“Former assassin,” she corrected. “And you wouldn’t hurt a child.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yep,” she grinned. “You didn’t cover it to protect or conceal yourself - you did it to reinvent yourself. So you’re not an assassin anymore, just my dad’s girlfriend.”
“I’m not your dad’s girlfriend. Or an assassin either.”
“Sure. Those things don’t define you, you’re Tempest. Your own woman. Those are just threads that make up your fabric.”
“Get out of here,” I demanded, pointing out the door. “And I’m definitely telling whichever of your parents I see first about those guys following you.”
“I figured that,” she shrugged, pushing the door open. “Your secret is safe with me though.”
I woke up before the glass broke.
There was just… This feeling of unease that ripped me from my sleep, guiding my fingers to the slick black gun tucked between the headboard and the mattress.
I had it in my hands, had turned the safety off, had swung my feet out of bed, onto the cool surface of the hardwood.
And then there it was.
The unmistakable crash of someone breaking in.
I was light on my feet, quick to do a cursory sweep around the apartment to make sure I was alone before tossing on some pants to go with the oversized shirt I’d slept in, and shoes.
Then I opened the door.
Quietly, of course.
No lack-of-oil whine from any of my hinges, no alerting creek from the stairs. Once upon a time, I was heralded for my stealth, so it was almost fun getting down those stairs, using the second entrance to make sure there was no one in the workroom.
Almost.
There was still an intruder to contend with.
At first, I thought whoever it was had already moved on, but then I realized there was a dark figure lurking half-crouched near the door.
If they were from the Garden, they would know better.
This had to be someone else.
But at least it wasn’t worst-case scenario.
The figure suddenly moved, grabbing one of the removable shelves from the wall. From my concealed position in the stock room, I watched as that shelf got used like a battering ram through the glass front door, making even more noise as it shattered and rained down.
Trying to draw my attention.
A skilled hunter wouldn’t have needed to break a thing, and wouldn’t have wanted the attention on them. This person probably thought they couldn’t get past my apartment door on their own, so they had to draw me out instead.
Well…
Here I was.
“You looking for me?” I asked, my voice commanding as I took a wide stance in the workroom doorway, gun aimed. The only illumination spilled in from the streetlights through the broken door and window, but it was enough for that dark figure to see me - and my loaded weapon - and decide it was better to run.
“HEY!” I shouted, taking off after them, making it to the sidewalk in front of the shop before I lifted my gun, aimed, and…didn’t take the shot.
I couldn’t fire a fucking gun in the middle of the neighborhood without attracting a lot more attention than I wanted.
With two gaping holes in my storefront, the block was already hot enough.
Still on high alert, I retreated back to the workroom - my best vantage point - to pull my phone from the pocket of the sweats I’d tossed on. My eyes stayed focus around me, seeking out movement as I tucked the phone between my ear and shoulder to keep my hands free.
“Hello?”
I frowned at the sound of the male voice on the other end of the line until he repeated himself, and recognition struck me.
“Cree? Why are you answering Alicia’s phone? Did something happen to her?”
“Some of her homegirls and five too many margaritas happened to her,” he chuckled. “She is knocked the fuck out, but when the phone woke me up and I saw it was you, I figured I should answer. Are you okay?”
“I...I don’t know,” I admitted. “Somebody broke into the shop. Then ran when I confronted them.”
“Confronted?? Did you shoot anybody?”
“No!” I rolled my eyes. “I wanted to, but I knew better, and now I… don’t know what to do. I didn’t have a plan for something like this. I should’ve had a plan for something like this,” I said, even though that last part was more for myself than him.
“Call the police.”
“What would I do that for?”
“So that if whoever it was comes back, you’ll have an explanation for shooting them.”
“They can’t come back for me if I’m not here.”
“But you will be there, because this is your life now, remember? You can’t just jet anymore,” Cree said, his tone stern, but still gentle. “Stuff like this happens to anybody, all the time. You gonna pull your roots up and run away?”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re welcome,” he chuckled in response. “Call the police, so they can file the little report, and I’m gonna talk to Willow about making sure all your documentation is in order for your gun. You’re a regular citizen, Tempest, so that should be reflected in your response to this.”
“Oh, so I should expect the police to beat my ass and accuse me of breaking in then?”
Cree busted out with a full laugh this time. “Nah, not in the Heights. I hear you though. I get it. I don’t think you’re gonna run into that there.”
I pushed out a sigh, denying the urge to make an unfair quip about him being a cop - he’d quit the force in Vegas because he was disgusted with them, so it would be a low blow to take it there.
Especially when he was trying to help.
Especially when… He wasn’t wrong.
“Fine. I’ll call,” I conceded.
“Good. As soon as Alicia is conscious, I’ll update her on what’s going on.”
I thanked Cree and we said brief goodbyes, so I could get MHPD on the line. It was a small operation, so I was impressed by how fast they arrived.
I still couldn’t wait for them to leave.
I was tired, and anxious,
