Page 87 of My Unhinged Alphas
“But you won’t.”
“No.”
“Why?”
That’s the question, isn’t it? Why her? Why this weird, irritating pull toward a girl who looks like she should belong in a library and somehow keeps ending up in the worst rooms with the worst men?
Why did I notice her at all? Why am I still noticing her now?
I don’t give her the real answer, mostly because I don’t have one.
“The Brotherhood isn’t done with you,” I say.I’m not done with you.
After a moment, she mutters, “Second building on the right.”
We roll to a stop in front of it.
It’s a narrow apartment building wedged between two older ones, four floors, with peeling cream paint and rust marksunder the balconies. A fluorescent tube light flickers above the entrance, making the front step look tired and washed out. There’s a dented letterbox unit by the gate, a scooter parked half on the pavement, and someone’s sandals left by the stairwell door. A window on the first floor is lit, curtains moving slightly in the fan breeze inside. Ordinary. Forgettable. The kind of place that tries very hard to mind its own business.
She reaches for the handle, then hesitates. For a second I think she’s going to say something else. Another question. Another jab. Something snarky to reclaim a little ground before she goes.
Instead she just says, “You really are going to let me leave.”
I look at her. “Tonight.”
She doesn’t like that answer. I can see it in the way her mouth tightens. But she opens the door anyway and steps out, shutting it more gently than I expected.
Then she walks toward the entrance without looking back.
I stay where I am. Watching.
She knows I’m watching. I can tell from the way her shoulders hold, a little too straight, a little too aware. She fumbles once in her pocket for her keys, finds them, glances over her shoulder at last.
Our eyes meet through the windshield. Only for a second.
Then she turns, unlocks the door, and slips inside the building.
I keep looking at the entrance even after she disappears. The fluorescent light keeps flickering. Somewhere above, a tap drips steadily onto concrete. The watchman in the next building shifts in his sleep. Life goes on around it, dull and ordinary, like tonight didn’t happen at all.
My hands are still on the wheel.
An hour passes that way. Maybe more. Long enough for the tea stall down the lane to shut. Long enough for the stray dogs to settle. Long enough for me to admit I’m not here by accident.
She’s already in it now, whether she understands that or not. The Brotherhood won’t leave her alone. Not after tonight. Not after the dead man. Not after the questions that are already starting to circle.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
Knox:Where are you?
I stare at the message for a second, then look back at the building one last time.
The little lamb has no idea what’s coming. But I do.
And I’ve made up my mind.
If the Brotherhood comes for her, they’ll have to go through me first.
Chapter 14
