"Heard you were at the warehouse," he says immediately.
"I help everyone, Miguel. You know that."
"You saved Torch."
"I save whoever's bleeding."
"Even Iron Talons?"
"Even them."
Silence. Then: "Be careful, Lena. Not everyone appreciates neutral territory."
He hangs up, and I know he knows something. Maybe not what, maybe not who, but something.
Tomorrow at midnight, I'm meeting Bad Decision at Mel's Diner.
Tomorrow, everything changes.
Tonight, I'm going home to wash other people's blood off my skin and pretend my life isn't about to implode.
Chapter sixteen
Locked In
Zane
Meeting canceled by cops. Fate had other plans.
I'm at Mel's at 11:45, watching the door, when the scanner on my phone lights up. Multiple units responding to the old medical warehouse on Jefferson—the one where we store overflow supplies, where deals sometimes happen, where my angel was apparently supposed to meet me in fifteen minutes.
Except now there's a raid.
Cops at Mel's. Abort.
Angel:Already here. Hiding.
Where?
Angel:Medical supply warehouse. Jefferson. You know it?
My blood freezes. That's our warehouse. Iron Talons territory. Currently being raided.
I'm coming.
Angel:NO. Cops everywhere.
Hide. Don't move. I know the building.
I'm on my bike before she can respond, taking back streets, avoiding the circus of red and blue lights. The warehouse has multiple entrances—perks of doing illegal shit, you always know the exits.
I slip in through the loading dock, moving by memory and instinct. The cops are loud, focused on the main floor where the deal went down earlier—not my deal, but someone was sloppy. Their voices echo off concrete, giving away their positions.
My phone vibrates.
Angel:Someone's coming.
Where are you?
