Page 33 of Gatsby's Starlet
Then I moved to the door, reaching for the lock and froze.
Kane.
He sat on his bike across the street like he’d been there a while, like he wasn’t even trying to hide it, and when he saw me looking, he smiled and lifted a hand in a lazy wave.
My stomach dropped.
I locked the door fast, turned without thinking, and headed for the back, my fingers tightening around my purse as I pushed through—and ran straight into something solid.
Arms caught me before I could stumble back.
“Easy now,” Kane said, too close, his hands tight on me like he had every intention of keeping them there. “Wouldn’t want you gettin’ hurt.”
I jerked away from him, putting space between us as fast as I could. “Why are you following me?”
“Drago wanted you watched,” he said like it was nothing. Like it should make sense. “I volunteered.”
My stomach twisted. “Why do I need to be watched?”
He tilted his head, stepping closer again, slow, deliberate. “Now, Evie… that should be obvious, shouldn’t it?” His fingers came up, brushing lightly against my nose like we were playing some kind of game. “Cute thing like you.”
I slapped his hand away. “I have to go.”
I tried to move past him, but his grip closed around my arm, firm enough to stop me cold.
“Headed to see that slicked-back Devil’s House trash?” he asked, his tone turning hard in a way that made my skin crawl.
I met his stare, even if my pulse had started to jump. “Guess if you’re following me, you’ll find out.”
That earned a low laugh. “Got a little fire in you,” he said. “I like that.”
“Can I leave now?” I asked, my eyes dropping pointedly to where he still held my arm.
For a second, he didn’t move. Then he let go. “I won’t be far behind,” he said, stepping back just enough to let me pass. “And I’m sure Ruby’ll tell you, but Drago wants you at the clubhouse tomorrow night. Check-in.”
Check-in.
Like I was something that needed reporting on.
I didn’t answer. Just nodded once and kept moving, forcing myself not to run as I reached my car, my hands already shaking as I slid behind the wheel and shut the door.
The second I was alone, the air hit different, too thin, too tight, and I gripped the steering wheel, trying to steady my breathing.
I couldn’t do this. I just… couldn’t. Ruby had to see it. Had to understand what this really was before it got worse, before we got in too deep to get out.
How could she not see it?
How could she be so wrapped up in him that she didn’t realize what we were standing in?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THE SCAR ALONGmy jaw pulled when I shifted it, a tight, familiar stretch that settled in with the rain like it always did, as if the weather remembered what had been done to me even when I didn’t allow myself to linger on it, and I stood at the window with one hand braced against the frame, working the stiffness loose while my reflection stared back from the glass, faint, warped by the darkness outside, but clear enough to remind me of what was left.
Mystic had done his job well. Just not well enough, because I was still breathing.Barely, for a time, something close to it, something that passed for living if you didn’t look too closely, but I had always been hard to kill, and that had been his mistake.
I exhaled slowly and let my jaw settle, the ache fading into something manageable, something known, because pain like this didn’t matter anymore, not the kind that could be measured,not the kind that faded if you gave it time, it was the other kind that stayed, the kind that didn’t leave no matter how deep you buried it.
Behind me, the room sat in controlled silence, ordered in a way that didn’t belong to men like me, where noise and movement were usually constant, where chaos lived just beneath the surface, and yet up here there was none of that, just stillness, just space, just enough quiet to let memory in whether I wanted it or not.
