THE KING OF THE GOLD SYSTEM GAMING

MY EYES FLICK DOWN TO THE CLOCK

The scrawny guy manning the valet stand gives me a terrified look as he takes my ticket, and I tell myself to stop giving him the death glare. I even fish out a hundred from my wallet to tip him when he returns with my Jeep.

 

“Thank you,” he squeaks out.

I give him a parting grunt as I get into the driver’s seat and toss my duffle onto the passenger seat. My eyes flick down to the clock, and I frown seeing that it’s only a little after midnight.

My fingers tap on the wheel rhythmically. Aur is right about one thing, something is off.

I only make it a few streets before the music blasting through my speakers is cut off by an incoming call.

I swear, if one of the guys is—

“Incoming call from unknown number,” the robotic voice announces.

Without giving it much thought, I accept the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you,” Panther’s voice comes through in that high pitch she typically uses when streaming. “No one elsewas answering and I had your number from Syd and well, yeah. It’s Panther, by the way.” Her babbling trails off.

Shock and confusion bubble before annoyance flares in at the offhanded jab that I’m far down her list of preferred people.

“It’s fine,” I tell her. “I wasn’t busy.”

“Oh. Okay, cool. Cool, cool, cool.”

I wait for her to elaborate, but silence drags on.

“What’s wrong?”

“Oh, it’s nothing really.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, no. Um, I just finished a stream and–” she pauses, cutting herself off “–you know what, I’m sorry. Ignore this call. It’s fine. I’m overreacting. Sorry, Shield. Have a good night. Bye!”

“Wait,” I call out, but I’m too late. She hangs up and the music returns to my speaker. “Fuck,” I curse under my breath as I flick on my blinker and switch lanes before making a U-turn. My foot presses harder on the accelerator as I hit the redial button.

It rings once before she sends me to voicemail.

This woman is going to kill my sanity.

“You have a new text message; would you like me to read it?” my car asks.

“Yes.”

“Ok.” There’s a short pause. “I’m totally fine. Seriously. Smiley face emoji. Sorry. Praying hands emoji.” Another pause. “Would you like to reply?”

“No,” I grind out as I work my jaw back and forth.

There would be no getting through to her. She is too damn stubborn for her own good. Always hiding behind that perfectly pink exterior.

It takes me twenty minutes, but I finally swing into a guest parking spot beside her apartment complex. The engine barely shuts off before I’m out of the car and stalking to the entrance.There isn’t even a doorman at this time of night to stop anyone from coming in.

Fucking bullshit.

I don’t even bother waiting for the elevator. I take the stairs two at a time up to the third floor. When I get to her apartment, I rap on the door.

“Panther, open up.”

There’s no response.

“Panther, I will break this door down if you do not open it. You know I can.”

I hear a muffled, “Shit,” followed by some shuffling before the door snicks open a few inches.

The buzzing in my ears intensifies as I stare down at the infuriating woman before me. Panther’s puffy lips are pursed tightly as she looks up at me briefly before averting her eyes to the right.

“You came?”

“You called.”

I give the door a nudge, pushing my way into her apartment.

Panther’s pink obsession is a mirror to Maker’s love for blue; they both make it their entire personality. Part of me used to think her whole pink thing was just a gimmick, but one look at her apartment—which looks like a unicorn and a fairy had a love child—is all you need as proof that even her blood would run rosy.

“Sure, come in. Make yourself at home.”

I turn around to see her fold her arms protectively over her chest, and I force myself to look at her unnaturally blue eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“All right.” I shrug before dropping down on her bubbly couch.Thing is fucking uncomfortable.

“What are you doing?” Her fingers tighten on her biceps, biting into the fabric of her pastel cardigan.

“Making myself at home.” I pull out my phone and swipe it open, aimlessly scrolling.

She lets out an unamused scoff. “Seriously?”

I say nothing and it furthers her annoyance as she stalks over to me.

“No, seriously, what are you going to do? Camp here all night? This isn’t funny.” Her voice deepens and the ends of her words cut off, her Irish lilt peeking through.

“You didn’t call me for no reason, and I’m not leaving until I know why.” I look up at her. “Plus, you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“It’s not a compliment.”

She lets out a frustrated groan and stamps her foot before spinning around and stalking into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

Not even a minute later, the door flings back open and she stomps over to me and points a single sharp nail at me.

“Fine, you want to know so badly, Mr. Can’t Mind His Own Business? The police called me because someone tried to swat me again while I was streaming.”

My blood runs cold as the Antarctic Ocean, and any amusement flees my body.

“What?”

“It’s fine. They knew it was a false alarm. It just made me feel a little off, so I called you. But I’m fine.”

I fucking hate that word.

Fine.

Such bullshit. She isn’t fine. None of this isfine.

I stand up, placing myself inches away from her. Panther’s eyes flare as she takes a small step back.

“It’s not fine. Do they know who called it in?”

She averts her gaze to my chest.

“Panther.”

“No,” she hisses through clenched teeth. “They still haven’t tracked them down. Something about cell tower pinging and stuff.”

I sidestep her, making my way into her bedroom. My eyes dart around before landing on the pink suitcase that is still haphazardly full of the random clothes and shoes Leyla threw into it two weeks ago. As if I needed another sign Panther isn’t doingfine.

I throw the lid closed and zip it up before rolling it out of the room.

“What are you doing?”

“You can’t stay here.”