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tobesobri · 4 years ago

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Sorry this took me so long to get up 🙈It was a mix of being busy and also never being 100% satisfied with it. I’m pretty sure I spent more time editing this chapter than I did actually writing it lol but a lot happens (which is why it’s so long im sorry) and I’ve never really written so much action before (so im also sorry if it’s bad) but I just wanted to make sure it was at least decent ndkkjvfr anyway, thank you for reading if you do! i appreciate it 🖤

♠︎ warnings: death, violence, mentions of suicide, abuse, alcohol use, blood, sexual content

♣︎ word count: 15.5k

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She’s running. She knows because her lungs are burning and the bottom of her feet are thrashed but she doesn’t stop. Doesn’t stop because if she does, it will be over. She can hear them shouting her name, can feel the rope around her wrists as if it’s still tied to her. She can see a figure up ahead and she runs faster toward it, toward salvation.

But then she stops, the jolt sending her to her knees as rocks dig through her flesh. The figure becomes clear as he steps out of the shadows and all she can do is scream as he reaches out for her.

Ember’s throat felt like sandpaper as she jolted awake. The scream followed her into consciousness and as soon as she realized where she was, it stopped. Her ears rang, her mouth was dry and her eyes stung so badly she could hardly keep them open.

Then the headache settled in and she fell back onto whatever soft surface she was on. A bed? A couch? A cloud up in heaven because she was dead?

No. She would never make it upstairs if she was truly dead. And she was positive hell wasn’t this comfortable.

“You alright over there?”

She sat up despite the pounding, opening her eyes as wide as she could until it hurt and found who that voice belonged to sitting on a couch across from her, watching her carefully. He wasn’t familiar in the slightest. But the knife in his hand as he carried on sharpening it, was.

“That’s mine.”

He glanced down at the blade, considered it, then looked at her again, “You sure?”

“Yes.” She snarled. Her face was killing her. She reached up to inspect the damage only to find bandages and a single, small row of stitches along her left cheekbone.

“There’s some pills for you there. I imagine you’re in a lot of pain.” He pointed the tip of her knife at the coffee table between them, at the bottle of water, still sealed, and the small pile of pills sitting beside it. And just behind those, closer to him than to her, lay a myriad of weapons which also, in fact, belonged to her. “Advil and Tylenol. They work pretty well together.”

She ignored them and him. “Who are you?” Then she glanced around the room, realizing it was just as unfamiliar as he was. “Where am I?”

“I’ll answer your questions after you take those.” He motioned once more toward the pills and she saw no use in arguing any further. Especially since every time she glared at him, it felt like her face was being torn off. So, she grabbed all four of them, flung them into her mouth and swallowed them down with one giant gulp of water. Once she set the bottle back down, she gave him that same scowl but tried to be a little more cautious of the bruises and scrapes.

“Who are you?” She asked again.

He smiled and then proceeded to ignore her. “You sure this is your knife because… I’m not sure you know how to use it.”

“Of course I know how to use it.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, tilting his head curiously. “So then why didn’t you?”

She just looked at him for a silent moment, trying to piece together memories from last night, but there was currently nothing but a thick layer of fog surrounding them. Whatever she had done, and however he had become involved, she may not want to remember it. “What are you talking about?”

He sat forward, dropping his elbows onto his knees and letting the knife hang from his hand in between, his eyes darting around her face, probably trying to find an inch of skin that wasn’t a scarred mess to look at. But then she saw it.

Emerald green.

“I know you.” She nearly gasped once she realized where she’d seen him before. The lighting now was much better than it had been inside of Eden, but she had no doubts that he was the same man she’d seen on the balcony. Those harsh lights hadn’t done him any justice now that she was seeing him up close. He put every man she’d ever met to shame, including Ace. His short, dark brown hair had been combed back and styled at some point, but now the curls broke free and a strand fell onto his forehead as if he’d been running his hands through it all night. There were dark circles under his eyes but they didn’t even do much to disturb his beauty. They might have even added to it. His lips twitched into a smile when her roaming eyes had found his mouth and she sucked in a breath of air. “Are you following me?”

He didn’t say anything as he studied her, their gazes locked on each other and she’d never wanted to be able to read minds more than she did then—when he was quiet and had the best pokerface she’d ever seen, apart from her own of course. Being an emotionless statue came in handy more often than not, but she wasn’t sure why he was pulling it on now. What he was afraid of her reading on his face.

“Are you…” she glanced down at the coffee table, spotting both of her guns and the other two knives he’d pulled from her body at some point and then she looked down at herself, at the clothes that didn’t belong to her, that didn’t smell like her. In fact, that same smell from last night hit her when she lifted the collar of the shirt she was wearing to inspect it. It was a woodsy, masculine scent with a hint of vanilla and something else she couldn’t place. His cologne mixed with the sinful scent of his skin, she guessed. She was certain she could bathe in it for hours and never be satisfied. Distracted, she forgot to ask him what she’d originally planned to, if he was going to kill her, and instead she asked about a slightly more pressing issue.

“Where are my clothes?”

“In the garbage.” Her eyes widened. “I can get them back for you, but I don’t think the blood will come out in the wash.”

She just stared at him quietly again, trying not to be embarrassed by the fact that he’d undressed her. She wasn’t exactly modest, and as her eyes fell to his hands… she wasn’t sure how she felt about it.

Her stomach twisted into knots though imagining his hands on her skin and she quickly buried that feeling deep within the trenches of her being and pretended it’d never happened. She didn’t even know him.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see much.” The dig only made her want to punch him for a moment, because then his eyes travelled down to her left arm and as she followed his gaze, she realized what he was looking at. Ember was covered in various scars throughout the years of living the type of life she lived, but the one on her forearm, just below the crook of her elbow was different. It wasn’t there because she’d gotten herself stabbed or shot at.

It was there because of Dominic.

She quickly folded her arm towards her and blocked his view of the thing. The thing Dominic had put on her body when she was fifteen to remind her who she belonged to. Now, it was just a much more welcome reminder of her freedom. But, having some random man, regardless of his annoyingly beautiful face, see it would be giving away too much information.

Then again, if he knew what the brand on her arm meant, then he might already know too much about her.

He cleared his throat, “Besides, it’s very difficult to get blood out of these cushions.” He swiped one of his hands along the light material of the couch opposite hers and she was reminded of her earlier preoccupations. “So,” he began again, “it was necessary.”

The couch was already in a lousy state, but she imagined adding blood stains into the mix wasn’t exactly doing it any favors. When she remained quiet, he tilted his head, “Unless you would have preferred to sleep in the bathtub?”

Again, she did nothing but narrow her eyes at him and grump.

So after a few silent moments of just staring at each other, he moved on, gesturing toward the coffee table between them, “You had all of this strapped to you, and you didn’t use any of it to defend yourself.” It wasn’t a question, but she knew he was still asking one. One that she wasn’t about to answer anytime soon.

“I don’t need weapons to defend myself.” She purposefully skirted right around the hidden question he was trying to ask.

He lifted a brow and sat back again. “You weren’t exactly winning that fight you walked right into.”

“You were watching me?”

His jaw hardened. “That is hardly the point here.”

She wanted to punch him again. Instead, she nodded toward her knife he still held on to. “Are you planning on using that?”

“Depends.” He shrugged, still avoiding her questions just as she was his.

“On?” The rational part of her brain knew his threat was futile. He had plenty of opportunities to use any one of her weapons while she’d been locked away in her nightmares but he didn’t. It just bothered her that she didn’t know what he wanted, that he was too good at concealing things she was normally skilled at reading.

“On whether or not you’ll tell me what you were doing last night.”

She considered reaching for one of her weapons, not exactly sure she’d be quick enough in her current state, but it’d be worth it because he was beginning to annoy her. Deciding against it for the time being, she kept her eyes glued to his and waited for the right moment when he was distracted to make a move. “And if I don’t?”

He was quiet for a moment and then tossed her knife down onto the table with a sigh. “You were right.” He watched as her eyes widened slightly. He’d had the entire night to come up with something to tell her that she might actually believe. If she hadn’t seen him in Eden, he might get away with just being some random guy who saved her life. But she knew him, and she remembered him. And Ember wasn’t stupid, as much as he wished she was so he wouldn’t have to share so much about himself. But it was the only thing he could come up with that didn’t involve telling her he’d been hired to kill her. “I was following you.”

“What?” Her right hand moved a centimeter closer to a weapon, but when his eyes caught the movement, she froze.

He frowned when she looked up at him, then he sighed and stretched the truth, glancing once again at her arm even though the scar was still not visible to him. “I heard you were on your own now.” So… he knew who she was. “Me and my… associates were thinking about trying to recruit you. So, yes, I was following you to see if you were actually worth our time.” Even though it was all complete bullshit, he just hoped she ate it up and didn’t ask him too many questions. He hadn’t thought out everything yet, just the basic details. His so-called associates didn’t even know, but considering he planned on never seeing Ember again after today, he figured it wouldn’t really matter anyway.

