Page 15 of Wicked King

I eye the quiet shop, and my brows furrow. The store is clearly closed, so why is she in there? Jerking my phone out of my pocket, I type out a quick text.

Me: Find out who owns the property on 875 Washington Street.

Jimmy: Will do. You got a lead on the last heist?

Me: What are you talking about?

Jimmy: …You didn’t hear about Lei’s guys breaking into the Red Dragon’s warehouse in the Lower East Side and stealing half of their shit?

Fuck, of course I hadn’t. I’d been too busy following around a beautiful ghost. Jianjun Zhang isn’t going to stand for this.

Me: Of course I know. But this isn’t about that. Just do it ASAP.

Jimmy: Consider it done as soon as I finish up surveilling the Puerto Ricans.

Shit… what’s going on with them? Maybe I have been a little too preoccupied. I’ll have Nico catch me up on everything when I return to the office.

I pocket my phone as two figures appear across the street, jerking my attention away from Jia and her mysteries and all the other questions now circling my mind. The males, wearing navy from head to toe, slow as they reach Jia’s boutique. They peer around the corner through the window, and the hair on the back of my neck rises.

One of the males slides his hand into his pocket and pulls out something metal that glints beneath the early morning sunlight. I squint to try to make out the details but cars zip back and forth across the road, blocking my view.

The guy throws the silver thing through the window, and the sharp crash of glass breaking sends my feet into motion without my even giving it a thought. I race across the street, the blaring of horns as I weave through traffic nothing compared to the mad thrashing of my pulse.

By the time I reach the sidewalk, smoke fills the small shop. “Jia!” I wrap my hand around the door handle and try to wrench it open, but it’s locked. Fuck. “Jia!” I pound on the door as the dense cloud of gray consumes everything inside. “Open the door!” Eyeing the broken window, I mutter a curse as I stare at the shards of shattered glass around the opening. I’m not meant for this white knight shit, I failed at that long ago. The dark thoughts spiral once again, but somehow, I manage to keep them from sucking me under. It’s not the same. Jia isn’t her… And when you think about it, I don’t owe this woman anything, really.

Still, I survived a brutal house fire when I was only a kid, and no one deserves to endure that.

Reaching into my jacket pocket, I jerk out the silk pocket square and cup it against my mouth. I use my free arm to cover my face to avoid the broken glass, kick in more glass to widen the hole and squeeze through the opening. A jagged shard slices across my side as I push through and I bite back a snarl. “Jia! Where are you?”

Moving through the murky space, I realize there are no flames, no actual fire. Only that thick, foul-smelling smoke. I scan the room, and a figure on the ground catches my eye. Shit. Bending down, I forgo the covering over my mouth and scoop Jia’s motionless form into my arms, cradling her against my chest. Her eyes are closed, her breaths faint. Fuck, not again.

The toxic fumes sting my eyes as I scan her pale skin for a wound of some sort. “Jia?” Nothing. Holding my breath, I navigate the seemingly endless fog, dodging mannequins, and rush toward the front door. Balancing her on one arm, I blindly search for the lock. As my fingers finally close around the cold metal, I release the breath I’ve been holding and barrel through the door onto the sidewalk.

Sucking in a breath of fresh air, I drop down to the ground and gently lay Jia across my lap. “Come on, breathe. Breathe, damn it.” Her chest refuses to rise, and a terrifying blue tint encircles her lips.

Pinching her nose, I cover her mouth with my own and blow a breath. Then another, watching for the rise of her chest with each of my breaths. The wail of an ambulance sends my heart skyrocketing up my throat.

“Jia!” A vaguely familiar old man appears around the corner, his eyes wide as they land on us.

It’s Wei Guo, her grandfather; it has to be.

Jia takes a deep breath and begins to cough as he drops to his knees beside me and pulls the girl’s head into his lap, murmuring in Mandarin. Her breaths become more even, the steady rise and fall of her chest oddly reassuring.

“She’s going to be okay,” I mutter.

The old man dips his head. “Thank you.”

I nod and rise as the ambulance pulls up along the sidewalk. I need to get out of here. The last thing I need is to break down in the middle of the busy street, or worse, be involved in bad publicity for Gemini Corp. This was clearly a gang-related incident and as the co-CEO, I can’t be implicated. My company has been under enough scrutiny, and the mob rumors certainly don’t make it any better.

I dart down the street, but I can’t keep myself from looking back as the paramedics lift Jia onto the stretcher. Her grandfather stands beside her, and even from across the block, I catch her dark lashes fluttering across porcelain skin.

Jia’s okay. She’s going to be just fine.

Not that I care…

CHAPTER 8

SUBMISSION

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