Chapter 33

thirty-three

Wrenlee

Alice waves when I appear from the elevator, shooting me a big smile full of straight teeth. Her lips are painted her usual bright red, and she’s in a low key, but still cute outfit of black leggings and black sweater dress combo, paired with black boots. The only pop of color aside from the red of her lips and nails is the matching red scarf.

Yep, Kane’s going to be all over her. Like white on rice. Literally.

“Happy Thanksgiving!” I say as I stop close, leaning in to give her a quick, friendly hug. I don’t realize until after I’ve gone in for it that Alice isn’t the hugging kind. I don’t think I’ve ever touched her, by accident or otherwise.

When she pats my back awkwardly, I know I’ve made a mistake and pull away with a shy, “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it.” She waves me off, but there’s a tightness to her face. “I’m just awkward.”

“S’all good.” I’m ready to move on. “Dinner is almost done.”

She raises a brow. “Your man get it catered?” Her eyes roam the lobby. “This place is seriously nice.”

“I cooked.” I shrug when her brows lift, head cocking to the side in clear surprise. “I like cooking. I was raised by my dad, so learning to cook was necessity. Dad can burn water, I swear it.” I laugh softly thinking of Dad. My heart gives a tight little squeeze, because this is the first Thanksgiving I’ll spend without him. Quietly, I add, “But he gives the best hugs.”

Alice frowns, a funny look I can’t read passing through her eyes. “What happened to your mom?”

The question almost sounds pulled from her. Like she’s not sure she wants the answer.

I answer anyway, “She left. After that, I donno.”

Something clouds in her eyes, but she sets her jaw in the seconds before she gives me another bright smile. I’m about to ask about her family when she says, “I brought pie. I’m no cook, and definitely not a baker, so it’s store-bought, but I wanted to contribute.” She pulls her lips to the side. “I might have bought more than I can carry alone.”

It’s nice of her to pitch in. “I’ll help.”

We walk from the lobby together, getting a nod from the doorman as we pass. I give him a smile and a friendly, “Happy Thanksgiving,” that he replies kindly to in return. On the sidewalk, I lean close to Alice. “We should bring him down a plate of pie. Sucks he’s working on the holiday.”

She gives me another look, the skin between her brows furrowing before she sets her gaze forward and walks just a little faster. A bubble of unease swells in my belly that I ignore as I say, “I didn’t realize you had a car.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh.”

When I fold my arms over my chest against the chill, she explains, “I borrowed it. It’s not far. Parking in this city is a bitch.”

“Yeah.” She’s not wrong about that.

We walk a couple more minutes before she points. “It’s just up there. I can see it.”

I should have worn a jacket. If I’d known we were hiking, I would have. My phone chimes and I pull it out, seeing Cash’s name on the screen.

CASH

All good?

Yep. Just walking to Alice’s car. She brought pie.

I’m on my way down.

We’ll be right there.

“Your man?”

“Yeah. Remember when I said he’s protective?” Alice scowls, but nods. I go on. “He’s on his way downstairs. Like he worries I might be crushed to death by pie.”

“He’s on his way down?” Is that a note of distress I hear in her voice? Why would she be distressed?

“Yeah…”

“Well, we better hurry, then.” She quickens her already swift pace. “I don’t want to make a bad impression on your guy before I even meet him.”

“Oh,” I shake my head. “Don’t worry about that.”

“There’s my car.” The lights flash as she unlocks it with the fob, pulling the passenger door open and lifting two pies from the passenger seat. “The others are on the floor. Didn’t want to risk them sliding off and making a mess of the car.”

“No problem.” I’m already leaning into the car, reaching for the pies when I feel something sharp stab my neck. Hand flying to cover the bite—I’m sure it’s a bite—I begin to rise. Forgetting about the car I’m hunched down in; I clap the back of my head off the roof and let out a string of syllables that fail to form words. My vision blurs at the edges and I think I wobble.

Do I fall into the car or am I pushed?

The door slams shut. I catch the scent of a sweet spice as I blink long and lazy blinks, my eyes impossibly heavy. I’m so tired. Where am I?

Something shifts beside me, and I turn my head slowly to the side, seeing Alice. My friend. I start to smile but can’t. I’m too tired. My body is heavy.

The darkness hovering at the side of my vision is too much. I want to sleep, and yet somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I shouldn’t.

“Don’t worry,” Alice says soothingly. There’s a sweetness to her voice that feels too much. Too sugary. So sugary the sweet is almost bitter. A contradiction that makes little sense in the murky haze of my mind.

“Worry?” My voice doesn’t sound right, the word a whispered slur.

“I didn’t give you enough to put you to sleep.”

“En-ou-f?” Why won’t my tongue work?

“Of the drug, silly. I don’t want you asleep. We won’t have a whole lot of time together.” She looks at her watch and smiles. “I have a plane to catch, after all.”

At the mention of a drug and the memory of the pinch I’d felt in my neck, I will my mind to cling to consciousness. “Yooouudugmeee?”

Alice’s laughter is light and airy, but it hits me like a firecracker to the chest. It’s an odd sensation to feel so much feeling—and yet be incapable of any action at all. I’m so powerless.

“You have no idea how easy it is to find people willing to steal from hospitals. Christ, these people take oaths to do no harm, right? And here they are selling sedatives on the street to whoever’s got the green stuff to buy it.” She makes a noise in the back of her throat, drumming her fingertips to a tune only she can hear. The radio in the car isn’t on.

Or maybe I just can’t hear it beyond the buzzing in my ears.

She continues, “Guess that’s what happens when the government forces people to live on unliveable wages. They start finding other ways to make money, so long as it puts food in their kids mouths and powder up the nose.” She giggles again. My blood runs hot and then cold and hot again. I can’t regulate.

What did she give me?

“Whahdyouiveme?” I ramble the question, only partially surprised when she answers.

“Fuck if I know. I told him what I wanted, and he told me he’d get it. I didn’t ask questions.”

How is this happening to me? Why?

“Why?” The word comes out clear, if not quietly, in the space between us.

“Why?” She lands wild eyes on me, ignoring traffic for too long. “You really don’t know?”

I can’t shake my head. I just blink at her.

She turns away from me and says through the windshield, “Vengeance,” just as my phone rings. I try to reach for it, just touch it with my fingertips when Alice snatches it between bright red talons. “I’ll take that, thank you very much.”