“Who says I’d even want to work with you? There’s a reason I’m on my own.”

He tilted his head to one side and his eyes traveled across the scrapes he’d spent all night cleaning up. “Yeah, you seem to be doing perfectly fine on your own.”

When he met her eyes again, it was clear she’d just put up all her defenses. She avoided him, glancing around the apartment and her surroundings for the first time. He figured that was a good sign, some evidence that she believed him if she was willing to let her guard down a bit, to stop watching him like he’d attack her at any moment. “So where am I?”

He shrugged and followed her gaze. “A friend’s place. Not far from where you were getting your ass beat last night.”

“And where’s your friend?”

The corner of his lips turned upwards into a smirk. “Out of town.”

“That’s connivent.”

It really was. It was also convenient that Harry knew how to pick a lock, especially in a shitty building like the one his friend lived in. Sure, when Trevor got home in a few hours he wouldn’t appreciate the blood spots on the floor Harry still hadn’t mopped up, but he’d get over it. It wasn’t the first time Harry had inconvenienced his friends. It’d be pretty hard to explain that he’d done everything he did for a girl he was supposed to kill, however, but it also wasn’t his first time lying to his friends, either.

They’d never know the difference, and what they didn’t know couldn’t hurt them.

Her eyes fell from the secondhand refrigerator in the kitchen and back onto Harry expectantly. “And, for the third time now, who are you?”

He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. “As far as you’re concerned, I’m the person who saved your life.”

She snorted. “I didn’t need or want saving, especially not by some prick who can’t answer a simple fucking question.”

His features hardened into sharp lines. Anger cracking open the unreadable stone of his face as his lips thinned and his eyes became icy shards ready to attack. “I imagine that mouth of yours had something to do with the ass beating.”

Then the memories came flooding back all at once. What Harry had said just then about her mouth. The man who had punched first said something like that too. And once she remembered getting beat up, it wasn’t long before she remembered everything else too. There had just been flashes of faces and feelings since she woke, hidden behind that fog, but now it was all being pieced together before her. The Palace, the rope, the alleyway, the voice… the girl. Tears stung her eyes almost instantly when the girl’s face flashed behind Ember’s eyelids. And once she realized she’d cracked, she hid herself away from him again, refusing to let the man sitting across from her see what she had just recklessly exposed as she stared down at her scarred hands, closing them into fists.

He leaned forward again, intertwining his fingers and watching her closely even if she wouldn’t look at him. “That’s what you wanted, though, wasn’t it?” His voice was soothing in a way that almost made her want to trust him. She swallowed that feeling as quickly as she could. “You didn’t defend yourself because you didn’t want to.”

She couldn’t help it then, her hand twitched toward a knife or a gun because she’d let herself become vulnerable and she’d sooner kill him than allow him to have that knowledge. Thanks to the pain lingering in various parts of her body, though, she was too slow and he noticed well before she could even reach out to grab the gun she’d been after.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He warned quietly but with enough threat in his tone that she glanced up at him again under furrowed brows. Once he met her eyes, he opened his mouth to say more but the second he saw the look on her face, whatever else he was about to say caught on his tongue. He supposed he’d wanted to tell her that if she did reach for a weapon, it wouldn’t go very well for her, but instead, he found himself getting pulled into her darkness, as if he’d just took a dive into the depths of her soul and there was just a vast, emptiness surrounding him. His mouth hung open still until she looked away in defeat and released her hold on him.

He strung himself back together and cleared his head. “Tell me what you were doing last night and I’ll let you go.”

“Let me go?” She repeated, flinching the second her face scrunched from confusion. It only made Harry want to know what her deal was even more. “I thought you wanted me to work for you?”

He tilted his head to one side as if the answer to her question was obvious. “Why would I want someone to work for me who purposefully puts themselves in harm’s way?”

She didn’t say anything; she didn’t argue. She just stared at a clear spot on the table as blankly as she’d stared at that wall in her apartment last night. The longer he watched her, the more he wanted to ask where she’d gone in her head—what she was thinking—but he imagined it was a nightmare he didn’t want to know about. He imagined her life was nothing but series of nightmares that followed her into her sleep, if the way she’d woken twenty minutes ago was any consolation.

“You should’ve left me there.” She whispered, barely even audible as she hung her head.

He should have and he knew that. Killing her—or passively letting her die—was what Dom had hired him for after all. Why he’d been following her the past few days. Why he’d been there last night in the first place. But… for the first time in his life, he couldn’t do it. Not when she seemed to be begging death to take her already. She’d changed—drastically—and he wanted to know everything.

“Why?” His curiosity got the best of him, even if it was a stupid idea to ask her.

But, he wanted to know how she went from that girl he’d seen in Eden just the other day, who could entrap, manipulate, overpower any man of her choosing to… to this. This broken shadow of that girl sitting across from him now.

The girl he desperately wanted to wrap into his arms and make sure she never got hurt again. The girl he’d just officially met, even though he’d already seen her half-naked and covered in blood. The girl who was his job… a job he was already planning to get out of, even though he knew he shouldn’t. Dominic Aldine wasn’t a very understanding man. Harry couldn’t just back out on the account that he may or may not like Ember more than he should. But he’d already decided that he was going to try because he couldn’t bring himself to kill her.

She didn’t say anything for a while, and he waited patiently. Although after a few minutes, he was beginning to assume he’d lost her to her nightmares again and he’d never get an answer out of her. However, moments later, her voice came in a strained mumble. “I messed up.” Her eyes wavered frantically like she was trying to push away whatever memories were haunting her but no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t escape it. “I deserved…” She shook her head and he understood, not that her brief explanation offered any sense of comfort, but he’d be lying if he said he never royally fucked up and felt like he deserved the same. Though, he imagined she would have let those men beat her until there was nothing left. He’d never really been that low in his life.

Had he purposefully gotten himself beat up as atonement? Sure. Had he wanted to die for it? No.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted more information but it felt like he’d be torturing her for it and that was another thing he couldn’t bring himself to do.

“Can I leave now?” She asked, and he supposed it was only fair. She answered his question, even if it was the spark notes version of it.

“Will you be finding another way to off yourself as soon as I let you go?”

She shrugged and finally wiped the wetness from her face that Harry had been dying to reach across the table and do himself. It would have been a bad idea, if not solely for the fact that his calloused hands would have irritated the fragile state of her face. Then there was the fact that being that close to her, that intimate, would be the worst idea he’d ever had in his life.

Still, his fingers itched to touch her. His legs begged him to get up and sit next to her.

Thank god for his brain, though, as it kept his stupid ass planted where it belonged. Away from her.

He looked into her eyes again and tried not to drown in them this time, then said something else he probably shouldn’t have. “Please don’t.”

He was well aware his voice came out a bit more desperate than he planned, even if he did mean what he said, so he cleared his throat and tried to be a little less… emotional. “The hours of sleep I lost stitching you up, cleaning and bandaging your wounds would be for nothing.”

Although she tried to fight it, one corner of her mouth still curved up into a smile.

“Will you at least tell me your name then?” She bargained and it didn’t really feel like a fair trade. Her promise not to throw all his work down the drain in exchange for just his name. She wanted to know more of course, but if he was anything like her, she knew he would share as little as he could get away with. She did know, at the very least, that he was like her. Missing a few important morals if he’d wanted her to work for him.

“It’s Harry.” Even though his lips thinned like he wasn’t pleased with giving her that information, he had still answered her rather quickly. It was as if it came out of his mouth before he had a chance to think otherwise. Like maybe he’d regret telling her anything about himself later on.

She nodded, assuming he already knew her name. Then she sat forward to grab her belongings off the table. “And if I want to find you again?”

He shook his head, watching her hands carefully. “Don’t.”

There were three missed calls and seven texts when she found her phone on the floor of her bedroom. To her surprise, it was already three in the afternoon and, upon reading the angry texts, she was supposed to meet Zora and their clients thirty minutes ago.

Grunting, she dialed Z and tossed her phone onto the bed while removing her clothes.

Well… his clothes.

Which she folded into a neat stack on her dresser to be dealt with later. She wasn’t sure what she’d do with them yet but she didn’t exactly want to toss them.

Maybe he’d want them back and she’d have an excuse to see him again.

No.

No, she would not be seeing him again.

Maybe she’d just burn them and forget Harry even existed.

“Where the fuck are you Ember, I swear to god!” Z blared through the speaker while Ember slipped into her own, familiar, wardrobe; a pair of jeans ripped at the knees—but not purposely—and a fitted black long-sleeve. Most of her closet was filled with items that would allow her to blend in. The other twenty-five percent of it were things that did the exact opposite, like the dress she’d worn last night.

