Page 61 of Falcon's Prey

Be safe.

I couldn’t keep my hands still. I took a deep breath, wanting to believe things were finally looking up, but happily ever afters had never been in the cards for me before, and I didn’t know why it would start now.

“Here. The doctor paid for this,” the chick said, putting a cup of tea and a sandwich in front of me.

Moisture gathered around my eyes at his generosity, making me feel ashamed, ungrateful, spoiled.

My hand shook as I went to grab the tea. I had thirty minutes. As I waited for the time to pass, I kept digging in the bag. There was a clutch inside with a few hundred-dollar bills and pieces of jewelry inside. My favorite perfume, a pack of gum—and my heart stopped beating for a second when I touched the small pen containing my wax. The need to hit it overrode everything else. It wasn’t what I craved, but it was enough to calm the thirst I had. At the bottom of the bag I found a pair of clothes, and in the pocket of the jeans was a small black burner phone.

In this day and age, you never notice how voiceless you are until you go dark. When there’s no phone by you. When there’s Wi-Fi, but you can’t log on. It’s a desperate feeling, knowing it’s so easy for everyone else to have a voice except for you.

Opening the small phone, I noticed it was three minutes to five. My nerves shot up, my skin went through flashes, and I shot up in my seat, going straight for the women’s bathroom this time. My hands started to shake as I brought the dab pen to my mouth. I took one long drag, then another and let myself relax a little.

I was going to remove my makeup, but I figured it would help me blend in to go wherever I went to next. I did remove the dress. Underneath, I had black leggings and my black shirt. The temperature had probably gotten chillier, but I was going to have to survive like this, at least for tonight.

Once the smell of THC had cleared, I opened the door, getting ready to meet the man who would kill Silas.

My hands shook, and I held on to the door for support. The blood drained from my face, and I felt cold. How stupid was I to think I could escape. I looked up again, hoping he wasn’t standing there with a dark grin on his face.

“Did you think you could hide from me?”

You Can Run But You Can’t Hide

Ember heldon to the frame of the door as if that would stop me from barging in and collecting her. She looked like death, and I found it amusing. A crown of black roses adorned her head, and it was just too fitting that she looked ready for her own funeral. She wanted pain. I would give her hell.

I didn’t knowwhat was worse: to die at the hands of Silas or beg Ren for redemption after what I did to him. Betrayal cut deep, and I was past begging any man to let me live.

He stood on the other side of the door, a dark grin on his face. He was the Ren I remembered, yet there was something that was off, and he didn’t look like my Ren. Not that he was ever mine, but he looked sharper. Maybe it was the fact that he no longer sported his beard. His face was smooth, exposing a strong jaw. I dug my fingers into the doorframe to stop myself from reaching over and feeling his skin.

I took a deep breath.

I remembered the last words he’d said to me. I heard them on my lonely nights, knowing that if Silas didn’t finish me off, Ren would.

“Did you think you could hide from me?” His smoky tone fogged my brain, and I remembered how it felt as I lost a part of myself in him.

Right now, I had no time for him and his vendetta. Without saying a word, I went past him, hoping he wouldn’t cause a scene at the cafe. He let me go, but I felt him at my back.

My eyes scanned the shop to see if any newcomers had arrived. I looked at the clock, and it was five past five. As soon as I got to the table, I was trying to think of my next move when Ren stopped right behind me. I could feel his breath in my ear, my back heating with his proximity.

Chills went down my spine as he went to move my hair out of the way. His lips moved against my ear, and then he made my world shake.

“Tell me, princess, are you ready to get dirty and lie in blood?”

I turned around, facing his chest. My eyes slowly trailed up as I remembered the conversation we’d had months ago.

He’d shed the lambskin he wore, and I saw him for what he truly was: a predator, and I was his prey. A prey that came willingly and blindly to him. What I saw of him was only what he allowed, a fraction of the man he was. The edge was still there, but now it was lethal.

I pushed him off me and ran out of the shop. This was not happening. He’d lied to me, used me, and betrayed me.

I was heaving by the time I rounded the corner into an alley.

How?

Why?

This wasn’t happening!

Something was wrong. This had to be some sort of sick joke.

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