But when I thought about that kiss, the angry press of his lips to mine, and the forceful way he had shoved me back. My tears renewed. I sat on the floor of my shower and let them fall.
Minutes passed before I swiped at my face, the effort wasted under the steady downpour. Time to get up. I needed to collect myself, take action. I could find him and tell him what Mordecai planned, and then, if I didn’t want to, I never had to see him again. Right now, I could live with that. But I couldn’t exactly walk up to him in the mines.
When the water ran cold, I dried off and climbed into bed. The warmth and comfort of my blankets sang a siren’s song that was impossible to resist. I didn’t want to go anywhere or see anyone, anyway. I set an alarm for half an hour after he should get out. Didn’t want to be too much of a stalker.
I punched my pillow, burying my face in the impression my fist left.
A couple hours later the painfully cheerful chirp of my alarm woke me. My body was sluggish but my mind was ready to go. I had a plan. I dressed quickly and took the elevator instead of shifting. No time to deal with Fae modesty. I needed to spit the words out and be gone.
My mind was a carousel of emotions—angry, then sad, then hurt. Never at the same time. I glanced left and right, eyes skirting the route to the mansion. Abandoned, no Fae to be seen. Come on. I want to get this over with.
Under my hands, the handles of my bike vibrated; as though she could feel the tension squeezing my shoulders and wanted to get moving. I pushed her forward, racing toward Tarik’s apartment, but the dark windows told me all I needed to know. No lights, no Tarik. My stomach lurched. Maybe I was too late. Maybe Mordecai had kept them today.
Damnit.
I can’t be too late.
My fist met his rotted, wooden door frame. A distant shout echoed down the street and I realized that I had one final hope. The Pit. I kicked my bike into motion, flying across the worn blacktop.
The air around The Pit felt wrong tonight, the shifters eyeing me in a way I wasn’t particularly comfortable with. Out for a fight, and the Night Enforcer was the perfect target. I set my kickstand and ignored them.
Not tonight boys, I’m not in the mood.
Tarik wasn’t inside though. Frenzied anxiety roared through my veins.
Where is he?
I didn’t want to be wrong, didn’t want to be too late.
Please, please don’t let me be too late.
As I climbed the stairs from The Pit, one of the angry-looking shifters sidled up beside me. The scent of whiskey was strong and upset the delicate balance of my stomach. I almost expelled the meager contents all over him.
“Aw, Enforcer, can’t find your boyfriend?”
I puffed myself up. “Do you really want to instigate a fight you’re not ready for? I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“Oh, no? We know all about you, dirty Fae-lover.” His eyes locked on my face as he waited for me to confess my treasonous behavior.
I chuckled softly. “You might want to check your sources.”
I turned to leave when he grabbed my arm. Rage spiked through my veins and I swung for his face, but he caught my fist. His eyes raked the length of my body and I shivered at the predatory glint that sparked to life. The scent of alcohol washed over me. Liquid courage.
“I have these friends . . . they’re pretty reliable sources,” he sneered, shoving me backward.
My back met warm bodies. I spun around. Shifters—the ones who had been prepared to kill Tarik several nights ago—lurked in the shadows. And they had brought friends. Too many. These odds weren’t in my favor.
I’m not going down without a fight.
In my distraction, I missed the fist that flew at me. My body shook under the impact. Instinctively, I slid into a defensive position. I raised my hands to block another blow and a fist slammed into the back of my head. Damnit. I was completely boxed in. I dipped low and swept at the legs of the leader. He caught my foot, flipping me onto my back.
My heart pounded in my ears as I glared up at him. “You don’t really want to piss off an Enforcer, do you?” Blood trickled over my lips.
His responding grin chilled my core. “No, but we’ll gladly kill one.”
I awoke to Callie batting at something on my chest. As she continued to swat, the object clattered and rolled, eventually smacking the cement floor with a jingling rattle.
At the jarring noise, my eyes flew open and I bolted upright. Callie went tumbling and so did several white bottles. I frowned, blinking slowly, not comprehending. Glancing around my room, I half-expected to find Benji. Every once in a while, he brought his makeshift toys over and played quietly while I slept. That boy rose before the birds.
But my apartment was empty save for Callie, who was now rolling one of the bottles across the floor. I plucked one off my blanket and inspected the label: calcium supplements. My frown deepened and I snatched up another one. And another. All were either vitamins or pain meds.
I scrubbed a hand down my face, trying to jog my hazy memory. Last night had been a blur of fatigue and anger and guilt. So much guilt. I had lost my temper again, big time, and once more Reagan had paid the price. I had hoped that by squashing the image she had of me, she’d back off and be safer for it. Spending time with me would only get her hurt—or killed. Mordecai would make sure of that.
And then I’d lost my mind. Instead of firmly pushing her away and erecting the necessary walls,