Cringing away from those memories that lingered tauntingly at the edge of her mind, Ember rolled her eyes and picked her phone up from the bed. “Calm down, I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“You better hurry your ass up, I’ve already made enough excuses for you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ember ended the call and then turned back to her closet for the last thing she would need. Luckily, she’d sacrificed her least favorite coat last night, which had been left at The Palace, possibly belonging to someone else now. So, thankfully, her favorite leather jacket was still on its hanger, waiting for her. She pulled it on quickly, and as it embraced her like a warm hug, she hoped she wouldn’t also have to sacrifice it as well one day. She’d probably kill someone before she let the thing land into another person’s hands, though.

Besides, she had to make up for the fact that she currently looked like a punching bag and resembled Leatherface in a way. Making the rest of her body look good was a priority and if anything could manage that, it was the jacket.

“What the hell happened to you?” Zora probably would have shouted if she wasn’t currently whispering into Ember’s ear, trying to hide her shock and concern from their clients, who were both also eyeing Ember suspiciously since her late arrival.

They were in the typical meeting spot, the shipping docks in the southernmost point of Kypa. Not many ventured this far down unless it was for work, so it was perfect. They usually tried to limit the amount of witnesses to avoid killing innocent people, but there was still the occasional smoker who traveled down along the docks until they stumbled upon something they shouldn’t have and then Ember would have to take care of it. Those were the bodies that haunted her, whenever some unlucky soul got caught in the crosshairs.

Ember glanced at Z in her peripheral and smiled, “You should see the other guy.”

The clients, also both women whom went by code names Ember couldn’t quite remember, shared a look between them. A concerned look because—even though they had limited interactions with Ember—they had never seen her so beaten up before. No one had ever gotten any sort of upper hand on her, even if she ended up killing them in the end.

“Is it done?” One of the women asked hesitantly, one that Ember swore was named Venus. Actually, as she put more thought into it, she was pretty much certain that was her name, and the other one, who was shorter and red-haired, was named Gemini. She remembered thinking that they had some weird fixation with space when she first heard of them through Zora.

Ember met the blonde woman’s gaze and nodded a confirmation. “It is.”

A bitter taste flooded the back of her tongue because instead of seeing Edmond Wallis falling to his very deserving death, all Ember could see, all she could think of, was the girl. And the girl led her down a path toward Harry. Harry who she’d tried so hard to stop thinking of, but jesus christ he was hard to kick out of her brain.

Both women nodded as well, seeming pleased even though they said nothing else. The front runner, Venus, pulled out her phone and typed for less than a second. “Derek will bring the money shortly.”

Ember tried to hide her smirk, but it was useless. Derek had been another unfortunate male that found himself in her bed one night. It was actually the first night after they’d all met in person, when they had completed their first job for Venus and Gemini. Z hadn’t been around when he came to drop off their payment and well... Ember couldn’t be trusted alone around attractive men.

The three women surrounding her had no idea about it though, so she tried not to ruin the relationship they had by turning her terrible bedroom habits into common knowledge.

“We have another job.” Gemini spoke for the first time, staring directly at Ember and pointedly ignoring Zora. But, as Ember glanced at Venus, it seemed as if this other job was supposed to be kept a secret with the way Venus’ lips thinned and her body tensed.

“We’re not—“ Z began, but Ember was louder.

“What is it?”

Gemini stepped forward, ignoring the warning expression her partner shot in her direction. “His name’s Quin Stone. He’s—“

“That’s enough.” Venus cut in sharply. “We’ll find someone else to take care of him.”

“Why?” Ember asked incredulously. “I can do it.”

Venus and Zora shared a look and Ember immediately grew irritated. There was something her best friend wasn’t telling her and she had no clue what it was. The last thing Ember enjoyed was being left in the dark.

“E...” Zora sighed, turning toward Ember while running a hand through her hair to keep it tamed as the breeze from the water blew it into her face. “We just finished this job and you... you look like you just got done being someone’s punching bag. And I... we need to talk.” Z glanced warily sideways, at the other women who pretended to be minding their own business. Although Ember wanted to know what the fuck was going on right there and then, she let it go. She didn’t like turning down a job, but Z was right about one thing. She felt like a punching bag and would be no use in causing any harm for at least a few more days until she recovered.

Before more could be said, a familiar black Audi pulled up beside them, and even though the windows were tinted dark enough to not see inside, Ember knew it was Derek who was about to step out of the driver’s seat with a duffel bag of money in hand.

And, seconds later, that’s exactly what he did. Ember watched him the entire time, especially his muscles as she was reminded exactly why she’d taken him to bed in the first place. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, but the way his jaw hardened made it obvious he was watching her too. It was probably really messed up that she enjoyed the power she had over men so much, but she couldn’t help it. She loved knowing Derek—and others like him—would undoubtedly be remembering what she looked like without clothes on and have to live with the fact that they wouldn’t ever be able to see it again.

Derek stopped beside Zora, still tense and visibly uncomfortable, possibly because the last time he’d seen Ember, he’d nearly begged to have her again and she’d just laughed in his face. He cleared his throat and handed the bag off to Z.

Zora didn’t bother counting it or even unzipping the bag. She trusted Venus because Venus, although quite terrifying herself, knew that Ember would be unleashed upon her if she ever short-changed them. And Ember, well… she wasn’t someone very many people messed with, not even Venus.

“You look like shit.” Derek’s voice was unexpected but still just as smooth as Ember remembered while he addressed her. While he pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, taming his medium-length black hair. His eyes traveled down the length of her body and then back up where he cringed at the sight of her face as if he’d just now seen it.

Ember smiled though, “Are you always so flattering, Derek?”

That muscle in his jaw hardened again as he met her gaze. “You would know.”

It probably wasn’t Ember’s best idea, but she was feeling reckless and if Venus or Gemini no longer wanted to work with her, then so be it. “The only thing I know is that your cock isn’t nearly as impressive as the rest of you.”

Zora flipped her head around to Ember so fast it might have given her whiplash and both of their clients glared at her as well. So, no, it was not her brightest move, but there was too much going on in her head and she wanted to hurt someone. Derek had just been the unlucky target.

“You didn’t.” Z gasped.

Ember just grinned at her best friend until Zora became very visibly disappointed and apologized to their clients and, most importantly, to Derek, although Derek was still staring at Ember, knowing that she’d never apologize and wanting to destroy her for it. Instead of letting violence overcome him, however, he replaced his sunglasses onto the bridge of his nose and turned back to his car after mumbling to Venus that he’d wait for them.

“Well,” Venus took a long, calming breath, “It’s best we don’t work together for a bit then, after all. Keep in touch, Z.” Neither women even gave Ember a second glance before they followed Derek’s path to the car. Zora waited until they were gone before she exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? You show up here like... like this,” she motioned to Ember’s face, “late and wasting everyone’s time and then you say some stupid shit like that? They’re our clients and my friends, Ember, you can’t just treat them like garbage.”

“Them being your friends is your own fault, not mine. I told you plenty of times not to make friends.”

“I’m sorry that having you as my only friend sounds like the most miserable experience I could ever imagine!” Zora’s voice echoed through the entire port it seemed. And Z’s remark had its intended affect, to shut Ember up, and so silence surrounded them both. When Ember remained an unmoving statue, Zora groaned. “You didn’t always use to be this way, Em. It’s like the further we’ve gotten from him, the more you’re turning into him.”

“I’m not him.” Ember spat, her fingers twitching to punch Zora in the face for even brining him up but she quickly stopped herself before she did something stupid and irredeemable.

“It’s why I think we need a break. I... I need a break.”

“If you don’t want to do this anymore, then fine. Leave. I don’t need you anyways.”

Zora shook her head and turned to face the water, watching it as she calmed down again. “My dad, he... he was right. I’d never be like him or enjoy this life. And I don’t now either, even though we got away. I just want to feel safe. I want a family and I don’t want to feel so fucking alone all the time.”

Ember didn’t say anything, wasn’t sure what to say exactly. She wasn’t good at being vulnerable, not even with the one person in the world who knew her best. The one person in the world she trusted with her life.

“But I’m not just going to leave and let you dig your own grave.” Ember’s heart tightened in her chest when Z’s voice broke and, when she looked up, saw the tear falling down her cheek. “We both need to get out of this city. Please.”

Zora had never sounded so... desperate.

But the last time Ember had been anywhere besides Kypa had been the darkest time of her entire life. She wouldn’t leave even if her life depended on it. “You can get away, Z. I... This is the life I want.”

Zora turned back to face Ember. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Zora bit her tongue and, after a moment, shook her head again. “Forget it. Can we go get something to eat please? I’m fucking starving.” She didn’t give Ember a chance to backtrack as Z turned on her heel to leave, adjusting the duffel bag on her shoulder. So, Ember just sighed and followed, leaving all their unsaid words behind on the docks.

