CHAPTER1
Ava Richardson
It was supposed to be a normal day.
Get up. Drink some coffee. Go to work and walk home. Then I’d planned to end the day by pouring myself a generous glass of cabernet, cracking open a book, and reading until I fell asleep, safe and snug in my own bed.
That’s how I’d pictured it and that’s how it went—up until the walk home from work.
When I emerged from the bar after a long shift of catcalling and pretending to be interested in all the sleazy drunk guys that hit on me in hopes I’d make them a stronger drink, I was dead tired. I don’t know what it was about Thursday nights, but it sure as hell brought out the worst in people. I’d take a Friday or Saturday over a Thursday any day.
Someone whistled at me from across the street and I ignored them, not even looking in their direction or giving them the time of day as I turned down the block. My apartment was only about a fifteen-minute walk from work, but tonight it felt like forever. I looked down the street. One of the headlights above me started to flicker and once again I asked myself if it was worth it. I hustled a bit faster.
I didn’t really need the money. If I ever needed anything at all, all I had to do was swallow my pride and ask my godfather for help.
I didn’t want to do that. He’d already given me so much.
My uncle David was my only family now. He wasn’t technically blood related, but that didn’t matter. Not really. He was the one who had looked after me after my parents died back when I was fifteen. It had been a shock. No one ever expects to get a call at three in the afternoon with the news that your parents were killed in a car crash with some drunk driver.
He’d taken care of me ever since. He’d paid for me to go to a ritzy boarding school in Connecticut. He’d insisted on paying for my apartment, which I needed to be honest because rent prices in New York were absolutely ridiculous. Without him, there was no way I could afford to live anywhere near the university and for that I was grateful.
I didn’t like accepting his handouts for everything though. I got a job as soon as I turned eighteen so that I could pay for some things myself. Balancing the hours on top of my college classes was hard, but I did it anyway because that’s what I wanted. It felt so much better to earn it rather than be given it.
Sometimes I wondered if that was a redeeming quality or if it just made me stupid.
Another dude catcalled me from around the corner. I scrunched my nose in disgust but kept going. The rank scent of body odor assaulted my nose and I picked up the pace of my stride. The city was beautiful from a distance at night, but it sure as hell was an eyesore up close.
The street was littered with trash. A bunch of shops were closed. Giant metal gates blocked their entrances. Thick bars covered any visible windows, protecting the merchandise inside from whatever criminals were walking the streets after bar closing hours.
I sighed, looking up into the night sky. The stars were a little brighter tonight than usual. I could see a tiny little sliver of the moon, which didn’t cast much light down on the pavement beneath. The darkness all around me seemed especially consuming.
I moved my feet a bit faster. Only two more blocks now and then I could crack open the cabernet I’d gotten and read until I passed out. My first class wasn’t until noon tomorrow, so I was going to sleep in as late as I could.
I sighed again, imagining the beautiful deep color of those delectable grapes in my glass.
A police siren echoed somewhere in the distance. Someone’s brakes squealed and the rancid smell of burned rubber wafted from behind me. I jumped and glanced over my shoulder, cursing softly at letting such a common thing startle me.
I was on edge tonight. I really needed to get it together.
“What’s up, hot stuff? Where are you heading this late at night?” a man called out from behind me a little way. His voice was gruff and dangerous, and I did my best to ignore it. Usually, they left you alone if you didn’t respond.
I had just one more block to go. I contemplated sprinting to the front door of my building, but that would just make me an even bigger target.
“Those are some nice tight leggings. Show off your legs and that pretty ass of yours,” the man continued.
Fuck. Right. Off.
I knew better than to respond. I reached into my bag and pulled out my phone. I pretended to dial a number and held it up to my ear while my other hand sought out the small pepper spray attached to my keyring. The metal dug into my palm, but I didn’t dare loosen my grip.
The purr of an engine rumbled, revving slightly a few blocks back. I strode a bit faster, but its gentle throttle started to grow louder. I turned my head just enough to see a big black SUV rolling along the street. Alarm bells rang in my head when I realized that it was driving way more slowly than it should have been. This wasn’t someone heading home from a night at a bar. They were looking for someone.
I lifted my gaze. My building wasn’t that much farther. I lowered my head, shrugging my jacket up on my shoulders. It was big on me, but I liked it. The soft fabric liner was luxurious against my skin. I reached back and lifted the hood, hiding the long thick waves of my hair beneath it.
Should have done that earlier.
The engine’s rumble grew louder and revved again. It was much closer now. It roared suddenly and my heart leapt into my throat. In a panic, I sprinted down the block as quickly as I could.
Which was stupid, really. Human legs weren’t even remotely equipped to outrun a goddamn car.