Every instinct I had screamed at me to tear him off her.
But then I caught it—the way he moved around her was with effortless familiarity, with comfort. There was zero trace of sexual tension. It was more like brotherly affection.
Good.
She wasn’t alone, and she would be cared for.
Thank God for that.
I exhaled hard, grounding myself with one palm against the railing of the fire escape.
A shadow moved below me.
Henri.
I climbed down and landed on the pavement beside him.
“She’s had a rough night,” I muttered. “If anything—anything—seems off, you let me know immediately.”
Henri gave a sharp nod. “Got it.”
“She works for Delgado. Witnessed a murder tonight. That makes her a target, even if she doesn’t know it yet. Stay vigilant. I want to know if anyone else is watching her.”
He nodded and didn’t ask questions, just faded into the shadows like the ghost he was.
I looked back up toward the fourth floor.
Lyla’s bedroom light was on.
I pulled out my phone and called Rory.
“Same alley you picked me up from earlier,” I said. “Now.”
“Sure thing” was all he said.
I ended the call, stepped away from the fire escape, and pulled the cigarette pack from the breast pocket of my jacket, giving it two quick taps against my palm. I slid one out with my fingers and clamped it between my lips, walking toward the street.
Lighter in hand, I flicked it once, twice—then cupped my other hand over the flame to block the wind as it caught.
The flame held, and I drew in slowly.
Smoke filled my lungs.
I tipped my head back and exhaled, the stream of smoke rising in a steady coil above me, twisting in the glow of the nearest streetlight until it disappeared into the dark.
My fingers were steady.
My pulse wasn’t.
In the underworld, everything changed fast. One minute you were collecting intel, and the next you were watching some bastard get his skull turned inside out. And the girl who’d just blown your mind? She was center stage. Painted in blood. One misstep away from becoming someone’s twisted prize.
I inhaled again, tightening my jaw and letting the nicotine calm my pulse.
Rory’s SUV pulled up. This felt like a replay of earlier.
I opened the door and slid inside.
“You look like shit,” he pointed out with a chuckle.
