rm on her face. She didn't call a car. The crisp air felt good in her

y to a quieter, older part of the city. The walk was long, about fifteen minutes,

, followed by the low, ug

a narrow alle

ing, was to keep walking. Not her problem. But the scream echoed, laced with

ond chance. She wouldn't

ght, she turned and

school uniform. Her blazer had been torn from her shoulders, and the top buttons of her white shirt were ripped open. She was clutching the shredded fabric to her ch

ul of her hair and yanked her head back against the brick. "Just give

h the tense air, cold a

a black dress, her figure slender, almost delicate

took a step toward Faye, his eyes roaming over her body. "Another pr

s dirty fingers ai

r touch

not entirely hers took over, fluid and instinctive. She caught his wrist, twiste

mal sound of pure agony. He crumpled

ith angry shouts, momenta

of his ribs. He gasped, the air leaving his lungs in a pained whoosh as he crumpled. Simultaneously, she delivered

cy. Her movements had not been frantic. They had been economical, precise, and utterly lethal. She had not swu

shadows, a black Bentley had rolled to

tical, were fixed on the woman in black. But it was not just the violence that held his attention. It was the way she moved. Not like a brawler. Not like someone who

was gaping. "Holy crap. Uncle Chaz,

n from the main road and w

ic beat against his knee. She had just done in ten seconds what would have take

Faye Barnes ha

voice, now gentle, was a stark contrast to the violence she had just unleash

oftly. "It is oka

eyes were wide, darting between Faye and the groaning men on th

he black dress jacket she was wearing and held

dy eyes. At the white bandage peeking out from under the jacket sleeve. Somethin

crum

ll body shook violently, her sobs muffled against Faye's shoulder. "Thank you," she

l, holding her steady. "I know. I know. But

d the Bentley. Dylan's face had gone pale. "Jesus. Thos

then turn around and comfort a child like a mother. The two sides of

voice was hesit

, his voice low.

ack just enough to look at the

wiping her eyes with the ba

too big, but it covered the ripped buttons, and that was what mattered. "Lis

ed, still

mbled in his pocket. He pulled out a switchblade. The blade snapped open with a menac

ng Chloe. She coul

Chaz

e man's twisted face, the trajectory of the blade aimed directly at Fay

e passenger seat, his voice cutt