And what do I have left, really? My job is probably gone. My ex is still out there, picking apart the remains of my life one thread at a time.
Can something—anything—just go right for once?
He’s waiting, staring through my soul like he can already see the answer.
I flick on the lights, the harrowing brightness temporarily blinding me. I catch the way his eyes graze over my swollen face, probably judging my mess of a life the way everyone else does.
“You need to talk. Until you tell me what you know about my friend and where she is, you’re not going anywhere. And in case you haven’t noticed, my life is falling apart anyway, so if I was you, I’d be smart. ‘Cos the person you should fear most is the one with nothing left to lose.”
He’s thinking. Probably weighing his odds. But deep down, he knows I’m right—he should be a hell of a lot more afraid of me than I am of him right now.
“You do realise, if I tell you… there’s no walking away from this?” His gaze hardens. “Once you know, you’re in it. All the way.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” I mutter, brushing off the theatrics like I always do. Foresight’s never really been my strong suit.
“I run a company that targets sex trafficking networks,” he says. “Manticore—the ones who took your friend—are our current priority. They abduct women and sell them to the highest bidder. And once someone vanishes into that system, they don’t come back.”
I freeze.
“We dismantle them from the inside out,” he goes on, voice steady now. “And your friend… she was supposed to be my way in. Until you knocked me out cold and set the whole thing on fire.”
“Well, if that’s true how did they find her in the first place?”
“You’re friend hasn’t got good choice in one-night stands, let put it that way.”
Damn her. I think I know exactly who’s behind this. I remember the way she spoke about him the next day—mysterious, charming, thick Eastern European accent. She thought it was thrilling at the time, romantic even. Until he vanished without a trace.
We figured he ghosted her. Turns out his version of ghosting comes with a far darker subtext.
Just one more reason I don’t pick up strangers in bars. At least I have the sense to do a background check first.
“Alright,” I say, swallowing down the knot rising in my throat. “Let’s say you’re telling the truth. I intercepted you, and now my friend’s out there, alone. How do I get her back?”
He laughs—deep and sudden, a full-bodied sound straight from his chest.
Apparently, my desperation’s the funniest thing he’s heard all day.
“Oh, you’re serious.”
My expression doesn’t flicker—not a crack of amusement anywhere.
“You really are trouble aren’t you?… You don’t bring her back. That kind of extraction takes precision. Skill. Training thatyoudon’t have. That’s my team’s job—if it’s even possible. And between you and me?” I lean in just a fraction, feeling drawn toevery word. “I’ve never pulled anyone back from that black hole. Not once.”
My gaze lingers on his, waiting for the punch line.
“You should be less worried about saving her, and more worried about staying alive. Manticore hunts in pairs. Always has. And if there’s one thing years of chasing them has taught me—it’s that you’re next.”
I wait for a telltale sign he’s lying, that this is just a scary story he’s retelling to scare me into setting him free. But there’s nothing, just his dark intense gaze.
“And what, if I let you go where does that get me? Then I’ll just be alone and waiting to be captured. At least if I keep you here, I have something that might deter them.”
“If you let me go, I might be able to get to the bottom of their plans before it’s too late. Unless of course youwantto be kidnapped and sold for sex? Whatever floats your boat.”
Is he just telling me what I want to hear?
Probably.
But what other choice do I have?
