Page 112 of Nemesis

It did, but the memory—and the residual pain—still lingers.

After everything else I signed up for, the last decade of my life, nothing has come close to breaking my nose. Not the bar fights, or when I graduated to cage fights. Not when I was deployed and forced into close-quarter combat.

“You fought Kade,” Saint says. “Did he recognize you?”

I sigh. I knew the questions would circle back to him. I point to the shot glass, and Saint dutifully takes it. He puts his hand flat on the table, steadying himself, and grins.

We’re going to be blasted by the time either of us quit.

“He did after we started, but then it was too late. He likes a fight too much to pull out.”

Saint snickers. “That’s what she said.”

I eye him. “You ever fuck Artemis?”

He goes still.

Got you, fucker.

“Once,” he admits. “You?”

“Once,” I echo. I don’t want to say it, but the single word just slips out.

It’s a lie, though.

It was more than once.

I stand, brushing off my thighs. “I need air.”

He nods and leans back in his seat, his eyes already drooping. “Good. Any more alcohol and I’d need my stomach pumped.”

“Eat the pizza,” I advise. I take a slice for myself. It’ll be gone before I hit the elevator.

“Yes, sir,” Saint mumbles.

Sarcastic fucker.

My legs aren’t quite steady. I can’t stop thinking about the last time I was in Sterling Falls. The last time I was herehauntsme, and coming back was a fucking test.

“You’ll like the city,”my mother said, brushing back my hair. “It’s different.”

My mouth was dry, my excitement buzzing. She sat next to me this whole trip, stroking my hair while the train sped toward Emerald Cove.

Not our final destination, it would turn out. From there, we boarded a ferry to Sterling Falls. I hadn’t been on a boat like that before, so wide and high. We’d taken little charter boats before, where I could lean over and dip my fingers into the freezing ocean water. Or kayaks on the lake.

The ferry was awe-inspiring, but I was confused.

Confused about the trip, about why we didn’t pack a lot.

Confused about my father, who seemed to be impersonating a statue. He typed on his phone, answered work calls, but otherwise didn’t move.

A black SUV awaited us at the top of the pier in Sterling Falls. The driver stood to the side with a printed sign. It wasAveryin block letters, and I glanced worriedly at my mother.

While we could—and did—afford certain luxuries, she made it seem like this was a spur-of-the-moment trip.

And yet, there was a driver.

A plan set in place that I knew nothing about.

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