Page 17 of Chasing Danger

As I opened the folder, Gavriil slipped in behind the wheel and started the car.

“Keep looking,” I said as I glanced over the picture of Oliver on the first page. “Shawn also seemed like an ordinary civilian, right up until he tried to kill me. Oh, and while you’re at it, get me everything there is to know about Spinal Muscular Atrophy.”

If Eva or Gavriil found this request strange, they knew better than to question it, and I was left to read in peace.

The picture of Oliver wasn’t very good. The harsh lighting threw his scars into stark relief and dulled the colors of his eyes. Scowling at it, I quickly turned the page. Most of the folder contained information I already knew, but one page stuffed right in the middle of everything caught my eye.

“Oh, now this is interesting.”

CHAPTER 8

Oliver

“No, Ashes, you don’t understand,”I practically shouted as I tugged at my hair. “What the hell was I thinking, agreeing to this.”

Ashes sat hunched over their workbench, meticulously bending a wire with a pair of pliers into a complex Celtic knot. In middle school, Ashes had adopted the Goth aesthetic and never let it go. Even now, at the age of twenty-two, they still dressed in all black with spikes and chains for decoration and several tattoos along their arms. Their hair was dyed a black so dark it looked blue and hung in a messy disarray that ended just past their chin.

I remembered the first time I helped Ashes dye their hair. We’d made a mess with the cheap box dye and gotten in so much trouble. After years of practice, they’d gotten much better at coloring their hair. So much so, that even I often forgot their hair wasn’t naturally that color.

At first glance, many people mistook my friend for some sort of satanic cultist who tortured animals in their backyard. Mostwould never know that Ashes was actually one of the nicest souls I’d ever met, and the only thing they ever tortured was their soldering iron when they obsessed over a new jewelry project.

Even now, they were barely listening to me, too focused on their latest creation. However, I’d already repeated myself so many times that they knew just how to respond, even if they weren’t paying attention.

“You agreed to the date ‘cause the guy was hot, and Rowan would love the opportunity to get out of the house and do something fun.”

“Yeah, I know.” With a huff, I threw myself down on the ratty couch in the far corner of the workshop. “And that’s all still true, but what am I doing? I haven’t been on a date in...”

“High school senior year,” Ashes reminded me without looking up from their work. “Jaxson Miller.”

“Oh, God. Right.” I pressed a pillow over my face, hoping it would smother me. “That was a nightmare.”

Ashes snorted and their pliers slipped off the wire they were working with. Putting everything down, they finally looked up at me. A jeweler’s loupe sat on the bridge of their nose, a tool they often used when working with particularly intricate pieces, and it made one of their eyes look comically bigger than the other.

“Nightmare? That’s an understatement. The guy went out with you on a dare, like the cliché villain in a teen movie. His friends were secretly following behind and recording you.”

The pillow hit the floor with a swirl of dust when I threw it at Ashes. “Yes, I know. Thank you for reminding me why I shouldnever trust people. Especially not with my brother. Remember that other guy I dated for, like, a week. What was his name?”

“Robert something-or-other.”

“Right. Forgot. I tried to block every memory of him from my mind after he only pretended to be nice to my brother as a way to get me to sleep with him. Ugh. Ableist bastard.”

The couch bounced when Ashes sat next to me, carefully storing the jeweler’s loupe in their pocket so I could clearly see both their eyes. “But that was all High School shit. It happened years ago. This guy isn’t some stupid teen. He’s probably a lot more mature than any of them were. How old is he anyway?”

“I don’t even know that much about him. Literally, all I know is his first name.” I fished my phone out of my pocket and shoved it at my friend. “Here. I managed to snap a pic when he wasn’t looking. What’d you think?”

Ashes took the phone, studying it this way and that, before a grin spread over their face. “This guy’s got some real big dick energy going on.”

I slapped their shoulder, accidentally nicking my knuckles on one of the studs on their collar. “Ashes. Stop being a thirsty bitch and help me.”

“Fine, fine,” they agreed, though they continued to chuckle to themselves. “Well, judging by the way his hair gets a little lighter on the sides, I think there might be some gray hidden in that lush darkness. He’s probably a little older than he seems. I’m guessing late thirties.”

An age gap hadn’t even crossed my mind. It hadn’t mattered when there were so many other gaps between us, but now it seemed like a pressing matter.

I clutched my phone to my chest when Ashes handed it back, mindful of the cracked screen. “Is that too much? I’m only twenty-two. No wonder he seemed so much more self-assured than the other guys I’ve gone out with. He’s probably got plenty of experience. I’ve never even dated someone more than a few weeks. What could I offer that would interest him?”

Ashes grabbed my chin and forced me to look at them. “Hey. You’re spiraling. Focus.”

For a moment, I swore I could feel the heat of fire on my skin, but I knew it was only an illusion brought on by my heightened emotions. I sucked in a few deep breaths, slowly counting them out in my head, and felt my pulse calm down.