Prologue
“Did you get him, Amanda?” Dean leans into my personal space to get a better view of my phone.
Both of us watch the red and yellow ball on my screen bounce twice and break apart. I sigh in defeat.
“That was my last try.” The high-level dragon I’ve been trying to catch flies off my screen. “Dammit. That was my fourth time.”
I can’t keep chasing this damn cartoon animal around the city. San Francisco is cold in December, and I sold my car after moving into Marissa and Ryland’s mother-in-law apartment. The cab fees are killing me. I promised Grant I wouldn’t ever take an Uber. The man has something against the ride sharing app, but unlike my friends I don’t use a private car service to drive me places. And there’s no way I’m admitting to Aspen how much time I’ve spent playing her husband’s new game.
“There’s another raid happening at the wharf in twenty. Want to hit it up?” Dean asks as the group who gathered in the last few minutes disperses. Probably down to the wharf to try the new battle. Each dragon is only available in the game by participating in group raids for a limited time. Everyone is working to grab one for themselves before time runs out.
Any other day and I might — I want this flipping dragon — but this afternoon I’m expecting last-minute packages from Amazon, which I need to get wrapped and ready to go for Aspen’s Christmas party in a few days. There’s no better motivator than procrastination.
Finn’s new game is addicting and has eaten up a ton of my time the last two weeks. The single-player game has people walking around the city finding virtual animals of various species and trying to catch them with brightly colored balls. Higher point animals are only available when people gather to battle and collect the prizes as a group. If I don’t get my shit together and start throwing better, I’m never going to add the green dragon to my collection.
“Sorry, Dean. I must get home. Lots of Christmas prep to do.”
Dean nods, accepting the answer. I rarely take him up on his offers for more raiding or the hundred times he’s asked me out to coffee. To his credit he hasn’t stopped trying.
“Okay, see you next time.” He waves, following a large group of people making their way to cars and bikes before heading toward the wharf in search of the next battle.
Dean is a nice guy and any other time I’d be attracted to his blond hair and boyish looks, but… there’s something about him. A chunk is missing. He’s never caused my heart to flutter when I spot him waving in a crowd. When you have four best friends who are madly in love with their significant others, it’s hard to accept less for yourself. I want to be swept away.
I’m sure critics would say my friends are super happy because they fell madly in love with billionaires — or at least high-level millionaires — but I know better. They’re absolutely smitten. Even Marissa, who pretends Ryland doesn’t make her heart flutter, still follows him around the room with her eyes when he walks away.
There’s no need for my guy to own a big bank account, but I do need the butterflies.
I step onto the sidewalk outside the Giants baseball stadium — of course Finn made his precious baseball stadium a huge spawn point for his game — and check for a cab. The road is eerily quiet since there’re no games in December, and the people from the raid snatched up other rides.
Even though Grant, Clare’s boyfriend, will kill me if he finds out, I scroll through my phone and tap on the Uber app. If I must call for a ride, I should at least make it a cheap one. He’d also be pissed at how close I am to his neighborhood — not the safest in the city — without someone here with me. But it’s too late now.
The app flashes and quickly displays an array of cars driving on streets near my location. I click the buttons needed to secure a ride and stand on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for the app to match me with someone.
A door opens, hitting the side of a building down the street, and I jump as the noise echoes over the sidewalk. “Don’t pull shit with me, Richie,” a deep man’s voice filters out, full of annoyance.
I step back into the shadows and try not to draw attention to myself crossing my fingers the Uber gets here fast. The two men walk down the sidewalk right at me, too involved in their conversation to notice where I stand.
“I want my cut,” the guy on the left, Richie, says.
“Richie, you don’t get a cut. You need to learn your place.”
Richie stops walking. The temperature drops a few degrees as a black car speeds around a corner and stops on the curb. Two men get out but don’t approach the argument. The original man pulls something from his coat pocket and sticks his arms out in Richie’s direction. There’s a loud pop like someone stepped on a firecracker and a flash of red bursts between the two men. Richie falls to the ground.
A scream draws attention from the three men still standing on the sidewalk.
“Fuck!” someone yells.
“What the fuck was that?” another of the men yells. His head whips in my direction as I place a hand over my mouth to silent any other screams. They saw me now so I can’t run. “Take care of her.” He nods his head to the man standing by the driver’s seat.
I search out an escape in either direction, but there’s none to be found. There’s nowhere to run as I flatten my back against the wall. I’m a sitting duck. So, I sit. On the other side of the wall away from their view but not hidden. The man approaches, shrouded in darkness, and I close my eyes waiting for the inevitable. I’ve seen enough movies, and this doesn’t end in my favor. A sense of peace and calm take over my brain and for a few seconds my panic even subsides. All this for a green dragon.
“Amanda?” a man’s voice I recognize immediately asks.
I look up, my eyes widening. Someone I consider a friend stands at the edge of my feet, a gun held at his side but not pointed in my direction.
“Fucking shit,” he says and I tense. “Like I didn’t have enough problems.” He rubs his forehead, lines forming in the space. When he opens his eyes, they’re dead set on mine. “Get down and stay quiet, okay?” he whispers.
I nod, covering my mouth tightly. A tear leaks out of the corner of my eye, falling to the pavement. He raises the gun, the barrel at my level but pointed to the left. A shot rings out, the smell of smoke sizzling in the air. I squeeze my body as tightly as possible to the brick building as my ears throb and ring.
