slamming shut with a sound lost to the storm.
"Chasing a goddamn rabbit down its hole," I muttered and the engine roared to life.
I threw the gear into drive, one hand gripping the wheel, the other wiping the streaks of water from my face. My fingers tingled with the cold and something else—anticipation, maybe, or just the raw edge of rage.
"Stay safe, Averill," Kylo's voice crackled over the radio, a failed attempt at restraint.
"Safe's for pussies and priests," I shot back and the corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk. The tires squealed their protest as I floored the accelerator, chasing the mystery wrapped in a hoodie.
Raindrops pelted the windshield like tiny fists, blurring the world into a wash of color and light.
"Come on, come on," I urged, leaning forward like it would somehow make the car move faster, to shrink the distance between us.
My heart thrummed with a rhythm that felt like a countdown. I knew the stakes were high; they always were when you were playing with time. And whoever this guy was, he held a piece of my past—a piece I was hell-bent on retrieving.
"Bet you thought you were clever, leaving your cryptic little gifts," I growled, my knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Let's see how smart you feel now."
Each block passed in a blur, each turn a calculated risk. I was a hunter, and the city was my jungle—cruel, unforgiving, and utterly exhilarating.
"Fuck," I breathed out as I lost sight of him for a second, my instincts screaming at me to keep going. To not give up. "Time might be on your side, buddy, but karma's on mine. And she's a bitch with a long memory."
The narrow alleyway loomed ahead, a jagged tear in the fabric of the city too tight for the car. I slammed on the brakes, the screech of tires barely audible over my racing pulse. "You've got to be shitting me," I grumbled and killed the engine as I flung myself out into the downpour. My boots hit the wet pavement with a satisfying smack as I bolted after him.
