Now, this Mancini guy wants me to hook up with some kid to find someone who’s offing predators. I need more information on that before I give the okay, but since Gideon doesn’t seem to find anything off about it, I’ll keep my cool for now. Usually, I’d be the one taking out the assholes; it’s what I do.
Gideon had wanted me to go into the family business. To keep my nose clean, rake in the dough and live the life of Riley. That just wasn’t for me, though. I’d seen too much by the age of sixteen, both from my time living on the streets and from learning about the shit my old man was into at a very young age.
Part of what I do is to make amends to the world for the shit he’d done. The craven asshole should’ve got worse than I did to him when I gutted him that night ten years ago. If I’d had the time, I would’ve made him suffer a hell of a lot more for all the horror he and his cronies had inflicted on the innocent.
And since my sister Ashley is a daily reminder of that, there’s no way that I can live my life in a cushy job behind a desk. I’d gone to school because that’s what they both wanted, but there was never any chance of that happening. I’ve spent every day since Gideon forced me to move into his mansion, which Ashley, to this day, refuses to let me leave, honing my skills.
I’ve rescued or been part of the rescue team that brought home more than fifty young kids over the years. Each one is like saving Ashley all over again, as well as retribution for the ones I couldn’t save from my dad back then. I can’t stop, I won’t ever stop, not as long as there’s one kid missing and being exploited out there in the big fucked up world.
I looked around the room again, at all the men gathered there. There was a lightness in the air as everyone teased the Lyon guy about his lineage. He didn’t look like the type you should be teasing like that unless you were a lion tamer. Guy looked like he was the type to throw your ass out a high-rise window and not lose any sleep.
Then there were the SEALs. Even when they were across the room from each other, they moved together like a well-oiled machine. It was hard to miss and beautiful to see. Gideon had already thrown his hat in with these guys since the last time they worked together, so I know there’s nothing for me to worry about. Still, I won’t rest easy until I’ve got the lay of the land myself.
“I’ll be right back; I don’t see Dana and Jenna.”
“They’re with Lyon’s kid.” Just then, the door opened, and a man and woman walked in. One look is all it took to see what he is; stone-cold, and you can add whatever else you wanna add at the end of that statement. The guy oozed wealth and breeding, but there was an underlying element that might be hard to miss unless you were someone like me.
But it was the woman that drew the eye. She was tiny like most of the women here, including my sister, but there was an edge to her that you’d miss if you weren’t looking. She’d cased the room in seconds and didn’t relax until the man beside her did. “Everyone, you remember Shane and Arianna Flanagan.” Mancini addressed the room.
“Oh shit, Gideon, is that?”
“Yep!” Things just got real fucking interesting. The prince of the city had just joined the room. What the hell is he doing here? If these men are playing around in his sandbox, then they can’t be as straitlaced as I first thought.
ROXY
I sat with my back to the wall in the corner of the little twenty-four-hour café I’d found to kill time in for the night. I’d already cased the place inside and out, but it’s going to be a long time before I ever feel comfortable out in the open like this, if ever. All around me, people were going about their regular lives.
One couple was quietly arguing at the table a few rows from me; there was a homeless guy at the counter begging for leftovers or anything that will be tossed in another hour or so. It’s the reason I picked this place. After being on the streets for a while, I’d learned how to find places like this, places that were friendly to people who were down on their luck.
My reasons for this were twofold. On the one hand, the everyday workers thought they were doing a kindness to those who were less fortunate. What they didn’t know is that most of their bosses exploit that kindness for their own sick needs—preying on the vulnerable who had no hope of ever escaping their schemes and snares.
I felt myself becoming upset again and had to dig my nails into my palms to calm myself down. It wouldn’t do to have one of my episodes here. I have to keep the docile unaware act in place so everyone would overlook my existence here and carry on with life as usual.
It’s not easy to do with a face like mine, not even with the smudges of dirt and ash I’d rubbed into my cheeks. But keeping my head down and averted, not to mention hiding the turquoise blue of my eyes behind the cheap, tacky shades went a long way to disguising what I really look like.
My clothes, the ones I’d stolen not too long ago hung off of me and hid the slender body beneath, giving no hint of the curves that would no doubt draw unwanted notice from the opposite sex. And to round it all out, I’d hidden my midnight black hair beneath a worn cap that had seen much better days.
All in all, my get-up was the best deterrent I could come up with while on the run. I picked at the day-old muffin, not really tasting it. I was much closer to my goal and yet so far. My mind went to the others I’d had to leave behind, and I felt my gut twist itself into knots.
In my head, I repeated the vow I’d made to myself the day I left—the vow to return and take them away. The weight of that promise weighed heavily on me now as I thought of all that laid ahead. This was one of those times when I wished I could lay down my burden or have someone else there to help me carry it at the very least.
But I can’t trust anyone; I’d learned that a long time ago. The ones you’re supposed to trust in this world can sometimes be the most monstrous. Hidden behind veneers of wealth and gentility, they’re the worst society has to offer, as far as I’ve seen anyway, and I’ve seen a lot in my young life.
I saw him walk into the café, just as I’d expected. It was part of his routine to come here at the end of his long night before heading home. He didn’t see me, of course, and wouldn’t recognize me if he did. It had been years after all—years since he ripped me from my home and took me to hell.
He’d been promoted since then and as now a sergeant on the force—another one who should be trusted but was lacking in all virtue. My skin crawled as I watched him smile and flirt with one of the servers behind the counter, and I wondered at the ease with which he hid what he was.
No one paid attention as I left my seat and followed him out the door. He never looked back as he made his way down the busy sidewalk, turning the corner onto the street where he lived. I crossed the street just as he looked back over his shoulder, his police training probably kicking in and alerting him to the fact that someone was on his tail.
I didn’t need to follow on his heels anyway; I already knew where he lived, already knew my way in. I just needed the satisfaction of hunting my prey without him knowing it, the same way he’d done with so many innocents before. I gave him enough time to enter the little one-story house he rented, enough time to get into the act of his late-night routine before crossing the street to enter his house.