Page 138 of Riot

My stomach twisted.

She’d said crazy things lately. About people trying to poison her, about ghosts coming back to finish what they started. Hell, she even muttered “Jones” once. I thought she meant the old accountant that ran off with our books in ‘08. But maybe…

Fuck.

I needed to talk to her. Needed to ask her before the cancer and the metal in her blood took the rest of her mind. Before I lost another piece of this already broken puzzle.

But first I needed to respond to Rollo.

My phone buzzed, dragging me back to the present.

Rollo:Pull up. We at the spot. Irina here too.

I stared at the message for a long second, then dropped the blunt into the tray and hopped in the shower.

The penthouse Rollo was posted in was one of his low-key spots in Midtown—bare bones, nothing traceable. I stepped off the elevator and heard voices before I even knocked.

Creed opened the door, his expression unreadable as always. “She’s in there.”

I walked past him without speaking and found Rollo on the couch, rolling a blunt like it was therapy, and Irina sitting across from him, legs crossed, a silk scarf tied around her head to cover the bandages. But I could still see the edges. Still see what her father had done to her.

“Damn,” I muttered, eyes flicking to the side of her head.

Irina looked up, and to her credit, didn’t flinch. “Still healing.”

She stood, smoothing her dress down. “I’m sorry, by the way. For how I came at Allure the last time we saw each other. I was… spiraling. Afraid. She triggered something in me, and I took it out on her.”

I gave a short nod. “She’ll be aight.”

Irina looked at me for a long moment, something softer creeping into her voice. “I know my father’s a monster. I didn’t always want to believe it, but after what he did to me… and the things I’ve seen…” Her voice trailed off before she forced herself to meet my eyes again. “I want to help you stop him. Whatever you need.”

I studied her carefully. She looked fragile on the outside, but there was steel underneath. Still, I couldn’t afford trust, not like that. Not now.

“You can get us to him?” I asked.

She nodded. “He’s not at the compound anymore. After the girls were found, he moved everything. He and Avi are staying in a an old house in Queens. Security is light. He thinks nobody knows where he is.”

“You sure?”

“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “He’s weaker now. Sick. Paranoid. He barely leaves the bedroom. I know the entry codes. I can get you in.”

I stepped closer, eyes locking on hers. “That’s good. Because if you’re lying, or if you try to fuck me over, I’ll feed you to a hyena.”

She blinked. Then let out a soft, startled laugh like she thought I was joking.

But I wasn’t.

And when she saw I wasn’t laughing, the air shifted.

“Damn, Riot,” Rollo snapped, standing up. “She’s trying to help. You ain’t gotta threaten her.”

I turned my gaze to him. “You vouching for her?”

“I brought her here, didn’t I?”

“Answer the question.”

He puffed his chest. “Yeah. I vouch for her.”

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