After dropping off the duffel bag at the safe house, where the rest of their most important possessions resided, in the outskirts of Southern Kypa, Zora drove west as they both sat in silence. Ember already knew where she was headed, and didn’t exactly want to delve back into their earlier argument when Zora had all the power and a million reasons to swerve the car into oncoming traffic and shut Ember up for good.

Lucia’s was in between the lunch and dinner rush when they’d arrived, so there were plenty of empty tables to choose from, even though the owner, Nico, took them to the same old booth in the back they were used to. The restaurant was in a more upscale part of the city, and Ember didn’t mind getting out of southeast Kypa for a few hours. She’d admit she needed it. Needed to forget the previous night. The girl she’d gotten killed. The man who’s voice still haunted her.

Him.

The green eyes and the way his touch lingered on her skin even though she’d been unconscious at the time.

Although, as Ember stood in front of the small bathroom mirror, she thought about Harry more than ever. She saw her face properly for the first time as she stared at herself while drying her hands. There was, in fact, quite a bit of damage. And as she traced her fingers along the line of stitches, she thought about him some more. First in ways that she shouldn’t be thinking about. Like what his touch actually felt like and why he even cared enough to save her when he knew who she was. Knew she’d never allow anyone to touch her in a way she didn’t want. He knew that and yet he still…

Then she cleared her head, dropped her hands, and made her way back out to Zora, considering how Harry might be useful to her. Maybe if she could find him and convince him to take her on after all, it would be what Z needed to get out. She wouldn’t have to worry about what would happen to Ember. Even though Harry was practically a stranger, she strangely trusted him a tiny bit. It could work, but she’d have to find him again and that was sure to be difficult.

Ember opened her mouth to simply suggest the idea to Zora once she’d returned to her spot, but a loud crash from the kitchen caught her off guard. Everyone in the room turned toward the sound and just as Ember began to write it off as a clumsy chef knocking over a pile of dishes, she was soon proven wrong. Several staff flooded through the doors, one tripping over themselves before scrambling away. Following right behind them, men, five or six of them, with bodies covered from head to toe in black, came storming out of the kitchen. Bullets began firing immediately and Ember ducked just as one whizzed by her head.

When a reprieve came, Ember wasted no time grabbing Zora’s hand and getting them both the hell out of there. They kept their heads down and Z took the lead as Ember drew her gun to hopefully take at least one of the shooters out. However, when she twisted around and aimed, she realized they were all staring directly at her. All of their guns aimed at her back.

They weren’t random shooters.

She was the target.

Even so, she let a few rounds of her own go flying, hitting one of the men in the chest before Z pulled harder on her wrist and they ran toward the rear exit at the opposite side of the restaurant.

Bullets began again and Ember dodged what she could. She already knew she needed to ditch Zora someplace safe, so once they turned the corner down a long hallway that lead outside and Ember had a moment where they were blocked off by a wall, she took control and shoved Zora through the door of the women’s restroom. Where she knew there was a window just big enough for Zora to squeeze through.

“What are you doing?”

“You go. I’ll distract them.” Ember nodded up toward the window, “Meet me at the safe house.”

“No.” Z glanced over Ember’s shoulder. “Go home. We can’t risk it. Call me when you get there. Here.”

She shoved her car keys into Ember’s open hand and neither of them wasted much more time that they’d need to make it out alive. In an instant, Ember turned and disappeared back out into the hallway, hesitating a moment before the men rounded the corner and began shooting again. As soon as they were in sight, she took off.

She zig zagged, dodging them once more, however one bullet still grazed her arm, nicking her skin just enough to leave a dent. A burning dent that would undoubtedly leave yet another scar on her skin. But as blood poured beneath her sleeve down her arm to her hand, she didn’t stop for even half a second. Not even to mourn the tear in her favorite jacket that couldn’t be easily repaired. She just pushed through the double doors at the end of the hallway and into the parking lot behind the building.

She raced toward Z’s car with only about a five second lead on the men, who came barreling through the door after her just as she reached the driver’s side and pulled herself in.

She kept her head down as she started the engine, while bullets planted themselves into the side of Zora’s poor Maserati. Ember had always loved the vehicle and hated these men even more now for destroying it. The second the car revved to life, however, she took off, speeding out of the parking lot and narrowly missing another car on her way out. Once she got onto the streets, she pressed the gas pedal all the way to the floor as she dodged traffic and ran red lights.

It wasn’t over yet—not that she had even considered it would be—so she got onto the highway and made full use of the car’s horsepower, going well over a hundred miles an hour. She didn’t even look to see exactly how fast she was going, just kept her eyes on the rear view mirror to check if they were following.

And, sure enough, a black SUV merged onto the highway, crashing into a smaller car and causing it to roll across the lanes. Ember cursed and drove even faster, as fast as she could go while swerving between traffic. She was willing to believe in miracles for the fact that the road wasn’t too crowded.

However, that bit of mercy shown to her didn’t last long as bullets struck the Maserati once more and she ducked down again to shield herself from them. Glancing quickly over her shoulder, she spotted the SUV behind her now, about a three car distance away, but close enough to do some damage.

Sloppily, and nearly slamming into the back of a station wagon, she grabbed the gun she knew Zora kept underneath the driver’s seat and pulled it out. She quickly checked the clip and then turned slightly in her seat to shoot out the back window. The first bullet shattered the glass and she mumbled an apology to the Maserati just as she shot off two more rounds into the driver’s side of the SUV. She’d missed, but it still swerved, causing another crash, and, most importantly, gave Ember enough time to escape. To gain her speed back and figure out her exit plan. Up ahead, traffic was slowing as nothing but brake lights flooded across all lanes, so she turned her wheel quick, cutting off a man in a Tesla who honked at her and gave her the middle finger as she darted toward the off ramp she’d narrowly missed. It would be the only one for the next few miles and there was no way she’d be getting out alive if she got stopped in traffic.

She sped right through the red light at the end of the ramp and onto a road she recognized. She was almost back in the southeast quadrant of the city, but she wasn’t quite headed home just yet. Not while they were still following her. She needed to lose them first.

She’d managed to put a decent distance between her and them, but she could still see the SUV in her mirrors and it wouldn’t be long before she caught the attention of the Kypian police. She needed to get off the road, to use the distance she’d gained and ditch the car someplace to make a run for it instead. She could disappear amongst the crowds.

Digging through her mental navigation of the city, she made a sharp turn down Clover Street, knowing it would at least bring her close to where she was planning on losing them.

However, when she glanced in her rear view mirror again, the SUV was nowhere to be found. She kept her pace and waited another moment before she checked again. Nothing. There was no way she’d lost them already. Had they stopped following her? And, if so, why?

Her heart pounded in her ears, and an uneasy feeling settled in her stomach because now she had no idea what to do. She had no control over the situation. They could have taken a different route and could come barreling out in front of her at any moment. They could do just about anything and she’d be blindsided.

She cut off yet another car in order to speed down a side street and then came to a stop along the curb where she waited for what felt like hours, but was, in reality, only a couple minutes. Her watchful eyes flipped back and forth between her mirrors, anticipating some kind of attack to come her way at any moment. But nothing ever happened. No black SUV turned onto her street either behind her or in front. No men with guns.

Nothing.

They were just… gone. And she almost wished they were still following her because this felt worse.

After another minute, she made a sharp U-turn and merged her way back onto Clover Street, headed straight into the Moon District of southeast Kypa.

It wasn’t her favorite place to be, but it was easy to disappear in. Not necessarily when you were driving a Maserati, but she still kept watch behind her to make sure she wasn’t being followed as she made her way home.

The Moon District was always busy, at every time of day. It’s how all the criminals that snuck around got away with their business. It also had an entire underground section, The Hallows, where the worst of the worst hung out. The buildings were all right on top of each other, compact to fit everything and everyone in. Most of it was storefronts, crammed into short, stone buildings with flat roofs. Given the set up, Ember had plenty of practice scaling the roofs across the district, going unnoticed as she stalked her targets, whom usually all tended to visit the Moon District at some point.

The Moon District emptied out into the heart of Southeast Kypa, where the buildings reached the sky once more and the streets were less busy. There was still some traffic since it was practically rush hour, but it wasn’t as easy to blend in. Still, she raced forward, trying not to draw too much attention to herself as she reached her building. She drove in circles for a bit, going around a few different blocks in different directions just in case she was actually still being followed before she pulled into her building’s underground parking. The other residents probably wouldn’t enjoy seeing the bullet holes in the side of Zora’s car, but Ember didn’t really give a damn.

