She’s hiding something. As I watched Stevie walk back into the living room, the nagging thought reared its ugly head again. Since her arrival, I’ve had my people meticulously research everything there is to know about Stephanie Alexander.

According to the sealed records I called in favors for, she had a pretty tumultuous childhood. Her father died when she was eight years old. Child protective services called on her behalf at least a dozen times before age thirteen. Orphaned at fifteen. From ages sixteen to eighteen she was in and out of juvie for a slew of charges, including petty theft and more than a few cases of physical assault. At nineteen there were a few medical bills from a lengthy hospital stay, but no record of what took place. Since then, her record has been virtually spotless. She’s laid low and even held a job for the last few years at a local coffee shop. Still, something didn’t add up.

As I scrolled through her court documents on my phone, the other phone in my pocket vibrated with a new notification. I ignored the disruption and went back to scrolling. I’d had her phone for less than twenty-four hours and there hasn’t been a single hour that has gone by without a fucking text or call. Worst of all, every single notification was from some dude named Alex. Who the fuck was this guy?

I heard about the crazy shit she pulled with Ez, so Alex being her boyfriend was pretty unlikely. He was probably just some pussy-whipped ex-client distraught over the fact that he’d never get to touch her again.

It crossed my mind to peek at the messages, but I ignored them instead. Snooping through her phone was beneath me and my people already hand-delivered all the pertinent information. Something about her just felt… off.

Chancing another glance at her while Ez and Cyrus bickered, my eyes latched onto the purplish bruise marring the side of her face. I hadn’t noticed it before, but it didn’t come as a surprise. Cyrus told me about the scars on her body and the fresh wound on her arm. I checked our cameras and while one guard, who we would deal with personally, got too fucking touchy with her; all evidence showed that she arrived with the wound. Someone from her old life was hurting her and probably had been for some time.

The need for vengeance burrowed under my skin. No amount of violence or retribution would ever change what happened to her, but that didn’t stop me from wanting to find the person responsible and deliver the fuck’s head on a platter.

I almost asked her for a name. The words danced on the tip of my tongue. But before I could get them out, my dark thoughts got in the way.

Just what the fuck was I expecting to happen?

Even if, by some miracle, she gave me a name, and I found the fucker who gave her those scars. Then what? Would I profess my need to kill him because he hurt her? Would I tell her that since she walked through that fucking door, I haven’t been able to stop obsessing over her?

No. I’d keep my mouth shut, just like I always did. And she’d think I was a just psychopath with a thirst for blood. I was better off staying out of whatever the hell was going on with her. She didn’t give a fuck about me, and her problems weren’t mine to handle.

“Ready?” Cyrus asked, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I waited for Stevie’s inevitable rebuttal but when nothing came from her mouth and she continued to stare at the blank wall, three of eyes glared at her. In the little time we had gotten to know her, silence was not one of her strong suits. Something was wrong.

“Is there a problem?” She asked, her voice lifeless.

“No,” Ez offered, piercing his eyes at her, “but you’re coming with us.”

Cyrus and I both looked at him like he was the stupidest motherfucker on the planet. We agreed to stop by to check on her. That was it. We never agreed to bring her with us.

“Okay.” She said, moving towards the door, as her hunted eyes focused on anything but the three of us.

Ez loved playing with his toys, but even he had to know that bringing her to Hell’s Tavern wasn’t a fucking game. It would be like throwing her to the lions.

I wanted to stop him, but when the crazy fuck sets his mind on something, there was no talking him out of it. I just hoped that for her sake, she could still fight like she did when she was sixteen.

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