Wretched (Never After Series)(40)

“Call Zeke,” I instruct. “Tell him we need to meet at the cleaners.”

Brayden swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

I snap my fingers in his face. “Hello? You alive in there? Do it. He’ll know what it means.”

And then I spin around and walk out the door, marching back to the car and sliding inside, reaching into the glove compartment with shaky hands, grabbing the baby wipes to try and scrub off the blood.





20





NICHOLAS





I don’t speak on the drive back to the estate.

Eveline doesn’t either, her stained hands trembling slightly where they’re sitting in her lap. I can’t figure out whether it’s from adrenaline or if it’s because she isn’t as cold blooded as she tries to appear. I hate myself for caring either way.

My mind is flying in a thousand different directions. Regret for not stopping her. Unease because I’ve already half convinced myself it’s okay. That it was necessary for me to stand by and do nothing.

If I had stepped in and saved them, it would have blown my cover, and to be completely honest, saving two drug dealers is low on my priority list. The vengeful part of me believes they got what they deserved.

Even worse is that through it all, I don’t feel angry with Eveline. All I really want is to make sure she’s okay. And that’s bullshit, because she’s the one who caused everything in the first place.

I don’t want to face what that means about me, because while not showing emotion is important to the job, I’m still a federal agent. I’m supposed to care. But when it comes to degenerates who willingly put poison in drugs, causing overdoses and death, I’m finding it hard to.

Eveline jumps out of the car the second we hit the circle drive, flying up the steps and into her home. I idle, my fingers tight on the steering wheel, warring with myself over what I know I should do and what I want to do.

What I should do is go to Seth and call it in. Let Cap know about the recent developments, so we can stockpile more evidence for the case. There are dead bodies piled up in Kinland Heights, and blood on Eveline’s hands. There’s a mound of heroin that could lead us closer to figuring out who the hell we’re actually trying to pin.

Instead, I’m stagnant in my car, the rumble of the engine vibrating beneath me and the heat warming my skin as it blasts through the vents. I have no clue why I’m staying, waiting for… who knows what? But regardless, the minutes continue to tick by and here I am. Finally, after what feels like hours, I decide to leave.

To do the right thing.

The only thing.

I take the car out of park, but before I can step on the gas, something catches my attention, creeping along the perimeter of the mansion. I squint my eyes, trying to make it out.

It’s a person—a small person—with a messy bun and a black hoodie hiding their figure.

Eveline.

I’m turning off the car and throwing open the door before I can second-guess myself, jogging quickly so I don’t lose sight of her as she escapes into the woods lining the back of the house.

The sudden chill in the air stings my face as I hurry after her, the full moon casting an eerie glow on the darkened forest. I shiver, my leather jacket barely enough to keep me warm.

I stay far enough behind that she doesn’t see me, and I wonder where the hell she’s going, because it seems as if she’s walking into the middle of nowhere. Maybe she’s more rattled from tonight than she let on. I don’t know how many minutes tick by as I follow her deeper into the woods, but it’s enough to make my legs ache, and my mouth go dry, when suddenly, the ground shifts and I stumble, the grass and branches turning into faded yellow bricks.

My lungs squeeze tight as I stare down at my feet.

The bricks themselves are crumbling and covered in overgrown weeds, but they’re there nonetheless, and my brain buzzes with theories. Is it a coincidence their strip club is named The Yellow Brick, when this is in their backyard?

I make my way forward, following the winding yellow until we reach a small clearing in the trees. Eveline slips inside the front door of a small, run-down cottage.

Holy shit.

I’ve spent hours pouring over architectural blue prints and satellite pictures of this land, but somehow, I had no idea this existed.

Hustling forward, I slip in the door after her. I have no interest in hiding. But I should have known better than to think she wouldn’t realize she was being tailed, because the second I step inside, she’s on me, her gun in my face as I’m shoved harshly.

“Jesus,” I bite out, pain radiating through my skull as it slaps against the wall.

“I should have known it was you following me,” she gripes.

“I just wanted to check on you.” Heat floods through my veins when her body presses against mine, and my hands shoot out to grasp at her waist.

She purses her lips, relaxing her grip. “Consider me checked.”

My cock hardens when I see her bare face without a speck of makeup, and my thumbs caress her skin before I can stop myself. My mind screams at me to get it the fuck together, but my body has different ideas, the way it always does when it comes to her.

I can’t stand it.

“You’re trigger happy as fuck, has anyone ever told you that?” I snap.