Once she ditched the car, she ran up a couple flight of stairs, deciding against taking the elevators until she got a few floors up where she’d be able to hear if anyone had followed her. She dialed Zora twice, only to be left with her voicemail each time. She figured it was good enough, at least Z would know she’d made it back. It did worry Ember a bit, though, that maybe Z hadn’t made it out. But, right now, Ember had to be sure she was still in the clear, so she’d deal with Zora later.

Even after she reached the fourth floor and everything seemed safe, she still snuck through the door that led from the stairwell and to the elevators quietly, and with her gun drawn. While waiting, she hid halfway behind the wall in front of them, her gun aimed at the doors, just in case. It was all somewhat unnecessary—although in Ember’s book it was always better to be safe than sorry—once of the doors dinged open and she was able to verify that it was completely empty and devoid of any risks. After stepping inside, never once turning her back on the hallway, she swiped her card to take her all the way up to the penthouse, refusing to take her eyes off her surroundings until the doors were closed.

When she was alone and it was quiet apart from her erratic breathing, the wound in her arm made itself known again, burning as it got her attention. She shoved her gun back into place under the band of her jeans, hidden by her leather jacket, and pressed her hand to the wound, hoping to ease some of the pain. The blood that had reached her fingers was now dried and slightly sticky, making her uncomfortable, but she’d handled worse. At the very least, the bullet wound had stopped throbbing as she ascended through the top floors of her building.

She was still on edge the entire time, even as she reached her floor. Everything about the whole situation was weird and she just felt... a little bit off.

The feeling never went away even as her familiar space greeted her with open arms as she stepped off the elevator. She attempted to call Zora again once she reached the foyer, but to no avail. Something wasn’t right, she was sure of it. But she just didn’t know what.

She did nothing but listen to the silence surrounding her as she clicked her phone off. She glanced around the room, into the living area and the kitchen—everything that she could see from the foyer—to check if anything was out of place. A moment later, however, she realized her instincts had been correct, but it was too late by the time the sound of footsteps reached her ears, because when she turned toward it, reaching for her gun, the blast to the back of her skull sent her spiraling into darkness instead.

She woke to even more throbbing pain, but this time it was exclusive to the back of her head. She knew from how much is still hurt that she hadn’t been out for long, but as she looked up into eerily familiar faces of two men staring right back at her, she wished she could black out again.

The most she knew was that she was still in her apartment, in the middle of the open living room space, not far from where she’d been knocked unconscious, most likely from one of the two men standing in front of her. The other thing she knew was that they’d also tied her wrists and ankles to one of her dining chairs, tight enough that when she tugged against her restraints they didn’t even budge, just burned as the rope chafed against her skin.

She couldn’t exactly place where she knew the men from, maybe they were with the people who had chased her earlier. She’d been too busy outrunning their guns to have made out a face though. As she took them in, eyeing them from head to toe for any bit of a clue, her gaze snagged on one little detail. The man standing to the left of her clutched shiny metal in his fists and she prayed he never came near her with those brass knuckles, although she wasn’t sure she would end up being that lucky. As her heart raced, she investigated the man to her right, hoping he didn’t also have a similar weapon, but she couldn’t tell because he stood with his arms crossed, exposing a much more helpful piece of information: a circular scar along his flexed bicep.

Like the one she had on her forearm.

Her eyes widened in panic just as her worst fears were confirmed.

His voice came from behind her as he leaned onto the back of her chair, his lips at her ear. “You didn’t really think you’d get away from me forever, did you?”

She whipped her head around just as Dominic pushed himself upright from her chair, meeting her searing gaze with his same old narcissistic grin. The one he used when he knew he was getting his way. When he’d won.

She hated it. She hated him. Her top lip curled in disgust as he stepped around the the front of her, stopping in between the two men who she now knew were Dom’s henchmen.

He looked just the same as she remembered, even though it’d only been less than a year since she’d last been this close to him. His hair was still trimmed to perfection, with shaved sides and longer dark strands down the middle all pulled back into a bun how he normally wore it. He still didn’t show any signs of graying, which she might’ve attributed to dye if the scruff that was growing back along his jawline wasn’t just as dark as his hair.

Besides how he looked, though, how he made her feel was all the same too. He made her chest tighten like she couldn’t get enough oxygen into her lungs. He made her hands tremble and her skin grow cold and clammy. And none of it was in a good way.

Especially not considering he was holding onto a gun in his left hand.

He titled his head to one side, taking in the sight of her. “You look like shit, Lenny.” His voice, dear god, his voice was something she thought she’d never hear again except for in her nightmares.

And that name. Her real name.

She pulled against her restraints again, letting it burn and letting her anger show. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

He chuckled and stepped toward her until he was close enough to place the tip of the barrel of his gun underneath her chin and lift her defiant eyes to his. Being tied up made her completely helpless to him, just as he’d always wanted her to be. Just a thing he could control.

“Did I ever tell you how I came up with the name Ember?”

She didn’t say anything, just continued to look up at him like the second she was free she was going to rip him to pieces with her bare hands.

“Those eyes,” his gaze bounced between both of them like he was searching for something, “you always had a fire in you, Em, and I’m glad to see it’s still burning.”

“Fuck off.” She spat, literally, right up into his face. It wasn’t a smart move but it made her feel better. At least until he let go of her chin, lifted his hand, and brought the hilt of the gun down against her temple hard enough to send her spiraling back into darkness again.

She gasped the next time she woke and found herself drenched in freezing cold water. The man with the visible brand on his bicep fell back into his spot behind Dom, setting the now emptied glass onto the coffee table.

“So, Ember, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Dom went on as if no time had passed at all. He still stood towering in front of her, his hand still clasped firmly around his gun.

“How did you find me?” She asked instead, or rather, demanded.

“Ah,” he scrubbed at his jaw with his free hand then grinned at her sadistically, “so the hard way then.” Before she could even think of a response, he turned on his heel and wandered toward the kitchen, taking his time grabbing a chair and setting it up in front of her before he straddled it, resting his arms up on the backrest and sighing. “I’m not that surprised, you were never very easy, were you?”

She felt like spitting in his face again but he was too far away now.

“You’ve been getting sloppy, Em.” He finally spoke again, giving her a semblance of an answer to her earlier question of how he managed to find her. “I believe you ran into a colleague of mine recently.”

Her mind raced back to the previous night. To the man in the alleyway. The one who’d known who she was. Who’d given the final orders to kill that girl.

“He has a big mouth. Don’t care for him that much but he did mange to figure out where you were staying.” Dominic glanced around the room, at the nice appliances in the kitchen and the fancy leather couches Zora had picked out. “Nice place, by the way.”

“What do you want?” Ember cut to the chase before he could begin asking about his daughter. Ember would rather be beaten to death with a thousand brass knuckles than give up any information on Zora.

“I told you I’d find you Ember. And I don’t know where you’re hiding my daughter, but I’ll find her too soon enough.”

Panic rushed through her although she tried her damndest to keep her face and her body under control.

Dom knew her too well for that to work completely in her favor though. “You were always so good at hiding behind that face, weren’t you?”

“What. Do you. Want.” She repeated, much more threatening this time. Not that she could actually be much of a threat given her current state and given that Dom and his henchmen were some of the only people in the world not terrified of her. But, again, it made her feel better to release some of that anger.

“I want you to come back.” He paused to watch for a reaction from her but she didn’t give him the satisfaction, so he continued on. “Come back and I’ll forget about Zora. I’ll forget about what you did.”

She laughed almost hysterically and let her head fall back against the chair, staring up at the ceiling incredulously because Dominic had officially lost his mind if he thought she’d actually agree to that. “I’d rather get my head chopped off.”

“That can be arranged.”

She shook her head. “No. You wouldn’t kill me then and you won’t now.”

When she looked at him again though, because he’d been quiet, his smile grew and it terrified her so much that all amusement drained from her face and her skin paled. He wouldn’t actually kill her… would he?

“You were chased by men today, correct?” He asked, glancing at his fingernails as if he were bored.

Her eyes widened. “That was you?” It would make sense. He had every reason to want her dead after what she’d done. But if he did truly plan on killing her after all, she never thought he’d go and hire someone else to do it.

“No.” He shook his head, chuckling as if it were such a ridiculous assumption she’d made. “No, I’d never put a hit on you, Em… but you apparently pissed someone else off.” He leaned forward a tiny amount, “So, it seems to me that your only options are to die or to come back.”

“I already told you which I’d rather do, but thanks for the offer.”

Dom nodded at the man to his right, the one with the knuckles whose name she couldn’t recall. She fought against the ropes, against the chair, against everything as he came up to her. He had to be at least six foot seven with arms as wide as his head. He didn’t wait for any other orders, just peeled back his arm and struck her with the metal right across Harry’s stitches.

Stitches that she heard rip wide open as blood gushed down the front of her. She tasted it in her mouth too just before it dripped towards her chin.

“Keep up the smart ass remarks. There’s plenty more where that came from... even though it seems you’ve already fucked up your pretty face plenty.”

