Page 40

CHAPTER FORTY

THE ROOM WAS dark, damp, and suffocating. The air reeked of decay, the faint hum of fluorescent lights overhead casting a sickly green glow on the cracked concrete walls. My legs felt like lead as I moved forward, each step dragging me closer to a door I didn’t want to open.

But I couldn’t stop.

I gripped the handle, the metal cold and unforgiving under my fingers, and pushed the door open. The creak echoed in the silence, and the sight on the other side made my stomach lurch.

It was her.

Aria.

She was lying on the floor, her small body lifeless, her pale skin marred by bruises and dirt. Her favorite pink dress was torn, stained with something I didn’t want to name. Her hair, usually so carefully braided, was a tangled mess around her face.

“No,” I whispered, my voice cracking. I dropped to my knees, my hands trembling as I reached out to touch her, to wake her up, to make her open those big, bright eyes that had always looked at me like I could do anything.

But she didn’t move.

I tried to scream, but the sound caught in my throat, stuck like a jagged shard of glass. My chest tightened, my breath coming in shallow gasps as the weight of it crushed me.

I’d promised her. I’d promised to keep her safe.

I failed.

“Lucy,” a voice hissed behind me, sharp and mocking.

I spun around, my heart pounding. It was Fang, his grin twisted and cruel. “You can’t save them all,” he said, his voice dripping with venom. “And this one? She’s on you.”

“No,” I said again, louder this time, my hands curling into fists. “You don’t get to take her from me. You don’t—”

The room started to spin, Fang’s laughter ringing in my ears as the walls closed in. I reached for Aria, but she was slipping away, her tiny hand just out of reach.

“Lucy,” Fang’s voice taunted, echoing around me. “You’ll never save them. Never. Now time to pay up.”

I woke up with a start, my chest heaving, my face damp with sweat. The room was dark, but it felt too bright, too loud, like the nightmare was still clinging to me, refusing to let go.

My hands were trembling, clutching at the sheets as if they could ground me. My throat was raw, my breath uneven, but the words slipped out before I could stop them.

“I couldn’t save you,” I murmured, my voice breaking. “But I’ll spend my life bringing down those organizations and avenging you. I’ll save others like you.”

The weight of the promise settled over me, heavy but familiar. It was the same promise I’d made all those years ago, standing over her grave, my heart broken and my soul hollow.

I closed my eyes, willing the tears to stay put. There was no room for them, no time for the weakness they represented.

This wasn’t about me.

It was about her. And every other woman, man, girl or boy like her.

Aria was gone. I couldn’t change that.

But I could make damn sure no one else had to suffer the way she did.

I climbed out of bed, dressed and headed for the door.

I needed a good drink.

THE BAR WAS tucked away on the edge of nowhere, the kind of place you only stumbled upon if you were lost or looking to disappear. It suited me just fine. The neon "Open" sign buzzed weakly in the window, casting a faint red glow onto the cracked pavement. I hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open, the low hum of conversation and the faint twang of country music spilling out into the night.

Inside, the air was warm and heavy with the smell of stale beer and fried food. A few locals were scattered across the room, hunched over their drinks or murmuring quietly. Nobody paid me any attention as I slid onto a stool at the far end of the bar, as close to the shadows as I could get.

The bartender, a tall guy with a mop of gray hair and an absent smile, wandered over. “What’ll it be?”

“Whiskey,” I replied. “Neat.”

He nodded and poured without comment, sliding the glass across the counter. I wrapped my hands around it, staring into the amber liquid like it held answers. But my thoughts were as cloudy as ever.

I’d been running for weeks now, trying to stay ahead of my past, trying to make sense of everything. And no matter how far I went, Spinner was always there, in the back of my mind. His face. His voice. The way he’d looked at me before everything went to hell.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memories to stay buried. There wasn’t a place for him in my mind anymore.

“Mind if I sit here?”

The voice was soft, feminine, but with an edge that immediately put me on alert. I opened my eyes to see a woman sliding onto the stool beside me, her bright red nails tapping the bar as she settled in. She was in her late forties, maybe early fifties, with dark hair teased into perfect waves and makeup that was just a little too heavy for the lighting in this dump. She didn’t wait for an invitation.

“I guess it’s not up to me,” I muttered, taking a sip of my whiskey.

She smiled, unbothered by my tone. “Name’s Crystal,” she said, extending a hand.

I glanced at it but didn’t shake it. “Lucy,” I said reluctantly, keeping my voice neutral.

“Pretty name,” she said, withdrawing her hand and resting it on the bar instead. “You from around here?”

“No.”

She chuckled, like she was amused by my short answers. “Didn’t think so. You’ve got that look about you.”

“What look?”

She tilted her head, studying me with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Like you’re carryin’ the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

I tensed, my fingers tightening around my glass. “You don’t know me.”

“No, but I’d like to,” she said, her tone light but her gaze sharp. “A woman traveling alone, stopping in a place like this? There’s a story there.”

I didn’t answer, keeping my eyes on the bar. My instincts were screaming at me to get up and leave, but I forced myself to stay put. She wasn’t threatening, exactly, but there was something about her that didn’t sit right.

She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping as if we were sharing a secret. “You know, you remind me of someone.”

I finally turned to look at her, my suspicion flaring. “That so?”

“Yeah,” she said, her smile softening. “Someone I used to know. She had the same fire in her eyes. Same... restless energy.”

I took another sip of whiskey, letting the burn steady me. “I’m not restless,” I said evenly. “Just passing through.”

“Sure,” she said, her tone as smooth as honey. “But if you ever need someone to talk to, I’m a good listener.”

I forced a tight smile. “Thanks, but I’m fine.”

She didn’t take the hint, her gaze lingering on me like she was trying to peel back my layers. “You know, it’s not easy being out here on your own. Sometimes, it helps to have people you can trust.”

That did it. I pushed back from the bar, the stool scraping against the floor as I stood. “I don’t need anything from anyone,” I said sharply.

Her smile faltered for the first time, but she recovered quickly, raising her hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I didn’t mean to push.”

I didn’t respond, tossing a few bills onto the bar before grabbing my jacket. As I turned to leave, she called after me.

“Lucy,” she said, her voice laced with meaning. “Just... be careful out there, okay?”

I hesitated, my hand on the door. Something about the way she said it made my skin crawl. Without looking back, I shoved the door open and stepped into the warm night air.

As I walked to Oliver’s car, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Crystal knew more than she was letting on. The way she looked at me, the things she said—it wasn’t random.

She knew something.

And I didn’t plan on sticking around long enough to find out what.