Page 76 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

Which is why seeing him again, being in his house… it feels wrong. It feels like I’ve opened up a wound that never had a chance to heal.

When I get back to the room, Charity is stirring and rubbing her eyes. I move to the bed and check on Theo. He’s sleeping soundly, his lips puckering softly as though he’s trying to find the bottle teat.

Smiling at the sight, I slip into bed next to him, even though sleep is the last thing on my mind.

“Where’ve you been?” Charity asks.

“Nowhere.”

She frowns, stifling a yawn. “You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?”

Sighing, I stare at the ceiling. “There was a man I saw earlier. Outside one of the windows of the house…”

“Yeah?”

“He looked… panicked. Terrified, really. Or maybe he was sad. I couldn’t tell.”

“You sure he was real?” I give her some side eye and she smirks. “Sorry. Continue with your story. Who was he?”

“That’s the thing—I don’t know,” I say. “He… he warned me, I guess you’d call it.”

“Warned you about?”

“Phoenix, I assume. This house,” I say. “He told me to run. That it isn’t safe here.”

“Sounds like a nutcase. City is full of ‘em.”

“He looked like a man who was about to jump off a ledge.”

“Proving my point...”

“Sometimes, life is so hard that ending it all feels like the only option,” I murmur, in defense of all the broken souls out there who choose to jump rather than live.

I can’t blame them. In a way, I did the same thing.

“No. Fuck that. I’ve had a hard life,” Charity says defiantly, eyes blazing. “In fact, I just stared death in the face. And I’m still here. Still determined to keep going. I won’t give this awful world the satisfaction of taking me out.”

“That’s because you’re different, Charity. You’re strong. Not all of us are.”

Charity raises her eyebrows. “I thought we were talking about the crazy man in the window.”

“We don’t know he’s crazy,” I point out. “And we are talking about him.”

“Sure we’re not talking about you?”

I grit my teeth but keep my voice low and even-tempered. “What if his warning was real?” I ask. “Phoenix is Bratva. We already know he’s dangerous.”

“I’m not disputing that,” Charity says. “The man’s dangerous, yeah, no doubt about it. One hundred percent.”

“Then why—”

“Because he’s not dangerous toyou. Or to Theo,” Charity clarifies. “Which is what we should capitalize on.”

I stare at her in disbelief. “Charity, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying we should stay here as long as we can.”

I blanch. “You want to just live off him?”

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