She spat the blood onto the floor and glared at him, hoping those flames in her eyes were visible to him now. “Go ahead. You think I give a damn?”

“The Ember I knew did. In fact, she gave enough of a damn to kidnap my daughter, murder my wife,” his eyes darkened, “and dozens of my men.”

She scoffed, “As if you don’t go through men worse than she did.” That remark cost her another blast to the face, but it was worth it, even if the crack of metal hitting bone that resounded through the room made her want to throw up. It was still worth it. Haven had been his second wife, technically, because Zora’s mother had died long before Ember came into the picture. And Dom’s second wife, whom Ember had plotted against every chance she got, was nearly as insufferable as he was. So really, she had it coming.

“Again.” She barely heard Dom give the order through the ringing in her ears, which only worsened when she was struck another time, on the other side of her face. And this one, she was not prepared for in the slightest, so it nearly had her slipping into darkness again and even though she fought it, there was still prominent blind spots in her vision when she lifted her head.

Ember just laughed through the blood and the pain and the spinning dizziness. “I enjoyed putting a bullet through her skull, you know. She was the reason...” Ember swayed a bit, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself for a moment before she came back, her words still just a slur of sounds mushed together. “She was the reason I even met Cam.”

At the sound of that name, Dom’s hands tightened into fists, his knuckles turning white as his pupils dilated and his jaw sharpened to a point. She’d never told Dom the full story about Cameron, but now seemed as good as any if she was truly about to be beaten to death.

“What are you talking about?” He demanded.

Ember titled her head back again, against the wood of the chair, smiling with bloody teeth as she stared up at the ceiling and ignored the horrible feeling of blood dripping down her throat. “She introduced me to him when I was fourteen. She’s the one who took me to his house and left me alone with him.”

“Why didn’t I know about that?” He nearly shouted.

She shrugged as tears mixed with the blood running down her face. “Does it matter? You still killed him for what he did.”

“Then I punished you for months because I thought you were stupid enough to run away from us!”

Again, she shrugged, knowing she was in a bad physical state by the way his raised voice didn’t frighten her as it used to. “You wouldn’t have taken my word for it anyway. You knew I hated her.” And he wouldn’t have. Haven had been the one to spin the lie that Ember had ran off and Dom was too in love with her to ever have believed the truth of what really happened.

Dom ran his hand down his face and then exploded form his chair, knocking it over with a loud, “Fuck,” before he paced through the room.

She lifted her head just enough to look at him, just enough so that the darkness didn’t seep back across her eyes.

Then he turned to face her and dropped the hard shell. Turned back into the Dom who sat at the head of the dinner table and told stories about his childhood. Who had killed for her and who had threatened several boys for her until they pissed their pants. He turned and looked into her eyes like he did when she had eventually found her way home after what Cameron had done, when he’d hugged her and told her he’d take care of everything. That was how he looked at her now. Like a father. “Why did you run from me Ember?”

His voice was quieter than it’d been the entire time and she knew he wasn’t playing games or in the mood for them either. She didn’t quite have the energy to muster up a smart remark, nor did she exactly want to be punched again at the moment.

“It wasn’t me who wanted to run from you.”

He froze. Didn’t say anything for so long, Ember thought time had slowed down. She had only done what she did to help Zora. It was the only reason she’d left. Dom terrified her, but he was the only parental figure she ever had. What came before him... were the furthest things from parents. Now, though, she didn’t so easily fall for his manipulations. He didn’t want her back because she was the daughter he’d always wanted Zora to be. No. He wanted her back because he’d lost his biggest source of income. And if he couldn’t have her, couldn’t control her, then he’d rather she be dead. She was sure of it.

He wasn’t her father.

But she wasn’t about to give up her freedom so easily now that she’d gotten a taste of it, especially not to him. Not to Dominic Aldine, who would force her to assassinate anyone with a high enough price tag. Who wouldn’t let her use her skills exclusively on people who actually deserved it. He would set the terms again, about everything in her life, and she’d rather be dead.

“I can protect you, Em.” He pushed back the strand of hair on his forehead that had fallen free of the bun. “Come back and I’ll take care of everything.”

She shook her head, her eyes fluttering shut as her consciousness finally stopped fighting to keep the darkness at bay. After a moment, though, and by some miracle, she blinked her eyes open slightly and saw him as he nodded in understanding. Her answer was clear and unchanging.

And his answer to that wouldn’t be one she’d like to hear.

“Ten days.” He spoke sternly. “My offer still stands but if you aren’t back by then—or dead—I’ll collect the money myself.”

The sun was just beginning to set on a new day when she finally woke. The pain was worse than it had been before—when she was tied to that chair—as she stumbled from her bed to the bathroom, nausea sending her to her knees in front of the toilet. When it was over, she fell back onto her ass, pressing herself against the opposite wall, letting her face fall into her hands.

It was then she realized her hands weren’t covered in blood as they had been the last time she’d been conscious. Investigating further, her shirt was clean and her jeans were gone. As quickly as she could manage, she got to her feet and rushed to the mirror only to find her face completely cleaned of blood as well. The cut on her cheekbone had been very sloppily sutured back together, although it was ten times worse than how Harry had left it. Other scrapes seemed to have been slathered in a healing ointment. The bruises were worsening by the second, but there wasn’t much she could do about them.

Dominic had ordered his henchman to beat her unconscious and then cleaned her up and tucked her into bed before he left.

And she hated it.

She would have rather been left in that chair.

A million different things ran through her brain. First was what to do about Dominic. How she was going to kill him. Or maybe she had better chances of just running further away. Then there was what to do about the hit placed on her. She had no idea who wanted her dead, besides Dominic, or why. Maybe it had something to do with their last job, or it was Venus herself getting back at her for what she did to Derek. It all led her thoughts back to Zora. How to keep her safe now that Ember was a target that would just get Z killed.

And then, of course, there was the fact that Zora had never answered her calls.

She raced out of the bathroom to find her phone, which Dominic had also taken care of as it sat plugged into its charger on her nightstand. Fuck him honestly.

The thought of him bugging her phone did, in fact, cross her mind. But there was nothing he could possibly trace, she’d made sure of that when she and Zora first got their new phones. Even so, she was going to make the call quick and then destroy the thing when she was done.

There were several missed calls from Zora which eased some of her nerves, but they just worsened again when she realized she’d been asleep for almost an entire twenty-four hours.

After dialing Z, she paced her bedroom and searched for other things Dominic might’ve done. The only other sign of him was her bloody clothing folded up on her dresser—and her leather jacket hanging on the back of her vanity chair—right next to where she’d left Harry’s things.

Harry.

“Em?” Zora’s shaky voice cut through the slightly insane plans Ember had been brewing. “Are… you okay?”

She turned away from the dresser, trying to focus. “Yeah, where the fuck are you?”

“Um, the safe house.” She cleared her throat. “No one followed me.”

“Good, stay there,” Ember demanded. “Don’t come back to the apartment.”

There was a brief pause, then, “Why not?”

“He found me.” They never said his name anymore, but Zora always knew what she meant.

The line was quiet for a while long, before Zora finally sighed. “What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know yet. You should call Ace and get away. As far away as you can.”

“He’s already here. Ember... there’s something—“

“Just leave, Z. If he finds you too...” She raked her hand through her hair frantically, not even wanting to entertain that thought.

There was an eery silence and then Z inhaled. “Did he do something to you?”

“No.” The last thing she wanted was for Z to worry. Not to mention, what Dominic did to her was no worse than anything else she’d been through before.

“E, you can come with us. You don’t have to—“

Ember just groaned in annoyance and cut her off. “Look, we both know this life has always made you miserable and you’ll never get away from it if I go with you.” She’d wandered over to the dresser as she spoke, to Harry’s clothes specifically. He could help her, she was sure of it. He’d mentioned having associates, other people that could help her disappear. That was all she needed. Just to disappear.

And if the state of his friend’s apartment meant anything, then he could use the type of money she had. The type of money she could pay him to help her.

“Em...”

“I have to go.” Ember didn’t bother with goodbyes as she hung up and swiftly smashed her phone on the ground until it no longer had any chance of being brought back to life. She gathered the shirt and pants that still smelled exactly like Harry as those plans from earlier finally formed freely in her mind. And after she pulled on yet another pair of tattered jeans, black ones this time, she shoved as much cash as she had hidden in her safe into a backpack, along with Harry’s clothes right on top.

She just hoped it’d be enough.

Ember had always been good at directions. Maybe it was because Dom had let her start driving at thirteen, but she could get herself around Kypa pretty well. Even if she was in a hungover-type state, stumbling home with the scent of some annoying, green-eyed prick’s scent filling her nostrils.

