The ride was quiet.
Too quiet.
I sat in the passenger seat of a sleek black SUV, blood dried on my hands, my skin cold despite the heater blowing in gentle gusts. Duke drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the gearshift. We hadn't spoken since he helped me to my feet back in the warehouse.
I stared out the window, watching the city blur by. Dark streets, empty intersections, and glowing storefronts all asleep. It felt like I was watching the world from underwater. Or a dream. Everything was slow and wrong and muffled.
Everything was uncomfortable. My whole life was about to feel that way.
"You okay?" Duke asked finally, his voice low. What kind of question was that? Why would I be okay? I was supposed to be having a normal evening. A slow drive back to my apartment after my shift, microwaved Thai food, and a snuggle in my warm bed. No, the blood. Not the threats. Not being forced to leave all that I know for an unwanted life of crime.
I gave a dry laugh, the sound catching in my throat. "Do I look okay?"
"Honestly?" He glanced over at me, lips twitching. "You look like someone who just got yanked out of her normal life and thrown into the deep end of the criminal underworld."
"Cool. Thanks. Super comforting."
He let the silence settle again, then said, "You did good, by the way. With Florian. He's going to be seeing you often. He's always getting into trouble and getting hurt for it."
I didn't answer. I just hugged my arms tighter around myself.
Duke cleared his throat. "Do you have any family? Close friends?"
"Parents," I muttered. "They're on vacation in Greece."
He hummed in response, letting us settle into a silence.
We pulled off the main road and onto a side street flanked by a tall iron gate. It buzzed open when Duke tapped something on his dash, and soon we were winding through a narrow driveway that led into a massive building that looked more like a converted mansion than a base of operations.
"This is… where you live?" I asked, blinking at the size of it.
"Where a lot of us do. It's Jury's estate. We call it The House. Easier than saying 'mob headquarters' out loud."
He parked in a side garage, then got out and opened the door for me. I didn't even have the energy to feel offended at being treated like some damsel. My legs were still jelly.
Inside, the halls were dim but elegant: dark wood floors, clean, minimalist walls, and soft lighting that gave everything a weirdly expensive glow.
He led me down a hall and up a flight of stairs, past what looked like an office, a lounge with leather chairs, and a large kitchen where a few men were sitting and whispering over bowls of something hot.
Eventually, he stopped in front of a plain white door and opened it.
"Guest room," he said. "You'll stay here until Jury says otherwise. There's a bathroom, fresh towels, and clean clothes in the dresser."
I stepped inside, slowly. The room was simple. Clean and soft with pale bedding and blackout curtains. The moment I saw the bed, my knees nearly buckled again.
"If you need anything," Duke said behind me, "you call me. Not Carter. Not Wes. Me. Got it?"
"Yeah." My voice came out hoarse. "Got it."
I turned to thank him, but he was already stepping out, pausing just long enough to say, "Try to sleep. You'll need it."
Then someone else appeared at the end of the hall.
A woman.
Tall, sharp-featured, dark red lipstick against warm skin. Her long black hair was twisted into an elegant bun, and her dress looked like it cost more than my car. She eyed me up and down like I was something stuck to the bottom of her heel. I frowned.
"Is this her?" she asked Duke, her voice silky and cold.
"Yeah," Duke replied, clearly tired. "Nora Stafford. She's with us now."
The woman raised a brow. "With us?"
"Doctor. She saved Florian."
"Hmm."
She took a step forward, stopping just short of entering my room. "We'll see how long this will last."
"Sally," Duke said warningly.
She turned her gaze to him slowly, like it took effort to look away from me. "What? All I'm saying is that Jury's going to regret this."
Then she left, her heels clicking down the hall like nails being hammered in.
I exhaled and looked at Duke.
He rubbed the back of his neck. "That's Sally. She's… Jury's advisor in a way."
"She doesn't like me."
He smirked. "She doesn't like most people."
"Do those people happen to be women specifically?"
The silence that followed was loud.
I nodded, already exhausted by the drama I could feel coming. "Just great."
"In her defense, she's the only woman in this organization. Well, she was until you arrived."
"None of this information is helping my case."
Duke offered me a half-smile. "Get some much-needed rest, doc. Tomorrow's going to be a whole new kind of nightmare."
Then he left me alone in the soft, strange room. I shoved my hand in my pocket, mindlessly digging for my phone. My hand gripped onto nothing, and I sighed. No phone. No one to call.
And for the first time since this all started, I let myself collapse onto the bed and fall apart.