Page 102 of Never Die for a Sinner
Her fingers twist in the hem of her shirt, knuckles whitening. “The last message they sent . . . it wasn’t just about the flash drive. They said if I didn’t get it, they’d take something from me.”
My chest tightens. “Something?”
Her throat works as she swallows. “They said—someone.” She finally looks up at me, and the weight of her stare lands like a fist to the ribs.
The room is so still that I can hear her breathing—shallow and controlled.
“They won’t get to you,” I say, my voice low and dangerous.
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “I’m not worried about me, Levi. I think they meant you.”
The words land cold and sharp at the base of my spine.
I lean back, jaw grinding. “Then they’ve just made their first mistake.”
Because anyone stupid enough to put themselves in my crosshairs won’t walk out of them.
Ava studies me like she’s trying to decide whether I’m about to run headfirst into a trap or burn the whole city down. She’s not wrong on either count.
The air hums between us, charged with something volatile.
“You think they’re bluffing?” I ask.
“I think…” she says slowly, “…whoever this is, they want us chasing the wrong thing. They want to keep you distracted while they get whatever’s on that flash drive.”
I stand and start pacing, the movement keeping the tension from boiling over. “Then we stop playing defense.”
Her brow furrows. “Meaning?”
“Meaning I’m done waiting for them to make the next move. If they know about the Tomb and me as Black, then they’ve been close. Too close.” My tone hardens. “So we draw them out. Make them think we’re giving them exactly what they want.”
Ava blinks, torn between thinking I’ve lost my mind and wondering if it might actually work. “And if they take the bait?”
A slow, humorless smirk tugs at my mouth. “Then they meet the real Black.”
Her breath hitches almost imperceptibly, but she hides it well. “So . . . what now?”
“Get dressed.”
“Why?”
I chuckle under my breath as I head towards the door.
“We’ve got work to do.”
AVA
If you had told me a month ago that I’d be walking into a secret, underground street fighting ring hand-in-hand with Levi Cross, I would have laughed in your face.
Now . . . it’s just another peek into the man I sold my life to.
The Tomb is an underground street fighting club. It makes sense. Now, I understand why Levi always comes home with bruises and cuts.
The moment we walk through the door, my hand in his, the scent of blood, sweat, and booze hits me like a punch to the face.
People are everywhere, and the place is as loud as a nightclub with just as many drugs. There’s a cage in the center of the room where almost everyone is gathered, watching two men completely annihilate one another like this is a WWE wrestling match.
My steps must falter, because Levi looks back at me over his shoulder, and his hand tightens around mine.
