Page 34 of Heroes & Hitmen
Either she’s not here, or she’s not mine.
I get in my truck and start it up. Grip the wheel and shift into drive. Do a shitty three-point turn, branches scraping the sides of my truck, then take off down the road, not looking back.
While the drive from the Tower to the preserve felt like it took an eternity, the trip back feels short in comparison. Maybe it’s because I’ve turned off the spiraling thoughts pinging around in my brain, instead sinking into the feeling of hollowness that’s settled over me.
The Tower appears in the distance, a stark monolith of metal and stone rising out of the concrete. I pull into the underground parking garage, swallowed whole by shadows and flickering lights,the sound of my tires echoing off the pillars and walls. The place is eerily quiet and empty, everyone still off enjoying their full moon run.
I pull into a spot, shift into park, and kill the engine, letting the silence settle for a beat before climbing out of my truck. The overhead lights buzz faintly, casting long, yellowish shadows over everything. My boots hit the ground hard as I head for the elevator bank, each step echoing like a heartbeat in the hollow concrete tomb.
I’m halfway there when something in me halts. My wolf sits up, alert and coiled, stopping me dead in my tracks as a prickle moves down my spine.
I’m not alone down here.
My hackles raise as I glance around, scanning the rows of parked cars. Nothing looks out of place at first, but then I see it– a reflection in the side mirror of a silver sedan. A shadow in the driver’s seat that doesn’t belong.
I move in closer to investigate, heart stuttering in my chest when I make out the features of the person sitting behind the wheel in the side mirror. The same face I’ve been looking for all night.
She’s sitting there motionless, engine off, windows rolled up. Her outline is faint in the dim glow of the garage lights, barely more than a silhouette, but I’d recognize Miley anywhere.
It’sher.
She’shere.
I approach slowly, cautious not to spook her. She doesn’t look up as I near the car. Doesn’t move as I raise my hand and rap my knuckles gently against the glass.
Then she startles, head snapping toward me. Her eyes are wide and wild, body tensed up like a scared animal that’s been caught in a trap.
My inner wolf surges forward with a snarl.
“Open up,” I say, voice low but firm.
She doesn’t respond. Doesn’t even blink. Just turns her head and stares straight ahead, her breathing shallow.
I glance over my shoulder, verifying that we’re alone down here. Then I knock again, more urgently this time.
“Miley,” I growl, Alpha command seeping into my tone.
She exhales slowly, jaw tight, eyes still on the dashboard. Then she turns to pop the lock and pushes the door open.
I step back so she can get out, watching intently as she swivels to set her feet on the ground and pushes to stand. Her movements are stiff and mechanical, like a doll forced to play its part. Her face is pale, eyes wide and tinged with fear. She still hasn’t said a word.
“What happened?” I demand, my voice coming out more forceful than I intend.
She doesn’t answer. Doesn’t look at me.
I step forward anyway, reaching out to cradle her face in both hands, tipping it toward me so I can see her properly. Her eyes are glassy but dry, skin cold and clammy. Expression locked in that neutral, vacant place she retreats to when she doesn’t want to be touched or seen.
“Miley,” I say again, softer this time.
Her breath catches as violet-grey eyes meet mine, her lips parting to speak.
Then the screech of tires splits the silence as another vehicle enters the garage. My head snaps up to see a black SUV swinging around the corner, too fast for a space this tight. The headlights flash across Miley’s pale face, illuminating us in the shadows as the vehicle slams to a stop and the door flies open. My hands are still clutching Miley’s face as the SUV’s door slams, boots hitting the concrete in heavy, measured steps.
Alpha Gage storms toward us, his expression carved from stone, fury radiating off him in waves. His eyes lock on his daughter first, then on me. I feel the shift in the air like static before a lightning strike, the threat unspoken but unmistakable.
Miley flinches, instinctively stepping closer.
“Stay behind me,” I murmur as I swivel around, holding eye contact with Alpha Gage as he closes the distance.