And as such, she was able to find her way back to that building without too much trouble. It also helped that she’d committed the address to memory... just in case. But she knew for a fact she was in the right place when she got into the elevator and found the blood stains that still hadn’t been cleaned up and undoubtedly belonged to her.

There were only a few doors to chose from once she got to the correct floor, going off of memories alone. But, again, the blood led her right up to the correct one. Room 159. Except the nine was missing and all that was left was the discolored wood in its place.

When she knocked, she knew Harry wouldn’t be the one answering the door, but she hoped whoever did, whoever the so-called friend of his was, would be able to lead her to him. She also hoped they weren’t still out of town, if Harry had even been telling her the truth about that.

Luckily enough, she heard footsteps on the other side, and after listening to the click of the lock being undone, she took a step back as the door opened in front of her.

Most definitely not Harry, and not really someone she would have expected him to be hanging out with, either. He seemed kind of... normal. With a five o’clock shadow and short blonde hair. Normal. Like he had a nine to five and drank black coffee every morning.

“Can I help you?” He asked before his eyes had really searched her face. Before he’d really seen the shitty state of it. When he finally did though, he cringed just as everyone else had. But once he got past the initial reaction, his eyes narrowed as he looked at her like she was the bane of his existence. “Let me guess... you’re the one who bled all over my apartment.”

So she was in the right place. Thank god.

“I need to find Harry.”

The guy shifted his weight as if he was bored. “Yeah, he told me you might come looking for him. And he also told me not to tell you shit.”

She took a step closer to him and he took an equal step back, eyes widening as his gaze drifted down to where she pulled a knife seemingly out of nowhere. “Trust me, whatever he threatened to do to you will not be nearly as bad as what I will do.”

He held up his hands in surrender, muttering, “Okay, okay,” and refused to take his eyes off her knife until she put it away. Which she didn’t. Not until he gave her the information she wanted. She arched an eyebrow expectantly and he finally sighed and told her. “He’s probably down in The Hallows.” He swallowed thickly. “Off of Clover and tenth.”

She sheathed her knife into its hiding spot and stepped back, smiling innocently. “Was that so hard?”

“When you find him,” the guy took a deep, relieved breath as he dropped his hands to his sides, “tell him I said to go fuck himself.”

The Hallows were the part of Southeast Kypa most normal people never ventured into. All sorts of shit happened above ground in the Moon District, so below it... Ember had never even wanted to know what went on down there.

And the fact that Harry went there often enough that it was where his friend thought he could be found kind of terrified her. And not many things did.

Even so, she located the club on Clover and Tenth by sunset, bypassing some of the shadiest people she’d ever seen as she made her way down the stairs in near a pitch-black hole in the ground, as it seemed. There was just a faint, red light emanating from the bottom of the stairs. It got colder as she went down, too, as if she was stepping farther and farther into a damn crypt, and the metallic scent of blood became more potent. The electronic music from above began to fade as voices took its place. Loud voices, shouting all sorts of shit as she neared the bottom of the stairs. The floor was sticky when she reached the short hallway, but that was hardly a concern at the forefront of her brain.

Because mostly, it felt like she’d just stepped foot into hell.

She trudged on through the nearly empty hallway, which was lined sporadically with people who all eyed her up and down like they knew she didn’t belong. And comparing herself to them, she really didn’t. They all had multiple piercings, tattoos, other body modifications that looked painful. They all had bloodshot eyes as if they hadn’t seen the light of day in quite some time. Regardless, they all looked at her like they might eat her alive, and not in a good way. Ignoring them, she let the voices guide her until the hallway opened up into a crowded room where the shouting became a million times louder.

There wasn’t even anything in common they were all shouting, just a loud jumble of various phrases she could barely parse out from the rest, such as, “Make him bleed!” Or the slightly more concerning, “Kill him!” It was obvious they were all watching something in the middle of the crowd, but Ember wasn’t positive she wanted to know what.

It was still dark in the room, but the red light that came from a variety of neon signs on the back wall mixed with the sparse overhead lights—which flickered from time to time—was good enough to at least make out faces. It was mostly all men, she couldn’t see a single female anywhere, in fact, which also was slightly unsettling to her already shaky nerves.

Mixed in with the heavily masculine cheering was screaming rock music that seemed to propel everything faster and faster, including the pounding in her chest. She wasn’t exactly sure if it was from being afraid necessarily or from an adrenaline rush.

Because… she wasn’t exactly afraid. Nervous to have walked into some sort of lion’s den? Yes. But scared? Not exactly. Not like she thought she might be.

So, she made her way through the crowds of people, sneaking through gaps and shoving her elbows into rowdy men who wouldn’t move. Quicker than she expected, she was near the center of the pit, close enough to peer over some lanky, underweight man’s shoulder and see what all the commotion was for.

And there, in the middle of a makeshift ring—that was less a ring and just an open space surrounded by shirtless, sweaty, bloody men—was Harry.

Who was also shirtless, sweaty, and bloody.

The blood was mostly exclusive to his hands though, hands that weren’t covered by anything besides a useless band of tape around his knuckles as he went on beating the shit out of his opponent.

She watched as he threw fist after fist, some being blocked, others meeting their target on the other man’s ribs. Before Harry managed to make a winning blow, however, his opponent got one sloppy hit in and sent Harry back a few steps. She also watched as Harry swiped the blood off his lip on the back of his hand and then beckoned the other man forward tauntingly. The ends of his hair were damp with sweat, and clung to his skin, and a few curly strands fell onto his forehead which didn’t seem to bother him.

And god, it was hot. Both Harry and in general, since she was still smushed between a bunch of men as their bodies tossed her around. And Harry… he was…

She quickly snapped out of it after having been ogling at his bare chest with her mouth hanging open for the past five minutes. It also didn’t really help that she was, yet again, imagining his hands. How gentle they must’ve been dealing with her wounds and how violent they were now. She averted her gaze and began making her way out of the crowd to find a clearing.

Once she did, she was able to breathe fresh, cool air again. Well, as fresh as it could be underground. She could still see bits and pieces of Harry from her new spot, and was still surrounded by men but they weren’t all on top of each other and quite a few of them weren’t paying much attention to the fight.

There was a couple benches nearby, one was occupied by a group of four who were definitely passing around narcotics of some sort. And on the other was just one man, albeit an attractive man, who glanced at his watch multiple times and seemed to be supervising an open gym bag which took up the rest of the space beside him.

Her eyes traveled back to Harry, cringing as he struck again and the crowd exploded with cheers. The only thing she knew for sure was that, if she could convince him to do so, he could definitely help her. And she was not about to fuck up her only shot at keeping her freedom by letting those thoughts she’d had about Harry materialize. He wasn’t just some man she could fuck and never see again; she needed him. And although she didn’t trust him, she, at the very least, knew he had a heart and a conscious because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have even bothered to save her.

And why save her and then refuse to help her escape certain death?

She, in a way, already had Harry’s approval. Because he wouldn’t refuse. Because he did have a heart. And Ember was about to exploit it.

With another few blows, Harry’s opponent fell to the ground and didn’t get back up again. Cheers louder than any time before flooded through the room as someone lifted Harry’s hand in the air, claiming him as the victor while he caught his breath. Of what she could see, he didn’t exactly seem happy to have won. In fact, as soon as his wrist was released, he pushed himself through the crowd and disappeared from her line of sight completely.

She waited until she could see where he went before she made a move toward him, but her plans were cut short when a hand plastered itself onto her backside.

And she didn’t even spare a second to think. She just flipped right around and used the momentum to her advantage as her fist flew down onto the man’s face. While he held onto his wound and muttered something about her being a bitch, she took the opportunity to punch him in the gut as well until he doubled over in a loud grunt. Then she grabbed hold of her blade and pressed it to his throat, lifting him upright until he was looking at her and she was right in his face, vicious as ever.

Blood dripped from the tiny cut she’d given him on his neck as she snarled at him, “You’re lucky I have better things to do, or I would have chopped your fucking hands off.”

He pushed away from her in an instant, and tumbled into the crowd where he escaped with an absolutely terrified expression on his face. As he should be. Ember wouldn’t even have hesitated to follow through on her threat if she were anywhere else, doing anything else. She also couldn’t afford to draw too much attention to herself. So, she just sheathed her knife and turned her attention back toward locating Harry.

Even so, people all around were watching her, whether she liked it or not, and they all seemed to have taken a step back, whether it was because they’d heard her threat or knew she had a knife on her, she couldn’t be sure. And how she managed to intimidate a whole room of overly aggressive men, she was also unsure, but she was definitely thankful for it.

It didn’t take long for her eyes to find the magnetic pull of his gaze. He stood at one of the benches, the one with the guy by himself who she now assumed was a friend of his. Both of them watched her; Harry, in particular, frozen in the middle of removing the tape from his knuckles. And as she began walking towards him, she made out the shape of a curse on his lips just before he broke eye contact.

