“I told you I have your money, plus more,” she said with confidence she didn’t feel. “You get it tonight, and I’m done. I want a kilo of crystals, then I’ll never see your face again.”
She shoved the duffel into his chest.
He shoved her harder, and before she could catch her breath, his forearm rose to her throat. “I can’t trust you, can I?” The weight on her windpipe increased. “I should just kill you.”
The alley narrowed. Her lungs struggled for air that wouldn’t come.
“You kill me,” she snarled, “and you’re a dead man. My attorney—the one who got me out of a triple homicide—is outside. If I don’t come back, he’ll hunt you. You’ll rot in a cell.”
His fingers crushed harder. “You’re lying,” he breathed.
“Want…to risk it?”
Apparently, he did. His aura shifted, and she felt his intent rise—he was going to kill her. She’d known Erik was a violentman, but his threats were usually empty. Until today. Today, he meant it.
Audrey had lied. Alex wasn’t waiting outside. She’d insisted on going alone so she could buy more drugs without him knowing.
The alley remained empty.
Her mind kept trying to inventory her attack options even as oxygen thinned. She could knee him in the groin and gouge his eyes. The door to the club was six feet behind him, with the dumpster wall to her left. There was a broken bottle by the drain, which she could smash over his head.
No, it was too far and would be too slow.
The duffel sat half-zipped against the car tire, with the twelve grand inside. She’d thought it would be enough to buy her way loose, but in reality, it was enough to get herself killed.
His face was close now, blotchy with rage and need. She could feel him deciding whether she was worth more alive, working and obedient, or dead with the cash already in hand.
That realization steadied something in her. Erik had crossed into a kind of violence that didn’t leave space for negotiation. She was not getting out of this by talking.
And that unusual pressure caressed the back of her mind again.
She ignored it.
Spots bloomed at the periphery of her vision while she scratched at Erik’s arm. It might as well have been welded there. Her legs gave way, but his arm was so firm it held her upright.
She saw it then—clear as a photograph. In her mind's eye, she saw Erik dropping her body behind the broken pallets, slinging the duffel over his shoulder, and walking back inside as if nothing had happened.
It would be that easy.
Tears leaked hot from the corners of her eyes. Her hand loosened against his wrist.
No, not like this.
Something broke inside her. It wasn’t a conscious thought.
It was an instinct.
An electric current lit up underneath her skin, and the blood-tang of it hit her tongue. Her strength surged, roaring up from somewhere buried and violent, rattling her bones from the inside out. The feeling was terrifying and intoxicating. Like grabbing a power line and realizing it wasn’t lethal—it made you more.
Spreading her fingers, her hands lifted as her aura tore outward—vicious and invisible—straight into Erik. It reached past flesh, found a grip, and yanked.
At the same instant, her fist clenched in the air. A wet choking sound split the alley, followed by a sickening smack.
Erik dropped, hitting the pavement at her feet, slack-limbed.
And Audrey realized she hadn’t told it to stop.
His body twitched as his hands raked at his throat. Erik’s mouth opened and closed around nothing. She panted. Her hand fell to her side, but inside her body, the power still raged.
