CHAPTER 4
MACK
Cue stands behind her with a bottle of rubbing alcohol in his hand, but he has yet to offer it to her. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for—what I’m waiting for. Since I first saw her on those darkened cobblestones, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get rid of her.
Despite what we’ve done, despite taking her here, she is not afraid. She’d have no problem poisoning us the way she poisoned the man who bruised her wrist. And she saw what happened in the alley, the dead asshole that I don’t regret killing in the least.
This is dangerous.
She’s huddled in the corner of the couch now, sandy curls loose around her shoulders, the knees on her yoga pants shredded along with the skin on her knees. But her eyes—when she looks my way, her gaze holds a coldness as deep and absolut
