Page 5 of Renegade Rift

I make a mental note to pick up more on my way home tonight as I turn back to Smitty, who is suddenly more interested in every aspect of my apartment than meeting my gaze.

Bingo.

He came on strong at the door, but it’s clear he’s the weakest link. The one who’s going to clue me in on what the hell is going on here. Because I know it’s more than a simple cleaning. No grown man smiles as much as the three of them over vacuuming and soap bubbles.

I zero in on the rookie, first-naming him for dramatic effect. “Noah.”

His eyes widen, and he chews his lip as if that will stop him from allowing any of their secret details to slip.

I pad around the kitchen island and sling my arm over his shoulder. “You going to tell me what’s really going on here?”

“I—uh—” His eyes dart from me to Carson, who is giving him a pointed stare clearly meant to remind him his silence is precious. “Uh—we just thought you might like?—”

He’s about to break when Espinoza chimes in from the sofa, “Ay, are these ones new,Penguino?”

I glance over my shoulder at Espinoza, who is bent over the coffee table, examining the crystals in the cubby below the glass.

Damn it. Not this again.

Especially when I was so close to figuring out what the hell is going on.

I grunt an affirming “Yes,” and silently pray he’ll drop the subject as I turn back to Smitty, but Espinoza presses on.

“This girl must be worth it if you’re collecting all these pretty rocks for her.”

“They aren’t—” I’m not caffeinated enough to have this argument with him.

Again.

I’m not a fucking penguin. And the crystals aren’t for a girl.

Not really.

They’re a placeholder.

A promise.

I don’t even know if she collects the damn things anymore.

I scrub my hand down my face, eyes shut tight to assuage my guilt.

Fuck.

Every part of me regrets telling my teammates about those damn crystals. A standing reminder never to mix tequila and karaoke in the Vegas heat.

Carson slides up next to me and bumps my shoulder. “Any luck finding her?”

My shoulders deflate as I swivel my head toward him and sigh. “No. Willow’s attempt to trace her was a dead end, and the latest private investigator I hired came up empty too.” As did the three before him. “It’s like she became a ghost.”

Or died.

My guts twist, and I have to actively stop myself from going down that road.

There’s no way she’s dead. The universe isn’t that cruel.

Then again, maybe it is considering the whole reason I’m in New York is because Ivolunteered to be drafted to the Renegades after the universe decided it was okay with taking the lives of the previous team.

I still remember where I was when I heard about the crash. Sitting in the Chicago clubhouse, I didn’t want to believe it. I refreshed the news app over and over until finally one of my teammates took the phone out of my hands. In the blink of an eye, sixty-eight souls were gone. Children lost their fathers. Wives lost their husbands. And I lost my stepbrother.

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