Chapter Four

Jace’ POV

The silence in the H-block office of New Coast lingered long after Mr. Mann left. Another deal closed and another set of threats neutralized.

I didn’t say much, not that I ever did in those meetings. Just stood back and watched, memorizing every name and face that crossed his screen. Half of them would end up dead, the other half desperate.

By the time I got to the apartment, the sun was already gone, replaced by the evening calm. I unfastened my jacket, grabbed the black-and-gold bag from the passenger seat, and climbed the stairs to her room.

The gift had cost more than she’d care to know. But it was her father’s ideaa, one of his rare sentimental gestures. Custom perfume, rare vintage books, and a card he made me sign in his name.

“Let her feel seen,” he’d said. As if that was enough to make up for everything else.

I stopped in front of her apartment door and knocked. Once. No answer.

Twice. Still nothing.

“Kamara?” I called.

Nothing.

A cold flicker ran down my spine. I twisted the doorknob. It was locked. I pulled out a spare key I had just for cases like this.

The door swung open and the room was completely empty. The bed was made, the window closed.

Shit.

I took out my phone, dialing her number.

Straight to voicemail.

“Don’t do this to me,” I muttered, already navigating to the tracker I’d embedded into the lining of her phone case. I wasn’t proud of it, but it was the only reason I could breathe at night.

The signal pinged.

“Campus Hub. Block A.”

She was at a freaking college mixer party? On the second day even.

I rushed for the car, throwing the gift into the passenger seat as the engine growled to life.

If anything happens to her… I’m as good as fucked.

Twenty minutes later, after speeding like a psychopath , I arrived at the house.

Students scattered around like flies. I could already tell this idea had to be influenced by Valerie. And I wasn’t a fan.

The entire block pulsed with noise, lights flashing from inside the building.

I parked two streets over and slipped into the crowd. Drunk students stumbled into each other, perfume and sweat clinging to their bodies. Some girl in a glitter top tried to touch my chest. I shoved past her.

I searched the faces, moved room to room, kitchen, hallway, upstairs, even the backyard. Nothing. No flash of the neatly tight bun she always toed her hair in.

I cursed under my breath and retraced my steps.

That’s when I saw three guys, bunched near the side fence, whispering oddly. One nudged the other, and they darted toward a side exit.

Something about the way they moved told me everything I needed and I followed without hesitation, keeping to the shadows until I caught sight of them again—this time by a beat-up sedan parked just off the lot.

The back door opened.

A girl struggled.

I couldn’t see her face, but I didn’t need to.

Dangling from her wrist, half-buried in the dark, was a pink braided bracelet with a faded crystal charm. Undoubtedly Kamaras’

Her mother gave it to her when she was six. I remembered because she never took it off.

And that’s when something in me snapped.

“Get your fucking hands off her,” I growled.

One of them turned. “Yo, what the—”

I slammed the first guy into the car before he could finish.

The second tried to run.

I dragged him back by the collar, my elbow meeting his jaw with a crack that would sing in his skull for days. The third one didn’t even try to be brave. He froze, hands up, eyes wide.

Kamara stumbled out of the car, clutching the bracelet like it was the only thing anchoring her.

Her makeup was smudged. Eyes wide. Breath shallow.

But she was okay. She was safe.

“I told you to stay in your room,” I muttered, not even realizing how hard I was shaking until I gripped the top of the car to steady myself.

“Jace…” Her voice broke. “I—”

“Later.” My jaw clenched. “We’re leaving. Now.”

I turned toward her to walk her to the car, but before I could even take a step, she collapsed into me—her full weight pressing against my chest.

“Kamara—” I caught her just in time, arms wrapping around her waist to steady her. Her skin was hot. Burning.

Too hot.

And then her hands started moving slowly. Tracing over my chest, down the front of my shirt, curling into the fabric like she wanted to tear it off.

“Jace,” she whispered, her voice thick and slurred, but laced with something else. Need. “You feel so warm…”

My pulse went cold.

She looked up at me with glassy, unfocused eyes. “Do you… do you ever think about me?” She giggled, almost moaning. “You’re always so tense. So—so hard.”

Her fingers wandered lower. Too low.

I grabbed her wrists. “Kamara. Stop.”

But she didn’t. She leaned in again, lips brushing my neck. “You smell so good. I’ve always thought that. Since the car ride last week…”

“Shit,” I muttered, my grip tightening as I pulled her back. “They drugged her.”

Her pupils were blown wide. She couldn’t stand straight. Her whole body trembled, not from fear, but from whatever the hell they put in her drink.

I held her closer, one arm locking around her waist as I unlocked the car door and pushed it open.

I held her closer, one arm locking around her waist as I unlocked the car door and pushed it open.

She slumped into the seat, but the second I tried to close the door, her hand caught my wrist. “Don’t go.”

“Kamara—” I started, but she tugged harder.

I turned back just as she leaned up, her lips brushing the edge of my jaw. “Stay,” she breathed.

Her fingers slid under the hem of my shirt, tracing along the line of my stomach. I froze, heart thudding.

“Kamara. Stop.”

But she didn’t. She pulled me into the seat beside her, legs crossing over mine like it was instinct. Her hands roamed and were far too aware. Before I could pin with the seatbelt . She moved faster, and in a flash she kissed me,

Hot. Desperate.

Her warm lips pressed against mine, making every sense in me jolt.

For one goddamn second, I leaned in.

She was beautiful. God, she was dangerous. The kind of dangerous you didn’t see coming until it was too late. Every part of her burned. Her scent, her voice.

She looked up at me, confused. “You don’t want to kiss me? You're so mean. “

Shit. I could feel the adrenaline building up in my gro. Why was I reacting this way? I couldn’t remember the last time a woman aroused me talkless of her.

She looked up at me again, lips parted, eyes heavy and hazy. “You don’t want me?” she whispered. “No one wants me.”

Her breath hitched, her hands sliding up again, fingers tracing the shape of my jaw, then the curve of my neck.

I caught her wrists a second time, firmer now. “Kamara,” I warned, voice low. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

She giggled, almost childlike. Then frowned. “You’re mean,” she mumbled. “Always so serious. I just… I wanted to feel something. I thought maybe if I touched you, I’d feel safe.”

Her voice cracked on that last word, and for the first time, I saw it. The fear underneath the haze. The tremble behind the flirtation.

. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

She blinked, like she wanted to respond but the next moment, her whole body slackened. Her hands slid from my shirt and dropped into her lap. She was asleep.

Just like that.

I froze, arms hovering for a second before I gently adjusted her, tucking her into the passenger seat and securing the belt. Her bracelet was still clutched in her palm.

“Shit,” I muttered, running a hand down my face.

She looked peaceful now.

I shut the door, circled to the driver’s side, and slid in.

Her breathing was slow and even, lips parted slightly, her curls damp from sweat and tangled around her face. She didn’t stir when the engine came to life.

As I pulled away from the curb, headlights slicing through the street, I couldn’t stop looking at her.

I’d never had a hard time fighting my urges.