Page 142 of Riordan's Revenge

Hugs! Cassie.

Brief,to the point, damning. God, it fucking hurt.

Rain pattered down, dampening the paper like tears I’d never shed. I hadn’t been able to cry when Mum died. Not when my sister sobbed herself to sleep every night and neighbours and friends dabbed at wet eyes. Mine had stayed dry.

I shoved the note and Mum’s letter back into my pocket.

One day, I’d burn both when I was ready to let go.

For a long minute, I just breathed, watching the river’s swelling tide creep up the steep banks on its rush into the city.

Something churned in my gut. A sense of deep worry over Cassie, out there somewhere and vulnerable.

She had countless people who were there for her, but none of them cared as much as me. None of them loved her so fiercely as I did, with a hole in my chest and an exposed heart.

She was no one’s top priority. Yet even if she didn’t want me, she was still mine.

In the most secret part of my heart, another thought stirred.

Though Mum hadn’t been able to tell me she was going, Cassie could. I needed to hear it from her lips.

Switching my phone back on, I called up her tracker, dismissing the countless calls and messages that crowded my screen the second I went off Do Not Disturb.

The blip pinged deep in Four Miler territory.

Fuck, what was she doing there? What the hell was Arran doing, taking her into that shitshow?

Anger broke over me, and I leapt to my feet, swiping over to my phone app as I got onto my bike and revved the engine, the sound breaking through the quiet with an anger that matched how I felt inside.

Setting out, I dialled Arran from one of the multiple missed calls from him. I’d ignored all contact since last night.

He answered immediately. “Jesus. Where are you both?”

My venom died on my tongue. I rolled off the dirt track to descend the hill back to the river road. “What do you mean ‘both’?”

“You and Cassie. We’re regrouping at the warehouse. I’ve called everyone back.” To someone else, he yelled, “Got Riot on the line.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Scottish tones returned over my headphones, one of Cassie’s brothers.

My stomach gutted out. “Cassie isn’t with me. She broke up with me. I haven’t seen her since last night when she was out with Shade.”

Silence met my words, then my boss swore a blue streak, ending with, “Where is she?”

“Her tracker says rival fucking gang territory,” I yelled and accelerated hard, banking out around a tight bend. “How the fuck did you allow it? I’m going after her.”

Arran swore again. “Not without us. Get back here.”

I gritted my teeth, but he was right. Alone, I was less effective. With my crew, I had a better chance. “Be there in ten,” I snapped and got the hell on my way.

My bike’s engine snarled as I cut through the traffic, weaving in and out of lanes on my route upriver and back into Deadwater.

Between heartbeats and raindrops, I tried to remember to breathe.

Beyond theWelcome to Deadwatersign, fire engines screamed past, heading up the hill to one of the suburbs. Police cars zipped into town, none troubling me.

Outside the warehouse, I screeched to a halt, leaving my bike haphazardly parked. Struan waited by the rear exit, his typically stern expression replaced by one of pain and worry. The moment I was through the door, he directed me up the steps.

“Arran’s office. We’re mobilising.”

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