Better When He's Brave

I breathed out a heavy sigh and shifted my stance so that my hair slithered over my shoulder. It wasn’t exactly a hair toss but it was close. “Think whatever you want, Race. Conner needs to be stopped, and whether you, Bax, or Titus like it, the road leading to him goes right through me.”


He gave a bitter-sounding laugh and lifted his hand to rub his thumb along his jawline. He looked like a big golden lion getting ready to pounce on its prey. Too bad for him I had never been on anyone’s menu. I was the hunter not the hunted.

“You must be unbelievable in bed, Reeve. You have a good man willing to do bad things for you and a bad man hell-bent on showing you just how evil he can be.”

I scoffed at him and lifted one of my own eyebrows in response to his taunt. “How sad for you that you’ll never know, Hartman.”

I didn’t wait for a response; instead I slammed the door in his face and secured the chain. I heard his chuckle through the door as I stomped over to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. It made me so mad at myself that my hands were shaking. I had to get my emotions in check. No one was on my side. No one trusted me or my motivations for being here, and I had to get used to that fact. I was not part of the team and I had to stop letting the constant reminders of that get to me. If I let my feelings show, I would give away what I was really planning before it was showtime, and that couldn’t happen.

The truth of the matter was I did know that the only way to stop Conner was to put him down like a rabid dog in the street. And I also knew that wasn’t how Titus operated; in fact I was counting on his strong moral compass to keep him from crossing those kinds of lines. No, what he needed to do was keep me alive long enough, keep me safe enough that I could get close enough to Conner and take care of him myself. As far as I could tell, that was the only way to restore the karmic balance that I had set off kilter when I went looking for Novak all those years ago. When I had wanted revenge, wanted my sister’s boyfriend to pay for all the ways he had destroyed her life, I should have been brave enough, strong enough, to take care of him myself and then been properly punished. Having someone else do my dirty work was the ultimate cop-out. I wouldn’t ever be that weak or owe anyone that kind of favor again.

Now, when judgment day rolled around, it would be Conner and me face-to-face, and he would know exactly why I was the one pulling the trigger. It was my turn to stop the madness so that men like Titus had a shot, so that Race could take the vices and addictions that were rampant here and put some kind of cage around them, so that Nassir could feed the beast without it having to cannibalize itself, so that guys like Bax actually got a break for once. I understood redemption better than anyone gave me credit for and Titus wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty at all. I already had blood on mine, so what was a little bit more?

Conner had tricked me. He made me think he was one of the good guys. That he was one of the fighters for justice and fairness. Sure, I wanted to believe it so badly that I had ignored everything that was screaming at me, that was trying to tell me he wasn’t what he seemed. He had pulled the wool over my eyes. The only time I felt secure, had felt like any other normal young woman in her early twenties without an ugly past and a questionable set of ethics, was with Connor and he had faked it all. None of that had been real.

I jumped when the cell phone Titus had dropped off beeped with a text message. I snatched it up and called myself a few choice names when my pulse kicked at just the sight of his name in the message.

I’ll be up to get you in 10.

Typical Titus. No mincing words with that guy.

I sighed and cast a rueful look down at the borrowed clothing I was wearing. I had no idea who Titus’s neighbor was, but she was much shorter than me and had a thing for bright colors and patterns, where I typically favored a more neutral palette. I cringed inwardly when I thought about how ridiculous the hot-pink short-shorts and stretchy lime-green tank top had to look. I also hadn’t seen an ounce of makeup aside from my purse stash since I got back to the Point, and so far the most flattering thing I had come up with for my hair was a ponytail.

I was used to looking good. I was used to being able to use the way I looked to disarm others and to deflect questions I didn’t want to answer. I hadn’t had that advantage with Titus since he showed up at the motel. He was seeing me at my worst and I didn’t like that because he already had such a poor opinion of me. I wanted some kind of upper hand but that wasn’t happening, so I resigned myself to suffering his silent brooding and judgment while he moved me from point A to point B. I needed to brace for it if we were going to be spending time together, which we would be if things went according to Titus’s plan.

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