1
Sophie
Ishouldn’t be here. Like,reallyshouldn’t be here. It was unnecessarily dangerous without backup, and as much as I prided myself on being tough, I was a five-foot-four woman with a penchant for revenge that was bound to land me in serious trouble.
And right now, I was moments away from said trouble. The engine hummed softly beneath my fingertips, the only sound breaking the stillness of the cold night. I had cut the headlights, but the dashboard cast a dim glow across my clenched fists as I gripped the wheel, pulse hammering in my ears. Across the street, a rundown townhome slouched between two boarded-up buildings, its porch light flickering weakly as though it was on life support. With it being the only light on the street, complete darkness would cloak the neighborhood if it went out altogether.
This was their hideout—crumbling bricks, shattered windows, the faint bass of a distant TV leaking through thin walls. I hadbeen parked here for nearly an hour, watching, waiting. For movement. For a mistake. For any excuse to storm inside and demand justice for my father’s death.
So far, nothing.
A harsh ringing broke the silence, startling me out of my laser-focused vigil. Grimacing at my phone’s caller ID, I let it go to voicemail. After a moment, the trilling began again. This time I silenced my phone and put it on Do Not Disturb so I wouldn’t have to answer to my ex-boyfriend.
Dean and I broke up months ago, and despite that, we were still trying to be friends—though more often than not, it turned into late night booty calls or rehashing the same arguments. Toxic, to say the least, but at least I was getting laid.
Tonight, however, I didn’t have the energy to hear him lecture me on the dangers of my desperation to close my father’s case.
It’s not like anyone else was.
I needed to give my mom closure—hell, I needed to give myself closure. Right now, my father haunted my childhood home, his presence thick in the air like the scent of his old cigars that never quite faded from the walls. My mother refused to leave because it was where they had built their life together, where she swore she could still feel him.
I could, too, but I felt him differently. Not in the warmth of old memories, but in the suffocating weight pressing against my chest every time I stepped through the door. In the way my stomach twisted whenever I walked past his old leather recliner, untouched and gathering dust like a shrine. In the restless nights where I jolted awake, heart racing, convinced I had heard his voice whisper my name.
I thought maybe his soul lingered there because we had yet to uncover the full truth of his death… and maybe because he wanted to reassure me that it hadn't been my fault.
Even though, deep down, it felt like it was. Like I had failed him. Like no matter how much justice I tried to chase, I would never outrun the cold grip of guilt that coiled inside me, reminding me of the night I’d found his body battered and beaten and begged him to hold on for just a little longer.
Finally, just after ten, one of the killers appeared on the stoop, and my hand instinctively flew to the car door handle. Stomach twisting, I climbed out of the car. My knees trembled as I took a step closer, the palm of my left hand resting on the butt of my holstered gun, hidden under my jacket.
God, this was so fucking stupid. I didn’t even have a plan. What was I thinking?
Well, that was easy: vengeance. Rational thought? Out the fucking window when it came to my dad’s case. But then again, my impulsive actions often got me into precarious situations. I wasn’t exactly a clean cop, and I certainly didn’t uphold the strict by-the-books mentality. I preferred whatever method made the most sense.
Which was how I'd convinced myself that this was the best way to handle my father’s killers. It’s not like I hadn’t killed before; this was just in an…unofficialcapacity. And completely outside of my jurisdiction. Was it murder, or vigilante justice?
Another man appeared behind the first, adjusting his suit jacket and tie. I paused as I assessed the situation. I hadn’t anticipated there being a visitor; Victor Chavez was known to be a recluse outside of his role in the cartel life.
Still cloaked in darkness, I hadn’t been noticed yet. There was still time for me to scurry back to my car and forget I ever came here.
The man in the suit started speaking to the killer, Victor Chavez, his voice a low rumble that I could hear from down the sidewalk. I couldn’t make out the words, but I watched them warily, nonetheless. Mr. Suit was handsome—no, he wasgoddamn gorgeous—but the fact that he was fraternizing with a thieving, murdering, low-life gangster soiled that real quick.
Of course, before I could decide to turn back, Mr. Suit’s eyes lifted to mine, and even in the darkness between us, I could see them glitter mysteriously. I gulped, then flinched as a streetlight flickered back to life and illuminated where I was standing. Mr. Suit’s eyes narrowed as he got a good look at me, and—
Shit.I knew this was a bad idea, but I just couldn’t stop myself.
They shook hands, but I didn’t stick around to see what became of their conversation as I bolted back toward my car, praying I could make it before anything happened. Like a shootout, or curiosity into my family that put them in danger.
No such luck.
The sound of a gun cocking had me freezing. I threw my hands in the air as a show of innocence as I slowly turned. Mr. Suit stood mere feet from me with a Glock aimed between my eyes. From the cold, detached look on his face, I knew if I reached for my gun, I was as good as gone.
“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice lethal and commanding.
I jutted my chin out stubbornly. “What’s it to you?” I snapped.
One side of his lips curled up, and I fought to remain impassive.Seriously? He’s smirking?
“I like to know who’s sulking around my neighborhood so late at night packing heat.” His eyes trailed down my face, throat, chest—lingering a little too long there for comfort—before stopping at my midsection. I dared a glance down and mentally cursed myself for forgetting to remove the detective badge hanging around my neck.
