Page 10 of Black Bird

“Don’t fuckin’ say that. You sound stupid,” she whispered, fading out of consciousness. He brought her up to the nurse’s station and was promptly followed into Sarah’s room. They laid her back in bed, stripping her out of the robe and sliding her boots off.

After thoroughly checking her, the nurse that had let them outside, whom he now knew was named Lynn, assured Athan that she was fine. Sarah was dehydrated, under medicated, and still very weak from blood loss. She needed rest and fluids. Athan couldn’t bring himself to leave before making sure that her bandage was changed and that she was well on her way to a deep sleep. He felt the deepest regret for his assault when they had peeled off the bloody gauze and he saw the gaping wound that they’d stitched up. The one that he’d given her. He still didn’t understand for the immortal life of him, how this girl had survived. As he watched her chest rise and fall, he wondered why he cared so much.

Athan leaned down, brushing the back of his fingers along hers as they lay against the white sheet.

“I’m so sorry, Sarah …”

Her mouth twitched below the cannula that they’d replaced in her nose. He ran a hand through his hair and zipped his jacket up as he walked quietly out of the door. As the whispers fired up again in his head, Athan looked back.

It was in that moment that he realized that was the last thing he should have done.

CHAPTER 3

BLURRED LINES

It was nearly three in the morning and Brent Stratford hadn’t found a single thing in this apartment that gave him any useful information. Only a framed photo of Sarah and her mother on the front porch of their Seattle home. He’d seen that picture dozens of times and never asked her about it. Any mention of Sarah’s past usually resulted in her shutting down or getting irritated. They had talked very little about her old life while they were getting to know each other and being the man hethoughthe was, he had respected that. All she had ever wanted was a fresh start. Something less painful. That’s all anyone that’s been through some sort of trauma would want, right?

He wouldn’t know. By all accounts, Brent had lived a pretty pampered life. What the public didn’t know about the closed doors in his childhood mansion and the things that went on behind them, usually stayed that way where his father was concerned. Brent was no politician and had never wanted to be. He had worked hard to get accepted into Harvard, and then worked even harder once he got there. Of course, it wasn’t a secret that he was born into family money, but he’d be damned if he left this world with anyone believing that he gave a shit about it. This task from his bastard father surely wasn’t helping that matter.

At first, he thought dating an “out-of-the-box” chick was a pleasant change of scenery compared to the snotty rich girls he’d blown through in college. When Conrad had put Sarah St. James on his radar, he didn’t think it would be more than a few dates, maybe a lay or two and just hand over whatever information his father had been looking for. But when he’d sat down in her booth at the blood drive, Brent quickly realized that she was different. He liked her. He had never been a fan of her smoking, or the fact that she could put down a pack a day, but he tolerated it. Everything else about her was stimulating and the first time they’d slept together he’d sworn it was the best he’d ever had—and meant it. Sarah had proved to be as crazy as she looked in the sheets and it was a far cry from what he was used to. Everythingabouther was a far cry from what he was used to.

The longer they’d dated, the more eager his father became, and then last year Conrad had visited Brent’s high-rise apartment in the fancier part of the city and gave him a diamond the size of Manhattan to put on her finger. Brent had initially refused and wanted to propose only when he felt certain Sarah was the one. He wanted that moment in his life to be just as special for him as it was for whoever he chose to be his wife. His father never cared. Sarah was a job. A job gone awry. And the only person that benefited from this job was his father. Brent still didn’t evenknow the reason he was asked to do this in the first place. There was plenty about the senator—dark, heinous shit—that even his own son didn’t know … and didn’twantto know.

The only thing in this apartment that he could possibly deign to get anything valuable from was Sarah’s laptop. In the short time he’d been at the hospital tonight, he’d spotted it sitting under her books on the cart next to her bed. There was nothing more he could think to do here, short of tearing the whole place apart. He wasn’t doing that shit just to come up empty. Brent blew out a frustrated breath and set up any misplaced items back in their rightful place, threw on his jacket, and left.

Rhaena knew her chewing was driving him as crazy as the sound of his stupid chair made her. She made sure to be as obnoxious as possible as she stuffed another greasy french fry into her mouth. Athan side-eyed her as he stared at his monitor.

“I don’t know how you have room for how much shit you eat in a day,” he finally said without looking at her.

“Oh, he speaks.” Rhaena grinned, curling another fry between her teeth. “It only took you three hours.”

“I’m busy.” She picked up an overcooked bit and threw it at him, hitting him just below his eye. Athan whirled at her. “What, Rhaena?”

“What is with you today? Are we gonna talk about this case? Maybe include your partner in some of this mysterious work?”

“I told you we’d talk about it later.”

“Itislater, asshole.” She went to sip from her tumbler and found it empty … again. Athan turned back to his computer as she unnervingly raised from her chair and stomped off to the break room. She watched him through the blinds for a moment and dropped her mouth open when she saw him lean over her take-out box, steal a french fry, and ease back into his seat. Athan looked around and held it to his nose, sneering at it before biting the end off and chewing. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing as he swallowed it down and finished the rest. She snapped out of it and cursed when she realized her cup had started overflowing with chilled water and made quick work of cleaning the mess before rushing back to her desk.

Athan wiped the grease from his fingers on his ripped jeans. Any evidence of what she’d just seen disappeared. She stared a hole through the side of his face until he glanced toward her. “Please, stop. It’s fucking annoying.”

“Let’s call it a night, bud.”

“I’ve still got an hour left. I’ve got shit to do.”

“Yeah, you got that right.” Rhaena stood, pulling on her blazer, and turning off the monitor. “Let’s go. We need to talk. And this time, youareriding with me.” She clacked around the edge of Athan’s desk and shoved past him, switching off his computer and glancing down at the filehe tried to close before she saw it. She slammed her palm down, keeping the folder open and stared down at the girl in the photo. “Who is she?”

“She’s our vic. Weren’t you in the same room earlier?”

“Who is she toyou?” Rhaena was so close their noses nearly touched and Athan scooted back, his eyes becoming an ice blue flame as he shot out of his chair. He swiped the folder from beneath her hand and shoved it into his desk drawer, grabbing his keys as he stormed toward the elevator. She followed him, snatching her dinner and her cup as she rounded her desk. They stepped inside with two other uniforms and said nothing to one another even on the way through the parking lot. Athan didn’t argue, to her surprise, as he waited for her to unlock the door to the truck.

“If anything happens to my bike …” he growled, slamming the door shut.

“Would you relax, dude?”

Rhaena threw the truck in reverse and backed out of her parking spot, squealing the tires as she sped out onto the street. Car horns sounded all around them at her lack of consideration for traffic. Athan didn’t flinch. His arm hung from the “oh-shit” handle above the window, and he stared forward as she periodically glanced his way. After a few miles of silence, Rhaena pulled into a drive-thru at a burger joint downtown.

“You can’t possibly be that famished.”

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