Page 127 of Fatality

I drop the pan, and it clatters onto the floor.

“God damn it!”

I glare at the burning pan like I could personally murder it.

And honestly, I'm tempted.

Grabbing the cushion again, I practically launched myself at the thing.

Please do not attempt to extinguish the fire alone. The Fire Enforcers are en route. Please proceed calmly to the nearest exit—

“Shut up!” I snap at the apartment AI. “I know!”

Every apartment in Kairo-9 comes with one.

Fire detection, carbon monitoring, emergency response—the whole package.

The flames finally die beneath the cushion.

I point accusingly at the blackened pan.

“Cancel the Fire Enforcers.” I order. “The fire is out.”

The AI voice came through one last time. Fire Enforcers cancelled.

I sigh and examine my hand.

It's probably a minor second-degree burn.

The skin is already reddening, and it'll likely blister later.

I brush my fingers against it and immediately wince.

Of fucking course, I had to burn myself.

I survived an illegal race, and whatever the hell Evren Calder's problem is, only to get taken out by a frying pan.

Muttering under my breath, I head to the freezer and start rummaging through it, looking for burn medication.

Nothing.

Great.

I grab a bag of ice and press it against my palm.

A sharp cry tears out of me as pain shoots through my hand.

I'm so fucking stupid.

Within a month, my life has become a complete disaster.

One bad decision.

One stupid, impulsive decision.

And now here I am, plotting against a gang leader after getting stuck through a window and made me come on his face because, once again, my body had priorities that my mind wanted nothing to do with.

I slide down against the kitchen counter until I'm sitting on the floor, my knees pulled to my chest, my face buried between them.