JOLIE
Icouldn’tgo home.
Icouldn’tgo to the club.
Ihad no friends that Icould rely on.
Iwas fucked.
Isat in the booth of the small diner I’dgone to, my back to the wall and my eyes glued on the door as Islowly sipped the black coffee in my hands.
They should have been shaking. Ishould have been terrified. Ihad just jumped from asix-story building and survived—just about, anyway. My hands and knees were amess from landing on the gritty roof, bloody and grazed and needing to be properly cleaned instead of just using water and paper towels from the diner bathroom. But the bullets that had been sent after me had all missed and Iwas there to live another day. At least there was that. For what good it was.
“Can Iget you anything else?” the waitress asked as she passed by my booth, her coffee pot held out to top up my cup.
“Nope,” Ireplied bluntly.
My coffee was cold, but the last thing Ineeded was more caffeine running through my system. Iwas already jittery.
“Well, then I’ll need you to pay and free up the booth.” She slid apiece of paper over to me, smiling sweetly like she was being kind, when we both knew what she really wanted to say was “get the fuck out of here.”
My gaze slid up to her face and then back down to the receipt on the table. “I’ll just finish up and then I’ll be on my way.”
“You can sit at the counter while you do that. We need to free up the booth for the lunchtime rush, ma’am.” Again with the sweetly, sweetly voice.
“Ma’am?” Isnapped. “I’mnot fucking fifty. Jesus, Karen, just let me drink my coffee in peace.”
The waitress sat opposite me, looking around briefly before pinning me with her gaze. “Listen, Iwouldn’tcare if you sat here all day, but my boss is apain in my ass and he said Ihave to get you to order something or get you out. You look like you’re in trouble and need abreak, and Iwish Icould help you, but as it is Ican’t, and I’msorry for that, but my hands are tied.” Her gaze was apologetic as she stood back up, and it was then that Inoticed the guy at the till.
Hair slicked back, shirt untucked, thick-framed glasses on his face. He was watching us pointedly and Igave him the middle finger in reply, to which his gaze narrowed.
“Fuck it,” Imumbled, and stood up, sliding the last of my money over to her for my coffee. “Thanks for nothing.”
Imade my way across the diner, head held high, strides purposeful—that was until Ireached the door and looked out onto the street. Ilet my eyes roam up and down it, checking for any black Cadillacs or any suspicious-looking people, but it was just astreet like any other. Iwished that Icould tell my heart that as it thrummed heavily in my chest, anervous sick feeling moving through my body.
Aman and woman made to come in and Istepped out of their way so they could enter, awave of fresh warm air hitting me. Finally, Istepped outside with as much confidence as Icould muster, despite my apprehension.
Iglanced back once, but the light reflected off the window, almost blinding me, and Iquickly moved out onto the street and began walking—though where Iwas going to go, Ihad no clue. Ihad never felt so alone before. Our family used to be close, but over the years we had all drifted apart. Dom had joined the MC, Danton had joined the army, Marcel had gone into ablack hole of drugs, and Louie and Ihad severed our twin connection by choosing different paths. Through all of that, Ihad pushed everyone away—friends, family, and my hopes and dreams.
Because what was the point?
Everyone left. Everyone.
My feet were sore; wearing heels for so long was never ideal; however, it was my knees that hurt more. With every step Itook, my torn leather pants rubbed on the cuts on my knees, making me wince.
“Fuck,” Igrumbled, not for the first time.
What the hell was Igoing to do?
Ihadn’tturned my cell back on since the previous night, figuring Gauge had tracked me somehow and that was the only reasonable explanation Icould think of. I’dseen enough spy thrillers to know how those things worked. But right then, Icould really do with turning it on and calling someone… But who?
My thoughts drifted to Dom. My selfish big brother who never helped anyone but himself. Least of all me. But right now, he was all Ihad.
Islipped into an alleyway, grateful for the shade, and Ipulled my cell out of my purse, took adeep breath, and turned it on. Only asecond went by before messages began flooding it. Everyone Ihad ever spoken to had left messages, and for amoment Iwas choked with gratitude that someone—many people—had cared enough to try to find me.
Maybe Iwasn’tcompletely alone in this.
Maybe everything wasn’ttotally shit.
