Page 70 of The Stolen Dagger

I should’ve waited for Drew. I shouldn’t have come here alone.

“Now,” Hunter turned serious then, his voice deep and growly, “where’s the dagger?”

I shifted in place and looked around the apartment for an exit strategy. There wasn’t one. I was trapped.

I looked back at Hunter and squared my shoulders for what I was to say next.

“It’s not here,” I said cautiously. “I don’t have it.”

Hunter stepped forward. “Don’t lie to me. Where the fuck is it?”

“I’m not lying.” I stood my ground. “It’s back in Vegas with everything else I left behind.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “Looks like you came a long way for nothing.”

“No!” Hunter kicked a broken table leg, scattering some of the other debris that was littered around him. “That can’t be true! We looked everywhere.” He paced back and forth, seething. “Your place. And Adrian’s. Even that old lady’s house next door. It wasn’t there!”

I shuffled sideways, closer to my open bedroom on the right. If I could just make it there, I could lock the door behind me. It wouldn’t hold him for long, but I could go out the window and down the fire-escape. He might follow me, but I was smaller and faster than he was.

I could make it.

Focused on my escape, I didn’t notice Hunter approach me until it was too late.

He grabbed me by the shoulders, squeezing so hard I gasped at the pain that flared where I had landed on my shoulder a few days ago. He leaned down to my height and roared in my face.

“Don’t even think about it, bitch!” Hunter shook me in place, but my attention was on something behind him.

What is that?

“When I get you back to Vegas, I’m gonna—” Hunter grunted, and his eyes rolled back then closed as he slumped to the floor unconscious.

“Man, that kid’s annoying,” a strange man said a few feet in front of me.

Oh, my God.

Panic gripped me anew as one threat replaced another.

It was the man in the hoodie. The man who attacked me in the library and who ran me and Leah off the road.

I took a step back, but the man followed, side-stepping Hunter’s unconscious body.

“Whoa, little bird.” The man raised his arms as if to show he wasn’t a threat. “I don’t mean any harm.”

“W—why did you do that?” I pointed down at Hunter in shock. Not believing him but still confused. “Who are you?”

The man sighed, almost relieved. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, little bird. I’m trying to help. I’m on your side. I’m sorry if I scared you and about your shoulder.” The man shrugged, which was almost comical at his size because he was built like a linebacker. “But you got me good with that mace. I’ll give you that.”

I eyed the stranger, more confused than anything.

He was trying to help? Well, he wasn’t doing a very good job, attacking me and all.

I eyed him curiously, trying to place him. He sounded like he knew me, but that wasn’t possible. I’d never seen this man before in my life.

Why would he help me if he wanted the dagger, too?

The man reached up and rubbed at his bald head. “The name’s Mack,” he said, “like the truck.”

I would have laughed if I wasn’t still buzzing with residual adrenaline and fear.

Mack, like the truck, was a perfect name for him, considering his size and foreboding presence. Not to mention the man looked like he’d lived a dark and dangerous life just by the amount of scars visible on his exposed arms, neck, and face. He wasn’t someone you’d ever want to cross paths with.