Chapter 2 Don

Evelyn's POV

I fled from that nightmare of a bar.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I'd just slapped the current Don, my ex.

Were his men going to throw me into an acid pit?

I had dumped him, after all. Just like that.

"Evelyn, we've still got a tab to settle."

His words kept exploding in my head like thunder.

A tab… what tab… had I really just dumped him?

But all of that was in the past.

Tonight's run-in, that slap, it was just because he'd hurt me. That was all.

I tried to calm down and pulled out my phone to call a cab.

A fine, steady rain had started falling. I hadn't brought an umbrella. All I could do was pull my coat tighter around me.

A couple walked past, huddled together under their umbrella. For a second, I saw Brode and me in their place.

It had been a rainy night like this one, once. Brode had tilted the umbrella over my side, letting his own shoulder get soaked through.

"Well, well."

A voice cut into my thoughts.

Three men stepped out of the rain.

The stench of cheap tobacco and alcohol carried to me even through the downpour.

I froze.

The one in front had a buzz cut and a scar running down his face. Rainwater streamed along it as he grinned at me.

"Isn't this the old district? What's a pretty little thing like you doing here?"

"New girl working the streets?"

The other two laughed, whistling crudely.

I took a step back. My shoulders hit the cold brick wall behind me.

"You've got the wrong idea. I'm just passing through. Waiting for a ride."

"Passing through?" Buzz Cut stepped closer, looking me up and down. "This late? In the rain? There's nothing decent around here to pass through."

His eyes dragged over my body.

He smacked his lips. "A body like this, a face like this… you don't see that in the old district."

The blond one with a brow piercing leaned in, his voice suddenly cautious. "You think maybe she's one of Ramsden's?"

My stomach dropped.

Ramsden.

They were talking about him. Brode Ramsden.

Buzz Cut spat on the ground. "So what? I need his permission to play with a woman now?"

"I'm really just passing through," I said, forcing myself to stay calm. Before I could finish, Buzz Cut took another step forward and put his hand on my shoulder.

"Relax. We're just talking. It's really coming down. Let's find somewhere to wait it out—"

"Don't touch me."

I knocked his hand away. I just wanted out of there.

He paused for a second, then his grin stretched wider.

"Feisty. I like that."

"Come on, sweetheart. I'll make tonight one to remember."

His hand came at me again.

And then, headlights at the end of the street.

Not one car. A lot of them.

Sleek black sedans rolled into the alley one after another, headlights slicing through the rain, lighting up the whole street like daytime.

Buzz Cut's hand froze in midair. Even the two thugs behind him flinched.

The last car came to a stop.

A door opened. An umbrella went up, held with careful reverence.

Brode stepped out.

Buzz Cut's hand started to shake.

"Fuck…" His voice trembled. "The Ramsdens are here."

Brode stood under the umbrella, watching me through the rain.

I knew I must've looked like hell right now.

Thank God, he only glanced at me once before his eyes slid to the three thugs.

Buzz Cut had already dropped to his knees, slamming them hard against the concrete. His two friends followed, heads down, shaking.

"Don…" All the swagger was gone from his voice. He sounded close to crying. "Don, we didn't know, we really didn't know, we were just messing around, we said some things we shouldn't have."

Brode took two slow steps forward.

Rainwater pooled around his feet.

"Messing around?"

That low, resonant voice filled the alley.

"Tell me. What exactly did you say?"

The rain suddenly seemed louder.

Buzz Cut's face went white. His lips trembled violently, but no words came out.

Not that it mattered. Anyone could see what my situation had been a moment ago.

Brode tilted his head slightly, glancing at the man in black beside him.

Just a look. That was all it took. The man drew a heavy black pistol from his waist.

The muzzle pointed at Buzz Cut.

"No—!"

The shot cracked before he could finish.

My whole body jerked. I watched blood run through his fingers.

He wasn't dead. The bullet had just grazed his cheek, leaving a deep gash from his cheekbone down to his jaw.

"The next shot," Brode said, his voice still cold and calm, "goes in your skull."

Buzz Cut was flat on the ground now, face smeared with blood and rain and dirt, sobbing for his life. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, have mercy—"

The other two were shaking even harder, barely breathing.

Brode didn't look at him again.

He just started walking toward me.

Maybe it was the cold, maybe it was something else, but a chill went through me, deep and total.

An unbearable silence stretched between us. I kept my head down, refusing to meet his eyes.

I was searching for an excuse to leave when he spoke first.

"Get in."

Everything in me rebelled.

"No, thanks. I already called a cab."

Perfect timing, the cab I'd booked pulled up across the street. I waved at the driver.

He saw me. Definitely saw me. He met Brode's eyes, then the eyes of the men behind him, and instantly ducked back into his car.

"Hey! I'm right here."

I waved again.

The driver acted like he hadn't seen a thing. He slammed on the gas.

"Wait! I haven't gotten in yet!"

I tried to run after the car, but Brode caught my wrist.

I whipped my head around in panic. His face was dark, and there was no room in it for argument.

The cold coming off him went bone-deep. The hair on my arms stood up.

"Get in."

I had no choice but to look up at him. I swallowed hard and dropped my head.

The moment he saw I'd given in, that big hand let go of my wrist. He turned and walked toward the understated, armored SUV.

I tried to slip away while he wasn't looking, but his bodyguards closed in on either side of me. There was nowhere to go.