A woman steps out from the shelter of a nearby shop doorway. I squint, trying to make out the scantily dressed figure, but as she gets closer, I realise it’s not her. “You looking for business?” she shouts over the downpour.
I shake my head. “Nah, and you shouldn’t be out in this weather.”
“Hunny, I have bills to pay. No raincheck for me.”
“I’m looking for someone,” I tell her, stuffing my hand into my pocket and pulling out a damp twenty. “Woman, around your age. Brown hair, long. She’s underweight, probably wearing a white dress. No coat.”
She takes the offered cash and stuffs it in her bra. “You’re the second guy to come looking,” she says with a smirk.
I narrow my eyes. “Oh yeah, who was the first?”
She arches her brow. “Another biker. Not the same patch as you, though,” she tells me, nodding to my kutte. “I only took note cos there was a car parked right over there,” she says with a nod, “and after the biker left, she got out the car.”
I glance over my shoulder to where she points. “She was at Steels?” I ask. “Did she go inside?”
She shakes her head. “No. She stood there for a while, though, then it started to rain and she ran off in the direction of the park.”
I pull another twenty out and stuff it in her hand. “Thanks. Anyone else comes looking, you didn’t see her . . . or me. We clear?”
She nods, smiling. “Anytime you want company, you come find me.”
I turn the bike around and park it outside Steels. The new sign flickers as I remove my helmet and head inside.
The doorman fist-bumps me as I pass, and then Shooter greets me as I enter. “Hey, brother. Axel never said anyone was coming by.”
“Have you seen Remi?” I ask.
He frowns. “The new girl from the bar?” I nod. “Nah, she ain’t in here, brother. I’ve been on since it opened.” I groan. “You need me to help find her?”
I pat him on the shoulder, shaking my head, and then I turn and trudge back out into the rain, passing my bike and heading for the park.
The park’s a swamp. The grass is churned to mud, with puddles deep enough to drown my boots. The trees sway under the weight of the storm, branches creaking like they might snap.
I’ve almost given up hope when I spot it.
A small shape curled beneath one of the old oaks, knees tucked tight, head bowed. The white fabric of her dress clings like second skin, see-through in the rain. For a second, she doesn’t move, just shivers like the cold’s hollowing her out.
“Remi.”
Her head snaps up, eyes red, cheeks blotched, but the tears vanish the second she recognises me. She straightens and wipes her face with the back of her hand, chin tipping up like she’s fine. Like I didn’t just catch her crying.
“Shadow,” she says, her voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” I bite out, striding closer. Up close, she’s worse. Soaked through, her lips are pale, almost blue, and her arms are wrapped tight across her chest. My jaw tightens. “Christ, you’re drenched.”
“I’m fine,” she snaps, though her teeth chatter between the words.
I crouch in front of her, the rain dripping off my kutte. “You’re not fine. You’re cold and wet. Your dress is half fucking see-through, Remi.” My eyes flick down, against my better judgement, then back up. Fury surges.
Her smirk wobbles. “Enjoying the view, Grumpzilla?”
“Not like this,” I growl, shrugging out of my kutte and draping it around her shoulders. It swamps her, heavy but warm, and she doesn’t fight it, telling me just how cold she really feels.
She meets my eyes then, and for a beat, she looks young, breakable. My chest tightens.
“You don’t get it,” she mutters, voice shaking. “I don’t need saving.”
“Too bad,” I say, softer than I mean to. “I’m doing it anyway.”