As she stopped in front of him, he continued to remove his tape, completely ignoring her and hoping she’d just go away. But, instead, she stayed. Long enough to make him curious. So he finally muttered, without meeting her gaze, “How’d you find me?”

Once the tape was off, he grabbed a towel from the open bag to clean off the sweat and blood. Her eyes drifted from the bag up to the man sitting beside it. The one who was even more attractive up close and most definitely staring right back at her. Then he looked her up and down and she’d never felt the weight of someone’s gaze as heavily as she did then. And it only got worse when he met her eyes and smirked at her.

“Who’s this?” She asked Harry, motioning to his friend.

“Nobo—“ Harry began but he was abruptly cut off as the other man stood and held his hand out to her in greeting. He had to be above six foot, like Harry, but he was a few inches taller still. And the loose tank he wore with his black basketball shorts were absolutely an excuse to show off his biceps and pecs.

She made an effort not to ogle at him too.

“Noah.” His voice was friendlier than she expected, considering he had the sharp kind of bone structure that would intimidate anyone.

She stared at his hand cautiously for a moment before shaking it. She wasn’t foolish enough to trust some random man, even if he was Harry’s friend and he was insanely beautiful and had muscles bigger than her head.

“Yeah, okay, that’s enough.” Harry tossed his towel over his shoulder and stepped between them, shoving an amused Noah back onto the bench and turning to glare down at Ember. It was then she realized Harry was still very much shirtless and sweaty. And she was positive if she reached out and touched him, his chest would be hard as a rock.

She kept her impulses in check.

“How’d you find me, Ember?” He repeated, a little bit angrier this time though, and the sound of her name in his voice sent shivers down her spine. He hadn’t said it before, even though he’d claimed to know exactly who she was. Hearing it now... she nearly lost her train of thought.

“I, uh...” she shook her head clear and glanced at Noah once before facing Harry again and crossing her arms over her chest. “Turns out your friend isn’t out of town after all.”

Harry averted his eyes for a moment and then it seemed to dawn on him what she’d done. He raked his hand through his hair and sighed. “Fucking Trevor.”

Ember’s eyes fell to Noah again when he spoke. “Trevor’s a pussy, I told you to stop fucking with him.”

Harry twisted and glared at his friend. “Shut the hell up, Noah.”

Noah’s face became exaggeratedly offended. “Go fuck yourself, Harry.”

“Oh yeah!” Ember exclaimed, earning both boys’ full attention. “Trevor told me to tell you to go fuck yourself too. And, you know, maybe you should. It might help with those anger issues.” She gestured toward where the ring had been, where he’d been fighting only moments ago.

Noah coughed out a laugh which he swallowed quickly when Harry cut him another very angry glance before he faced Ember, shifting his weight impatiently. “Why are you here?”

Her eyes slowly traveled back towards Harry, not exactly ready to admit it to him, but she knew she had no choice. It was him or it was facing both Dominic and inevitable death by herself. “I need your help.”

He was quiet for the first time ever and she watched as his eyes scanned her face for possibly also the first time since her arrival. His features softened as he did and then, without even thinking about the consequences, he lifted his hand to her cheekbone, running his thumb lightly across the gash that had once been perfectly stitched up but was now, more or less, in shambles. His voice was a lot gentler when he spoke. “Looks like all my work went to shit anyway.”

She stared into his eyes and felt... too much. Too much that frightened her more than Dominic Aldine himself frightened her. She pulled away from him and Harry quickly dropped his hand, an apology ready on his lips that never came out because Ember moved right along.

“I have money. I’ll work for you, too. I don’t care. I just need to disappear.” She pulled her backpack down from her shoulders and held it in front of her while she unzipped the main pocket slightly, grabbing one stack of cash from underneath the clothes to briefly show him she was serious.

He lifted a brow and then shifted his gaze toward Noah. Noah who didn’t have any fucking idea what was going on, or who Ember even was. He’d be of no use because if it was up to Noah, he’d say yes to the cash in a heartbeat. But Noah didn’t know about the much larger lump sum offered to him elsewhere. It didn’t matter much because Noah didn’t say a damn thing anyway. It was obvious Harry had gotten himself into some deep shit and Noah wasn’t about to jump in the middle of it. So, Harry was left to his own devices in deciding whether or not to help the girl he was supposed to have put into a grave by now.

“Please?” She begged, zipping her backpack closed. “You can have all of it.” She handed it to him and when Harry refused to take it, she gave it to Noah instead. Noah who took it because he didn’t know what the fuck else to do.

And, besides, why wouldn’t he accept a backpack full of cash?

“Why do you need my help?” The question felt like defeat, like he’d already agreed to it since he was asking her for more information. He mentally begged for someone to smack some sense into his brain, but no one did of course.

“There is,” she kept her voice down so that only Harry and Noah heard her, “apparently, a price on my head.”

His eyes widened for a moment before he got his reactions back in check. He glanced at Noah quickly, who just gave him a useless, blank look. She clearly hadn’t figured out the truth about him, or else she wouldn’t be asking for his help, so that meant... someone else was trying to kill her too. Had Dominic hired another assassin besides him? And did she know who had put that price on her head?

If it was true, that he’d hired somebody else, then maybe he’d have a better chance at getting out of the deal. And if he was getting out of it, then he had no reason not to help her. She was a paying client. And an extremely valuable asset if he actually got her to work for him—if her penthouse said anything about how much money she was able to rake in from her day job.

“I imagine that had something to do with whatever happened to your face?” He suggested, nodding toward her. The closer he looked, the worse it seemed to be.

She hesitated, then shook her head. “No, that was—“ Stopping herself, she looked at anything besides Harry’s stupid emerald eyes. He couldn’t be trusted. Not yet anyway, and maybe never. He didn’t need to know about Dominic and why she was really begging for his help. Dominic would pay him triple the amount in her backpack to hand her over. So, the less Harry knew the better.

He waited still, concern knitted in his brows. “Who then? Because it looks like they used more than just their hands alone to fuck you up.”

“That doesn’t matter.” She tried to push away the memories from yesterday, the feeling of that metal clashing against her flesh and bone. Sighing, she met Harry’s gaze with sincerity. “Will you help me or not?”

He watched her for a moment, the need to attack whoever had hurt her turning his hands into fists. He’d never felt that way about someone he’d just met before and it fucking terrified him. Ember was nothing to him. A client now, he supposed, but that was it.

And yet, he couldn’t stop thinking about beating some faceless man to death with the same weapon that had been used on her.

Maybe she had been on to something about those anger issues.

He focused himself and considered her question. Was he going to help her? Deep down, he knew there wasn’t really any other option for him. That was why he’d been so adamant to push her away because... well because he’d probably do just about anything she asked him to. And that also terrified him.

He wished he never would have met Dominic all those years ago. Then he wouldn’t be in this fucking situation to begin with.

“Fine.” He finally groaned out between his teeth, after a much too long moment of staring into Ember’s pleading eyes and then recalling how she’d made him feel the last time he’d gotten lost in them. He couldn’t just kick her to the curb… even if he wasn’t doing himself any favors by agreeing to help her.

She let a smile slip onto her mouth but it wasn’t necessarily a happy one more so than it was a relieved one. He figured whatever she was into must be bad if she thought she couldn’t protect herself from it. If the notorious, death-machine that she was, was asking Harry for help.

Harry who was... no one special.

Noah cleared his throat and stood again, slinging her backpack over his shoulder. “There’s an abandoned manufacturing building north of here—” Noah didn’t get much further into giving her directions as Ember nodded. She was more than familiar with all the secret hiding places within Kypa, north or south.

“I know it.” She confirmed.

He arched an impressed brow, “Good. We’ll be there at six. You should probably pack a bag.” His eyes fell down the length of her body again and she had no idea what that meant, but his gaze made her sweat. In a good way. In a way that had certain parts of her body doing very stupid things.

Then his eyes lingered a little too long on her ass. And, yes, maybe she liked it, but he was still just some man she didn’t know.

“Surely you saw what I did to that asshole.” She threatened, turning towards him completely to cut off his view and Noah nodded as he brought his eyes up north again.

“Indeed I did.”

She arched a brow, unsure if he was actually daring her to do the same to him too or not.

But then he gave her that smirk again. “Don’t worry, I’d quite like to keep my hands attached to the rest of my body.”

Harry looked at his friend in disbelief and Noah just shifted his gaze and grinned back at him innocently, pleased with himself. Rolling his eyes, Harry bent to grab his shirt and then found Ember again as he pulled it over his head. “So tomorrow?”

She met his gaze and nodded, hoping she was right to be trusting Harry. He opened his mouth to say something more, but thought better of it. Instead, after a moment, he sighed and grabbed his bag off the bench.

“Try not to die before then.”

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #safetynet

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