“Why?” Cavers’ voice sounded loud across the kitchen. His tone was gruff, and everyone looked his way. He didn’t back down. “Why does she need her rest? What’d you guys do today? Why weren’t Jake and I involved?”

Jake held up his hand again. “Don’t look at me. I’m not questioning you. I want to make that very clear.”

Cavers’ eyes turned hard. “You sent me on some run-around errands today. If you’re doing something, I want in.” He frowned. “Can’t prove my loyalty if I’m cut out.”

Cavers works for Bronski.

Raize shook his head. “You’re doing just fine. Those ‘run-around errands’ aren’t useless. Want me to cut you in? Do what I say, stop bitching about it, and prove your loyalty that way.” His words had a biting tone, and both Jake and I were quiet, waiting to see what Cavers would do.

He did nothing.

He went back to eating, but after Raize returned to his phone, Cavers sent him an angry look. He caught me watching him, and that anger transferred to me before he snuffed it out. “You still ain’t eating, Girl.”

“Her name is Carrie.” Jake sent me a grin.

“She’s asked to be called Ash,” Raize murmured, distracted and not looking away from his phone.

Cavers gave me the weirdest look, like he’d just realized I was a person, and Jake gave me an approving thumbs-up.

“I like it,” Jake said. “Mysterious. Somewhat linked to death. Very you. Carrie didn’t fit you, unless you were going to turn all rageful.”

I felt a laugh coming, and I tried to stop it. It came out as a snort-giggle, and I felt my face get hot. I just giggled.

I’d never been a giggler, ever in my life, yet I was giggling here, in this house, with a killer by me.

The earth was shifting under my feet. I was getting a new foundation—and I was thinking all these serious thoughts based on one embarrassing giggle?

I needed to get a life.

Wait. I couldn’t.

Never mind then.

“Eat,” Raize said. “Go rest after.”

“I was hoping for a card game tonight,” Jake said. “Anyone up to it? Raize, I heard you can play a mean game of poker.” Jake smiled. He wiggled his eyebrows at Cavers. “What do you say? War?”

Cavers stared at him, long and hard. “I used to play gin rummy with my grandma before she died.”

“Gin rummy it is! How about it, Ash? You spent all day with the boss. I bet you need a card game to unwind. I know I would—no offense, boss.” He held a finger in the air toward Raize.

“What?”

I almost giggled again. Raize wasn’t paying attention.

Jake looked relieved. “Ash?”

I considered it, but I didn’t want to be around Cavers. I didn’t want to think about Bronski, but I couldn’t avoid it, knowing we had a snitch in the house. I shook my head. “I’m going to shower and go to bed.”

“Looks like it’s you and me, Cave Man.”

“It’s Cavers.”

“That’s what I said.”

I was dressed, leaving the bathroom after showering for bed, when I stopped short. Raize stood at the end of the sleeping bag I’d rolled out in the corner by the window, studying my setup with a slight frown.

“What are you doing in here?”

The door was closed, but I could hear Jake and Cavers from the kitchen. Correction, I could hear Jake laughing and Cavers arguing.

“I wanted to check on you. Saw your face when we came in and Cavers was there.” He turned to face me, folding his arms over his chest. “Can you handle being around him, knowing who he’s reporting to?”

I bristled. “I can be professional.” I’d deal with it.

“You weren’t earlier.”

I flinched, but he was right. “Momentary lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”

He stared at me, his head cocked to the side. He stepped toward me, moving into the shadows. If he didn’t move, didn’t say a word, I could’ve convinced myself that he’d left the room.

When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost gentle. “I’m not pushing to know why you entered this life, but if it happens again, you will have to tell me. I won’t give you another choice. Do you understand?”

My throat swelled up, but damn. “I understand.”

“You’ll be able to sleep with him in the house?”

“Yes, because if he does something, I’ll kill him. I don’t care who he’s working for.” I raised my chin, almost defiant.

He didn’t respond.

He turned and went to the door. “I’m going to teach you to shoot tomorrow. You’ll need to know from now on.”

All the air left me.

He pulled the door shut on his way out, and I cursed. He was expecting me to fall asleep after that parting comment?

16

Ash

Raize woke me the next morning.

I rolled over and glared. I couldn’t stop myself.

He chuckled—chuckled! I was so surprised I forgot I’d been glaring.

He stood up. “Get up. I want to do this before they wake up.”

Right.

This.

He was going to teach me how to shoot.

I didn’t want to learn how to shoot a gun. It was my line. Everyone had lines. But as I considered yesterday, I was going to cross that line. I’d need to learn or die.

I couldn’t die yet.

I had my sister to find or avenge. At this point, it was an either/or sort of situation. That was the ultimate goal for me. Trudging to the bathroom, I made quick work of getting washed up and dressed. Today was my second pair of jeans, a new tank top, and the same sweatshirt from yesterday, mostly because it was my only sweatshirt.

I pulled my hair up, wrapping it up in a slightly loose/slightly messy bun. A few tendrils would fall through, framing my face. They always did.

I paused and looked at myself, really looked at myself.

I’d always been pale growing up. Brooke was the one in the sun, running around, mostly flirting with guys.

Me. I was the inside girl, the study girl. Brooke was lively and extroverted. I was just quiet, but we had the same face. Oval shape, flush cheeks, big lips. Dark eyes. Both Brooke and I had the same eye color. But I liked makeup.

I used to go a dark shade over my eyes. Frosted lips.

I did the slight pink hue on my cheeks.

Brooke didn’t like makeup. She was almost a tomboy kinda girl, but she was the partier of us.

I didn’t recognize that girl anymore. My skin was darkly tanned. No makeup. Lips were chapped.

My cheeks were gaunt, not flush or rounded.

With the weight loss, my chin stood out more. The oval face shape was almost a triangle one.

I had no clue if I looked better before or now, then I shook myself of that question. How could I look better? But I had dark hair before. Now it was blonde.

“You gotta change your hair color.”

They decided to change my hair color, not me. They wanted me to have platinum blonde, but now with my roots, it was a beachy blonde look. I knew the back was super light, almost white on some strands. My eyes were the only thing I recognized anymore. They were the only thing I still had.