Page 141 of Ruin My Life
“She slipped in just before closing,” Lee mutters, switching the feed to show the inside of the office. “Didn’t bother avoiding the cameras. Just Connor.”
“She didn’t need to avoid cameras,” I grind out, my jaw tightening. “She doesn’t care if we see her now—she has what she needs. She’ll use that software, the one she used to track Lola. Odds are, she’s already on her way to Xander.”
That familiar dread coils low in my gut.
The kind that knows she’s walking into danger alone—and what will happen after.
“Why didn’t you check the feeds, Connor?” Monroe asks.
“Youknowhow it is at closing,” Connor snaps back. “I was clearing stragglers, locking up. I can’t babysit the damn cameras every second.”
“It’s not your fault,” I cut in. “It’s mine.”
They all turn toward me.
Chavez and Monroe share a look. It’s brief, but I catch it.
Connor grips my shoulder hard enough to jar me. “Blaming each other isn’t going to fix this. If she puts a bullet in O’Doyle’s kid, we’re screwed six ways from Sunday. So what’s the plan?”
I shove the hurt down deep where I always keep it, behind the thick walls built from years of mistakes I can’t afford to make again. I wear the only face they need from me right now—the King.
“Lee found Xander’s mechanic shop. It’s in Queens, just off the Belt. We think the photos were taken there. That’s where we go.”
“She’s got a four-hour lead on us,” Chavez points out. “She could already be there.”
“Not necessarily,” Lee says. “R.O.S.E. uses live CCTV feeds. She said she needed a picture of his face so she could run it through her program. Unlike with Lola, she doesn’t have a general location she can use to scan through hours of footage. I’m almost certain it’ll rely on a real-time hit to get a location, which means he has to be outside and in view of one of the street cams.”
Monroe checks his watch, already calculating. “It’s a weekend. Most garages in the area aren’t open. Odds are, he’s still home or just waking up. We should run his residential address.”
“Nothing comes up under O’Malley,” Lee mutters. “If he’s renting somewhere else, he’s using a different name.”
“We assume he lives at the shop,” I say firmly. “If James was telling the truth, Matthias isn’t funding him anymore. Without that Songbird income, he won’t have an easy time renting a place near the Belt, let alone two different places.”
It’s just a hunch.
But it’s our best chance at stopping this war before it starts.
Monroe heads to the underground garage to bring the SUV around. The rest of us gather gear—guns, ammo, Kevlar—preparing for the worst-case scenario.
Because that’s what this feels like. Like something’s shifting, bleeding into dangerous territory we won’t walk away from clean.
I tell Lee to stay in the office upstairs, not The Speakeasy. If Brie gets to Xander first, the Songbirds will come down on us hard, and I won’t risk anyone else.
I’m hoping she doesn’t go through with it.
I’m hoping she sees his face, remembers what I told her about giving me more time, and comes back.
I’m hoping like a fucking idiot.
Because even if she did… what then?
Would I forgive her? Could I?
She used me. Lied to me. Took the keys while I was asleep—while I was still high off her body—and walked out without a word.
She was the one asking for trust, just to tear me to shreds the moment I let her in. And now I don’t know what the fuck to do with the pieces she left behind.
But I can’t pretend I wouldn’t do the same if I were her.
