2024-12-21 23:24:32Chapter Nine.
Eve’s POV
After searching for Auston for what felt like two weeks straight, I was starting to freak out. Not that I’d admit that to anyone, but yeah, I was worried. I’d checked his workplace—three times, actually—and got nothing. The bank manager, this stiff guy with a shiny bald head and a permanent frown, told me Auston hadn’t shown up in days. He didn’t seem thrilled about it either. Honestly, though? That was his problem, not mine.
Still, something about it didn’t sit right with me. Auston wasn’t the type to just disappear. Not without a reason.
That day, after the bank shut its doors and the employees trickled out like they were escaping a prison break, I parked myself outside, waiting. And then I saw her. Aliyah.
Her name alone made my teeth clench. Aliyah. Auston had some kind of “history” with her. Don’t ask me what that history was because every time I thought about it, my brain spiraled into places it didn’t need to go. Jealousy? Maybe. But screw that—this wasn’t about me. It was about Auston, and if anyone might know where he was, it was her.
She was... unimpressive. I don’t mean that in a bitchy way—okay, maybe a little—but she wasn’t anything special. Slim, sure, but kind of plain. She had these wide, almost too-big eyes and wore one of those outfits that covered everything. Like, everything. If I hadn’t known better, I’d have said she was trying to blend into the sidewalk. The kind of girl that society loves to paint as a saint, making people like me look like we’re tearing the world apart just by breathing.
Whatever. I wasn’t here to judge her fashion choices. I had questions, and she was going to give me answers.
I leaned casually against my car, waiting for her to pass. When she did, I stepped in front of her path.
“Hey, excuse me,” I started, trying to sound polite. “My name is—”
“I know who you are,” she cut me off, her tone polite but clipped. Her hands clutched the strap of her bag like it might fly away. “What do you want?”
Alright then. Straight to the point. I could work with that. I smirked, tilting my head just enough to catch her gaze.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” I said, keeping my voice steady, “but Auston’s been missing for a few days now. I’m not saying you’ve got anything to do with it, but if you have the slightest clue where he might be, I’d appreciate it if you’d share.”
She blinked, her expression neutral, but something flickered in her eyes. “To be honest, I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head. “Auston’s just a friend from work. Maybe he went to visit his parents or took a trip or something. I wouldn’t know. And, um, I don’t think I should be talking to you about this, ma’am.”
Ma’am? Really? The word hit me like a slap. I wasn’t old enough to be a ma’am. I let out a dry laugh, brushing it off.
“It’s fine. We can talk,” I said, taking a step closer. “You don’t have to act like I’m going to bite.”
Her gaze darted to the ground, then back up to me. “I really don’t know anything,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. And just like that, she slipped past me, walking away like I’d asked her to spill state secrets.
I stood there for a second, watching her retreat. Something about the way she acted—it didn’t sit right with me. She wasn’t just being polite or shy. She was hiding something. I clenched my fists, the leather of my gloves creaking as I fought the urge to chase her down right then and there.
Instead, I turned and got into my car. From the corner of my eye, I watched as she flagged down a taxi. My gut twisted. There was no way I was letting this go.
Once her taxi pulled onto the street, I followed. Careful, keeping my distance. The game was on, and if she had answers, I was going to get them. One way or another.
•••
Auston's POV
For a guy hiding from gang members, I sure had a habit of playing with fire. Staying at Aliyah’s place was safe, sure, but the four walls of her apartment felt like a prison. So I’d slip out. A hooded sweatshirt, my head low, and I’d roam my old neighborhood like a ghost haunting its past.
That’s where I saw him—Timmy. My old pal. He was sprawled out on a bench, his clothes barely holding together, his face thinner than I remembered. The last time I’d seen Timmy, he was in a hospital bed, patched up from the mess I’d dragged him into. Seeing him out here like this… it hit me harder than I expected.
I reached into my pocket, feeling a few crumpled bills, and started toward him. But then I stopped.
Them.
The gang.
Those same rascals Eve’s boyfriend—fiancé, whatever the hell he is—had sent after me. They moved like sharks, circling Timmy as he lay there. My chest tightened. Timmy’s hands went up, defensive, his lips moving too fast to hear, but his body language screamed *don’t hurt me.*
The youngest thug—a wiry guy with anger stitched into his very DNA—struck first. A solid punch to Timmy’s gut that folded him in half.
I clenched my fists and ducked into the shadows, watching. Around us, people stood frozen, useless. No one dared step in. This neighborhood was packed with cowards, and I hated every single one of them for it.
My wolf stirred inside me, a low growl vibrating through my chest, but he wasn’t strong enough to take over. Not yet. That primal rage was simmering, though. I felt it in my blood, in the way my nails dug into my palms.
When the thugs finally left, laughing like hyenas, I darted toward Timmy. His nose was bleeding, his eyes half-closed. I crouched next to him, keeping my hood low, and whispered, “Timmy, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
His head tilted up, and his bleary eyes focused on me. “Auston.” His voice was weak, barely a rasp, but it still carried that old familiarity.
“It’s my fault,” I said, pulling the cash out of my pocket. Forty bucks, maybe. It felt pathetic in my hand. “Here. Take this.”
Timmy shook his head, his cracked lips curving into the faintest smile. “You do too much, sir. Always have.”
“Stop saying that,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I intended. “It’s not enough. I’ll be back, okay?”
He just nodded, wiping the blood from his face as I turned and walked away.
•••
I wasn’t thinking straight when I followed the gang. My brain said *walk away,* but the wolf in me said *rip them apart.* It was an itch I couldn’t scratch, a pressure building in my chest that wouldn’t go away until I acted on it.
I found them in one of the alleys, laughing over something stupid, probably still high on the adrenaline of beating up a starving man. They didn’t notice me at first, but one of them turned, the one who always had a smart-ass comment locked and loaded.
“Yo, hood guy,” he sneered, stepping toward me. “You lost or something? Miss your way home?”
I didn’t say a word. I just swung.
My fist collided with his face, and pain shot through my knuckles, but the satisfaction of watching him crumble to the ground made it worth it. He hit the pavement hard, out cold.
The girl with them screamed and bolted, leaving the other guy to face me. His eyes narrowed, and then they widened as recognition dawned.
“Wait a second,” he said, pointing a finger at me. “You’re him. The guy sticking his neck out for that Eve chick.” He grinned, an ugly thing that made my stomach churn. “Oh, Marcus is gonna love this—”
Before he could finish, he lunged at me with a dagger. I ducked, barely dodging the blade, and threw a punch to his gut. He staggered back, dropping the knife.
I didn’t think. I acted.
I picked up the blade and drove it into his stomach.
His scream echoed off the alley walls, and something inside me snapped. The wolf surged forward, feeding off my anger, my fear, my need to end this threat once and for all. My hand moved on its own, plunging the blade into him again and again.
When I finally stopped, he was a heap on the ground, gasping for air. Blood pooled around him, the metallic scent sharp in my nose.
I dropped the knife, my chest heaving.
What have I done?
The realization hit me like a freight train. I’d crossed a line I couldn’t uncross. I was a murderer now, and no amount of excuses or justifications would change that.
I ran.
The shadows swallowed me as I bolted out of the alley, my hood back in place, my heart pounding so loud it drowned out everything else. I didn’t stop running until my legs gave out, and even then, the wo
lf inside me growled with satisfaction.
But I wasn’t satisfied.
I was in deep shit, and I knew it.
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