“Zirconia?” Valentina cuts in. “She played you, Bradley. She drugged you and fled.”
I drag my hand down my face and groan softly as the fallen, empty glass beside me comes into focus. “Fuck.”
Touché, Zira.
21
ZIRA
The sedative I stole from Valentina’s medical kit was much stronger than I expected. Bradley was out like a light, and with his unconsciousness came unbelievable levels of guilt.
He’s a nice man.
A good man.
He fucks like he cares, like I’m something worth holding on to, and that feeds into the guilt as I dress quickly and sneak barefoot out of the bar and into the dark street. He’s too nice, really. A man like that deserves something better than me, and as much as I sort of trust him to keep me safe, my brother is more important.
Maybe I would have stayed, but the two healing gunshot scars on Bradley’s body stood out like a beacon while he was on top of me, constantly reminding me that I tried to kill this man and there’s a chance he’s harboring a desire to kill me deep down inside. It’s a risk I can’t take, not when I don’t know how my brother is or what’s happened to him.
At the end of the alley, I break into a sprint and race away from the bar as fast as I can until the drifting music from the party is swallowed by the late-night noises of the city. Stumbling over sharp stones and dirt on the ground, I dart around trash and other party people out celebrating. A few people yell after me, but I ignore their concern because every yell stands a chance of being Bradley or one of his people and I can’t risk getting caught. If I can’t get to my brother, then there’s no telling when or if I’ll ever see him again.
I don’t stop running until I’m panting harshly, completely out of breath, and my body burns so hot that the coolness of the night air doesn’t even register. Standing under a streetlight, I seek out my phone from the small bag clutched to my dress and send a quick message to my brother.
[Zira] I’m free. Where can we meet?
He doesn’t reply.
Would it kill him to text me immediately? Rolling my eyes, I tap through to my socials and search my brother’s page in case there’s anything there, but it’s as inactive as always. I text him the same message three more times just in case one got lost in the ether somewhere, then lean against the streetlight to catch my breath.
This is fine.
If what I stole from Valentina is anything like what Bradley put in my own drink, he’ll be out for a few hours, at least. I need to get away from here and gather my thoughts. As I huddle in my dress, fighting to ignore the warm damp seeping between my thighs, a taxi pulls up in front of me and rolls down the window.
“Need a cab?” asks an older woman from the driver’s seat.
“No, sorry. I’m okay.”
“You sure?” She looks me up and down over the top of her glasses. “You okay, honey?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just… waiting.”
“With no shoes?”
I hold them up by the straps. “Sore to walk in.”
“Alright, dear.” She pauses even as I flash her a smile. “This isn’t exactly a safe place to linger at night. Where you headed?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t have any money or anything, so I can’t. Thank you.”
“Well, I can’t drive away in good conscience and leave you here,” the woman replies after a glance around. “Hop in, honey. I’ll take you to a diner I know. It’s not far, but it’ll be a damn sight safer place for you to wait than a street corner.”
“Are you sure?” My heart lifts a little and I squint, quickly studying her to see whether this really is a safe option. She seems normal, rather kind, actually, and reminds me of a woman who regularly comes into the jewelry store.
“Completely. Hop in, honey.”
“My lucky night,” I say as I slide into the back of the taxi, groaning now that my feet are no longer pressed against the cold, hard ground.
The woman drives off and occasionally glances at me in the mirror. “Rough night? You look stressed.”
