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3. Pile of Rubble
It never ceases to surprise me that I tumble headfirst into holes that I’ve dug myself. Or in this case, tripped over a piece of concrete that I painted in peaceful protest, which caused a halt to the construction of a shiny new strip mall where an abandoned library had stood. The marble floor catches my fall, sending shocks of pain up my arms and knees. “Are you okay?” Avery asks, peering from the heavy plastic tarp behind me. “Never better,” I say, dusting my hands off. “But watch your step.” She glances around the large space with those wide Bambi eyes. God, no wonder Gabriel Miller went after this woman. He would have wanted her even if she hadn’t auctioned off her virginity like fresh meat in the middle of the forest. “Are you sure it’s safe to be here?” It’s definitely not safe.
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