I turn the corner without thinking. There are fewer people. Less light. I register it somewhere in the background, but it doesn’t pull me out of my thoughts.
One client surfaced more than once. That’s when I started pulling harder, which led me to the marina.
And to Halstead.
I slow slightly.
If something was already happening, then Halstead didn’t start it.
I take another step.
Then another.
The city is quieter here, but I’m not tracking it consciously. My focus has narrowed, sharpened.
If he didn’t start it, then he didn’t belong there.
And if he didn’t belong there…
Then someone else did.
And the Vexleys know who.
My chest tightens like I’ve stepped too close to something I shouldn’t be able to see.
Not just a mistake.
Not just bad timing.
Something placed.
Something—
A scream rips from my throat as something catches my wrist.
For a second, my brain doesn’t register what’s happening—just the force, the sudden loss of balance as I’m yanked sideways, my heel catching on uneven pavement.
Then—
Brick slams into my back.
The impact knocks the breath out of me in a gasp. Pain flares in my shoulder and neck, but it’s already secondary.
Because—
Hands.
One still locked around my wrist. The other coming up?—
I twist, instinct snapping in before thought, and drive my free hand forward.
He catches it effortlessly.
My wrist is pinned beside the other, both of them held in one grip, lifted just enough to throw off my balance.
Air. I need air.
My chest tightens, breath shallow, fast—too fast—and for one disorienting second, nothing makes sense.