Hot, heavy tears fell noiselessly onto my legs, catching on the fishnets wrapped around them. My body shook, chest heaving under the effort to pull in air. I didn’t know how else to react or process the flood of emotions.
He had to know what he’d done—he had acted with purpose.
One kiss.
Taken. Used for revenge.
What kind of cruel, cold-hearted person did that? Simply took what they wanted of a person, with no regard for their victim?
Heat simmered through my veins. If he never even looked at me again, I would be all too happy. And if he did, he had better keep his damned hands and cursed lips to himself. Because after that stunt, I didn’t care if he lived or died.
Did I?
Love is pain, Reagan.
A scream of frustration tore from my throat. That voice. Mordecai’s voice. I didn’t want to hear him in my thoughts—now or ever again. He dictated every facet of my life. Every choice, every decision. Helping the Fae was my only solace, the only way I could cope with what I was.
Night Enforcer.
A title that literally brought fear wherever I went. But then, how could it not when my failures didn’t only punish me?
I stifled a sob. I thought Tarik would be different. He was a Fae unlike any I had met before, one whom I thought might understand how I felt as the black sheep of my race. I had thought he might even be able to look past my title. That maybe Tarik—
I choked on the name.
Mordecai was right.
No. He wasn’t.
I didn’t love this Fae. My feelings weren’t anywhere close. I might have liked him a little, though. Might have been drawn to his fire.
But at the end of the day, was he really so different from the shifters he proclaimed to hate? He, like them, disregarded the feelings of the people they hurt in an effort to lift themselves.
He was no better than the scum at The Pit.
My head throbbed. Fingers shaking, I struggled to pull my cigarette case free. My thumb brushed the embossed lion on the front, fumbling for the clasp on top. I took several deep, steady breaths, enough to even out my trembling, and snapped my lighter open. The bright flame flicked to life, casting a faint orange glow on the concrete rubble. I managed to spark the end of my cigarette, taking a long draw.
Better. Not really. A bandaid slapped over a gaping wound.
I kept replaying the fight, retracing each word, trying to find the exact moment things went south. Did I believe what I had said to Tarik? That Mordecai wouldn’t kill me? I had never seriously considered him taking his anger that far. Lashings, sure. My fingers brushed the dragon mark on my neck, still achy. A reminder that Mordecai’s punishments were escalating again. Every time I was caught, or learned more about my adoptive father, I gained a clearer picture of exactly what kind of monster he was. Did I deserve the brand? No. Maybe . . .
Hell.
I don’t know.
My eyes fell to the still-bleeding wound on my arm. I deserved that. No question. Tarik had a way of poking at my temper, lighting the worst parts into a blazing rage. But I was an Enforcer. Losing control like I had was unacceptable. His words were cruel, but he had used words and I had resorted to violence. My behavior was unacceptable. Plus, my shifter abilities gave me an unfair advantage. Guilt rippled through my chest. I was supposed to be better than this. If I couldn’t be, how could I hold him responsible for his own actions?
Because he had hurt me in return, then kept going. Because he had repaid every blow I had given him and I couldn’t do the same. I didn’t want to. My heart clenched. I hadn’t deserved that, no matter what his reasons were. He stole something precious.
I’m done thinking about this.
Inhaling slowly, I forced my mind to wander, thoughts skipping back and forth until they landed on the boy. Benji. I didn’t know much about him, and I had never met his mother, but clearly her health was worsening. Tarik wouldn’t get paid for a few days yet—Mordecai had them on a biweekly cycle. Maybe I could help. I didn’t know which apartment was hers, but I could leave the medicine with Tarik.
That would mean seeing him.
I winced.
No, thanks.
I took another drag from my cigarette and crushed the hot cherry into the broken concrete beside me. I could help Benji and his mother, Tarik be damned.
Climbing to my feet, I vaulted the half wall and threw my leg over the seat of my bike. She purred, raring to go, but I hesitated. My mind skimmed over the places that might have what Benji’s mother would need. I had medicine in my penthouse, but no vitamins—and she would need those if she was struggling to heal. Buying them wasn’t an option. Mordecai was likely tracking my purchases right now.
Damnit. There had to be more options.
My fingers drummed the handles of my bike as I looked around the quiet street. I tugged at my lip ring, lost in thought, gaze falling to the mansion that taunted me in the distance.
I can take the medicine from Mordecai.
He would never notice, and the irony would be sweet. His money, directly funding my efforts to save the Fae . . .
I huffed an airy laugh before I laid on the gas.
—
The mansion’s doors loomed in front of me but I couldn’t seem to move. Mordecai kept his first aid supplies in a bathroom near his office. If I went there, he’d see or hear me. I tapped my foot on the stone path, glancing at the small flower gardens that edged the lawn. Their presence was a travesty, the bright petals far too vibrant for a place holding so much darkness.
Darkness.
The mines. The medical room. I could steal the medicine from there. No one was down there right
