Page 80 of Double Down
Steel runs under his lazy drawl. I run my tongue across my upper teeth. “You sound a little size-obsessed,” I manage to choke out.
His face goes hard for a moment before it smooths out. Something that could be mistaken for a rusty laugh wheezes out. “Cute,” he mutters. “Real cute. Here’s the thing.” He leans in, just enough that his breath grazes my temple. “People get distracted. People get taken out of the picture. Your debtors are watching. They will be paid what they’re owed.”
My fingers twitch against my thigh. “What exactly are you saying?”
He tilts his head, disappointed he has to spell it out. “I’m saying you might want to start answering your phone when you’re summoned before someone puts you at the bottom of a river. And you know what? Not even your Titans will be able to fish you out.”
Cold rolls through me, steals the vitality from every muscle and fiber in my body. I believe him. This entire performance isn’t about missing girls or my men. It’s a demonstration: it doesn’t matter how many calls go unanswered—they can still reach out and touch me.
I glance past him. Through the crack in the door I catch Maverick—still kneeling, still cuffed, still coiled to shatter.
One dirty cop can do more than touch me. He doesn’t even have to come for me directly. He can go for them. All of them.
That terrifies me more than the thought of my body dumped at the bottom of any river or left in a cold alley.
“Why are you doing this?” I take a shaky step back and hit the wall. I’m trapped, and the sick smile on his face says he knows it.
“Because I can,” he says, grinning until my knees want to buckle.
A growl attracts my gaze to the cracked door. Zeus stands on the threshold, fur bristling on the ridge of his spine, teeth bared. I click my fingers and scoop him up when he comes to me without hesitation, using the motion to hide the tremble in my fingers.
I force my voice flat, cold. He doesn’t get to see how hard he shakes me. “Are we done?”
He straightens but doesn’t back up.
“We’ll be around,” he says louder, so it carries. “Investigating the disappearance of Sarah.”
Right. Sarah. The perfect cover story.
He grabs my arm again and walks me back to the others, grip loosening just enough to look harmless. All four Titans see it. All four stare at his hand on me with murder in their eyes.
The cops leave a minute later, the door closing with an infuriatingly soft click.
The air shifts at once. Dead quiet blows open into chaos. Storm mutters under his breath. Conrad flips through the warrant like he’s hunting a legal grenade to lob later. Atticus is already on his phone, checking camera feeds for whatever they captured.
But I’m looking at Maverick.
The cuffs are gone, but angry red rings mark his wrists. His shoulders are still tight, tension radiating off him like heat. He stands, but it’s the kind of standing that means he’s holding himself back from doing something reckless. His chest still moves in counts of four.
I want to go to him. I want to get him out of this room, away from the stink of smug cops and threats wrapped in official paper. Iwant to run my hands over those marks until the only thing left on his skin is my touch.
But I don’t move. Not yet. If I take one step, all four will see what’s on my face. They’ll know that this is my fault. They’ll see the fear and the guilt.
I can’t let them see through me. Not now.
Inside my head the cop’s words repeat.
Might want to start answering your phone…not even your Titans can save you.
The debt collectors didn’t just send a message tonight. They sent it wearing a badge. They made sure I understood exactly how vulnerable I am—and what I have to lose.
Who they can take from me.
Now I know that living in this tower with these men changes nothing. They can still get to me.
They can still hurt me. I might as well still be in that broken-down trailer.
No matter where I go, or who I’m with, I am not untouchable.
