Stumbling back, she felt her heart racing and began to feel light-headed. She had to get out of here. Had to restart her day, something.
Moving away from whatever was going on with them, she rushed to her bedroom and grabbed the backpack that had been with her for the longest time. After opening it up, she packed her few meager belongings, shoving them inside. Worn jeans and shirts she had gotten from thrift stores. It was the story of her life—her and her backpack drifting from one place to another.
“Where are you going?”
She spun toward the door, seeing the killer filling the space.
“I’ve got to get out of here. You were right. It’s not safe for me, but I’m not going to die, or end up someone’s … bed partner. I’m not a whore.” She felt tears fill her eyes. Clenching her hands into fists, she took slow, deep breaths.
One of the older foster girls she knew had told her to do this. When she felt like she was on the verge of a panic attack, to take control. No one could take away her ability to breathe, to bring herself back from the brink.
All the power had always been taken away from her.
There was nowhere for her to turn. No one she could trust.
Life was way too scary, and some days, like today, she wondered what the point was.
There were no real cops. No good guys. She had to get out of the city, to move on with her life somehow.
“Priest,” he said.
“Huh?”
“That’s my name. It’s Priest.” He held out his hand. “And I could use your help.”
“I … I’m no one,” she said.
“No, you’re not. These men, or whoever their boss is, want you, and if you slip through their fingers, it’s going to end up worse for you. You’re someone, Cleo Bennet.”
She shook her head, denying it.
“I can protect you.”
“You were going to kill me.”
“Was I?” he asked. “Because like you said back in the car, if I was going to kill you, I’d have done it already.”
That was true.
“I … what will I have to do?” she asked.
“Help me bring down the men who want you dead. My boss wants them all taken out. You’ll be working for me. You’ll stay with me, and I’ll take care of those cops that put your life in danger.”
Cleo had no other choice. There was no option for her.
She couldn’t go back to the hotel, not now, not with knowing what was going on there. Nibbling on her lip, she glanced around at her apartment. She’d been taking care of herself, legally, for six whole years, and she still didn’t feel like she had her life in any kind of order. None of her dreams or wishes had come true. Far from it.
There was no backing out now.
Priest snatched her backpack and tossed it in the corner. For her, it symbolized letting go of everything she’d ever known.
She reached out for Priest’s outstretched hand. He was now her only lifeline.
“Now wait for me in the hallway.”