Hunt

My screen showed me walking in the tracker’s direction.

I checked the spot.

This is where your apartment is?

I headed around the back of the first building, catching music playing in the background. In fact, I knew the song.

I stopped at the corner of the building.

Wait. Is that Lacrimosa? This is a trap.

Then, the music shut off.

I inched forward and got closer to the apartment the music was flowing from.

The kid’s voice sounded. “It looks like a new CD. The plastic and case is next to it like you just opened it a few days ago—”

“It’s not mine,” Phoenix interrupted.

Not a trap.

A huge smile spread across my face.

You’re listening to opera now, Phoenix? Thinking of me?

The conversation continued.

I followed their voices and remained in the shadows.

Good. Her apartment is on the first level. No need to climb tonight.

I peeked into the small side window, barely able to see inside. I made out Phoenix and Quin in front of each other, having a heated discussion. I was trying to pay attention as well as register everything in the space.

The kid prepared something in the kitchen.

Then a massive dog appeared in my view and trotted away from them. The creature looked to be going into another room.

Fuck. Is that a rottweiler?

Annoyed, I moved my head.

Phoenix. Phoenix.

I lowered deeper into the shadows and typed a message to West.

Me: Change of plans. We need some meat. She has a dog in there.

West: How big?

Me: Rottweiler.

West: Damn. Give us a minute to hit the gas station close by.

Me: Hurry. I don’t want to shoot the dog.

I sat down under the window and waited, listening to the oddness of Quin and Phoenix’s conversation. I captured the love that both women shared for each other and even the kid.

But what worried me the most was the way Phoenix felt about our moment in the soul coffin.

She was more scared than I thought. More shaken from what had happened than I assumed.

We’ll have to fix that, Phoenix.

Chapter 7

Maddening Terror & Dark Scars

PHOENIX

A

t least he won’t find me for now.

That was the only thought that kept me calm after I vomited.

I’m safe from his knives and. . .his soul coffin.

I brushed my teeth, and went back into the living room with Quin and Devin.

They both watched me with concerned expressions. They even tried to get me to talk about it.

I refused. There was nothing that they could do to help me. Nothing that would shut away the fear that Cain had incited.

I’m safe for now. I’m hidden. Tomorrow is another day.

The rest of the night we discussed the possible new places I could work at. There was no way I could return to Destiny’s. Cain would be there waiting for me. Quin brought up other joints I could dance at, even the ones in Paradise owned by the Syndicate.

I was scared to try another strip club. Cain was no idiot. He would check the other strip clubs.

I shouldn’t dance anymore.

Then there was the fact that I needed to make good money. While I hated taking my clothes off for losers to throw bills at me, I could bring in $1,500.00 on a good night. It just mattered on how hard I worked and how much I could ignore my aching feet.

I need money to make the necessary changes in my life. How will I get it?

The only positive aspect was that I’d been saving most of the money that I made this week. A good portion of it would go to my community college courses in the next semester. The other part had to pay for the apartment and groceries.

Now, I’ll have to use those savings to figure out the next way I’ll make money.

Quin and I never came up with a plan. It was probably due to all the rum. Once Devin finished cooking, they loaded up all the plastic containers they could find and stuffed the food in Quin’s book bag. Devin grabbed the chef’s knife. Quin told me she’d come by in a few days to help me with the new job hunt.

They left soon after.

And the apartment grew silent.

I considered playing the opera CD on the old radio, but thought against it.

Boss went into my room, humped Queen for a few minutes, returned to the living room, and then went to his guarding post by the back door.

Good boy. If Cain comes, Boss will bite his ass off.

I was thankful that she’d loaned Boss to me.

Everything will be okay. Cain won’t get me.

I thought back to the first week after escaping Cain and the first night in the apartment. It had been before I had Boss.

After taping my brother’s news clippings to the wall and chatting with his image for a few minutes, I went to bed.

But no slumber came, I had laid awake for hours, too scared to sleep and staring at the ceiling, constantly on alert. I kept my gun next to me along with anything else that could be used—mace, knives, scissors.