Somehow I think that’s not how this is going to play out.
“Don’t I get a lawyer or a phone call or something?” I try to say through the muzzle as I’m hauled into a tiny cell. Unfortunately, it comes out sounding more like, “dinai gettalor fomekell sumfin.” And anyway, the officer who shoves me into the cell slams the door before I can finish speaking.
Guess not.
I reach behind my head to tear at the muzzle, but it’s fixed in place with some kind of lock I can’t figure out.
This is getting worse and worse every minute. I’m almost sure that asshole shifter from Night Shift is responsible for this, but I probably deserve it for ignoring Jen’s advice and going back there to pick a fight with him. God, I’m stupid sometimes.
I slump to the floor with my back against the wall and lean my head in my hands. How the hell do I get out of this one?
I was counting on that phone call because I know that as mad as Jen’s gonna be when she finds out what happened, she’ll also come make someone’s life hell until they let me out of here.
I really wish I’d listened to her.
TWENTY SEVEN
Jen
“He went out hours ago.” Adam’s roommate, Miles, shrugs. “Sorry I can’t be more help.”
“He didn’t say where he was going?”
“He said something about some night club.”
I deliberately don’t turn to look at Meredith. I don’t want to see her expression right now. “Are you sure?”
“Sorry.”
Really? I just can’t believe Adam would go out clubbing after the week we just shared. Then it hits me. I snap my fingers. “Night Shift? Did he say Night Shift?”
“That’s the one,” Miles agrees, oblivious. “Said he was going back to meet someone he met the other night.”
We thank him and walk back down the steps to the ground floor.
Meredith mutters under her breath, “Jen, we can just go home if you’d rather not see this. Or if you want me to go and check if he’s there, I can.”
I give her the most confident smile I can muster right now. “No, it’s not like that. Adam and I went out to Night Shift the other night. Together.” I flush. “This shifter got me out back near the bathrooms and gave me a scare. I think Adam went to see if the guy was there again tonight and pick a fight.”
Meredith’s eyes go wide. “A shifter? Like a supe? Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Uh, yeah. Which is why I asked him not to, but I know he was really hung up about it.”
We get back into the car, and I start the engine.
“What did this guy do?”
“It was as creepy as it sounds,” I say.
Meredith frowns. “I kinda don’t hate that Adam wanted to follow up on it, then. But I hope he’s OK.”
“Me too.” I pull away from the curb, my stomach swooping as I think about what might have happened.
The drive to Night Shift takes way too long, and every moment brings with it another vivid image of Adam with all his limbs slashed off or hacked apart in a dumpster somewhere.
Meredith is quiet, but she reaches across and squeezes my hand on the steering wheel.
The place is dead when we walk in the door. Only one lone figure sits at a booth in the dark, looking down into his drink. I catch a glimpse of a pale, unfamiliar face and look away.
