I’d made it my business to find out everything there was to know about her, which was when I’d discovered that her sister had gone missing. Just snatched off the side of the road, only eighteen years old. Sloane’s family were Christian to the core—promise rings, hymns every Sunday, no cursing, no drinking, the whole nine yards. Except when her sister had been kidnapped, Sloane had stopped going to church. Didn’t wear the cross I knew her mother had given her. She’d given up believing because it was just too hard to keep her faith alive when something so terrible had marred her life.

And then on top of everything else, and in keeping with the truly vile motherfucker that I am, I’d taken her virginity.

I’d found out Eli Harris was bribing her when he’d shown up to pay his dues to Charlie. He’d been bragging about the trade he’d made with her as he handed over the protection money he paid each month to ensure Sammy and the boys didn’t fuck up his business. The sick bastard thought it was hilarious that he was about to sell her ass to the highest bidder, a guy I knew from reputation alone. A guy who liked to beat his women black and blue while he screwed them. I’d paid big to take his place, double Eli’s month’s protection money, and then afterward I’d made Eli spill everything, everything he’d known about Alexis Romera’s disappearance. The pimp had said it was Charlie all along. I hadn’t believed him. I’d killed him for breathing the very words, and Charlie had been mortally offended when I’d confronted him about it.

You know me better than that, Son. I’m signed up for some questionable dealings but I’m not fucking interested in pussy. The karma on that shit is too raw; now get the hell outta my face.

I’d had my one night with Sloane and then severed all ties. Left her with no way of knowing what Eli was promising to tell her. It had been harsh, yeah, sure, since she’d carried out her end of the bargain and never gotten the lead she was after. But fuck, I’d at least made sure she’d enjoyed it. Made sure she wouldn’t have nightmares about my face every second she closed her eyes. I know I could have just walked away, left her in that hotel room still a virgin, unspoiled, but then again I couldn’t have. This is me we’re talking about. I had to have her. Besides, she’d kept that one little titbit a secret, anyway. Maybe if I’d known she was still riding on her V card, things would have gone differently.

Yeah, right.

“You’re sure about this?” I tighten my grip around Frankie’s neck and his eyes damn near bug out of his head.

“Yeah, man! Yeah, I’m sure!”

Screw you, Charlie. I stoop and pick up the piece from off the floor where Frankie dropped it. Desert Eagle: I don’t usually kill with guns, but sometimes for a work of art you’ve just gotta make an exception.

“Zeth! Zeth, man, don’t! I’m sorry, okay? I’m—I’m sorry I shot you!”

Begging makes me feel queasy. I do it. I pull the trigger and Frankie’s head kicks back like a rock-em-sock-em robot, except there’s blood. A whole lot of blood and fragments of bone, like little pieces of smashed china.

“Why am I right all the time?”

I turn and Lacey’s standing there in the doorway, the heel of her right palm pressed into her sternum. She’s soaked to the skin and panting.

“Lacey—”

“Don’t worry about it,” she tells me. “I already knew.” She stumbles into the room and looks down on Frankie, eyebrows banked together, mouth drawn down in a confused pout. I’d like to think this is her first dead body, only I know better. She faces me, holds her hand out. “Come on. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

I don’t take her hand.

“No. Not the hospital. I’m not going there.”

I’m not gonna risk seeing Sloane again. Not until I hear the truth come out of Charlie’s mouth. Even if I have to beat it out of him.

I will learn the truth.

"Ten CCs of epinephrine. Call ahead to the O.R, let them know we're coming up."

"Yeah, I…I got it."

I look up and the skinny intern with the bad haircut is still standing there, staring at the guy bleeding out on the gurney in front of him. The guy I'm buried wrist deep inside. "What are you waiting for? RUN!"

The fresh intake of interns is always a nightmare. They're so green they’re absolutely no use to anyone, and yet in between people severing their limbs in car crashes, people getting shot, and the world falling down around our heads, we are supposed to teach them how to fix people. I'm supposed to teach them, which is insane because I've only just learned how to do all of this myself.

"He's crashing, doctor. Adrenaline?" the nurse asks. Adrenaline is the last thing this guy needs. His heart is already near spent as it is. What he needs is the gaping hole in his stomach to be repaired. God knows how many of his internal organs are shredded in there. I'm not going to know until I can open him up properly and clear out all of the blood. Right now, I can't tell a damn thing other than the fact that this guy is going to die unless we do something. And soon.

"Let's just get him in the elevator," I tell the female nurse. She nods, unlocks the gurney wheels, and is barking orders at her team without even blinking. Grace is a pro. She'd probably be able to save this guy all on her own if she had to. Half the nurses in this hospital probably could if push came to shove. They’re all massively undervalued, underpaid, and overworked.