ELLA

I spent most of the day relieved that I had done what I felt was necessary. Call it a gut instinct. Call it whatever, but based on the threatening text message I received, I felt like Luke’s presence—no matter how short of a time he was around—was only serving to intensify the situation I’ve unscrupulously found myself in.

However, what little relief I felt dissipated the second I stepped foot outside my house. The last remnants of the sun have faded beneath the city skyline, as I walk down this shady city sidewalk. The air is cool and brisk, weather that’s out of place in summertime southern California.

It’s funny how you notice the smallest things when your world is falling apart. Things that seem suspect now are things that have always been. It’s like I notice each and every crack in the crumbling sidewalk, and I’m afraid to step on any one of them for the fear that I might trip to the ground and be rendered defenseless.

Ever since I left the house, climbed into the taxi, and then subsequently climbed back out just a few blocks from my eventual destination, I’ve felt like I’m being followed. But that’s nothing new. I’ve grown accustomed to it, and in fear of being overly paranoid or labeling myself as crazy, I’m refusing to turn around every time I feel a shadow a pass over me.

I’m literally turning my back on my fears—and it’s empowering.

Just up ahead is my destination and once it’s in sight, I quicken my pace. My heels click against the concrete, alerting anyone nearby that a defenseless woman is in the near vicinity. But after tonight, I won’t be defenseless anymore, and I pity the next poor soul who sneaks up behind me like a shadow.

Once I reach the pawn shop, I take a quick glance over my shoulder to make sure I’m truly alone. Again, I feel like there’s somebody behind me, but I’m content with believing it’s only my imagination playing tricks on me. It’s the only way I’m going to be able to survive this ordeal without going crazy, and trust me, I’m basically already there.

I pull the door open and there’s a man behind the counter with a familiar face. Though the store is dimly lit in a pale yellow hue, I’d recognize that face anywhere. His lips wrinkle into a satisfied grin when he locks eyes with me, and unlike everyone else in this world, he remembers who I used to be.

It’s hard to forget your first love, I suppose.

David’s older now, and time definitely hasn’t been kind to him. His hair is tussled and greying. His beard is untrimmed and unruly, to say nothing of the tattered clothes he’s wearing. We both came from the same world and ended up in two different spots in life. I can’t help but to think that luck had something to do with that, but in reality, I know what separates the two of us is that I had ambition and he was content to live in the present.

“Ella Gold,” he mumbles under his breath and leans back on the stool he’s perched on. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

“I need a gun,” I reply shortly and simply. “And I need it to stay off the record…as in, I never came in here.” I wager that whoever is watching me wouldn’t take too kindly to the idea that I’m arming myself.

“Really now?” He scratches at the base of his chin and leans forward. “Sounds like you’re in trouble.”

“It sounds like that’s none of your concern.”

He crosses his arms over each other defiantly. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Bullshit,” I spit. “The word on the street is that you can deliver what I’m looking for.”

“The word on the street, eh?” He climbs off the stool and shifts to the right so that he’s towering above a selection of handguns in a glass box. “I never thought I’d see you again.” His eyes catch mine, purposefully I imagine. “But I guess you’re not the same girl I used to know.”

“Can you give me a gun or not?”

“Sure thing…” He grins wickedly, chews into his bottom lip and laughs. “Ella Stone.”

I attempt to stare him down, but I can’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I bow my head out of shame or something else. I’m not sure which it is anymore. “That’s not who I am anymore.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” He nods. “You’re a big shot thing now. Living your life by making a living at home, designing corporate websites and shit. I’m sure the inheritance from your parents set you up good for life.”

“Why are we talking about this?” I question like I don’t already know the answer. Perhaps if I play the game long enough, he’ll eventually just agree to play along. The last thing I want or need right now is to delve into my past. That’s an entirely different set of demons. “If you’re just going to waste my time, then I’ll go to someone who can give me what I’m after.”

“There it is.” He points squarely at me and chuckles maliciously. “There’s that fire I remember. The same fire you always denied was there, back when you were denying that you did the things everyone swore you had done.”

“Enough,” I scold him between flat lips. “I’ll go somewhere else to get a gun.” I twist on my feet and brace both hands against the door to push it open.

“Wait!”

I cock my head over one shoulder and stare him down, waiting for him to say something meaningful.

“I’ve got some guns in the back with the serial numbers scrubbed off.”

I can’t help but to smile a barely-there smile. “Thank you.”

“This way.” He nods to a black curtain hanging from a doorway behind him.

I step past the counter and through the dark curtains, following him into the back room of the pawn shop. It’s even darker back here than it is in the front room. Lights hang from the ceiling and sway to the breeze of the industrial air conditioner that sounds like it’s on its last dying breath.

There’s a distinct odor of musk that seems more than fitting for the thin layer of dust that covers everything. Over the years, I’ve heard rumblings that David owned a pawn shop that was just a front. Behind the scenes, it was a meeting place for the most corrupt people in this city, and the site of many off-the-record gun sales.

I had initially hesitated coming here, not only because I was afraid to step foot on this side of the city, but also because I’ve been terrified of coming face to face with my past. There are skeletons in my closet that I’m not even comfortable with facing. If someone followed me here, then I risk everything being exposed, and the last thing I need to give to the people harassing me is any more leverage than they already have.

David comes to a stop at a steel rack bolted into the wall.

He begins to dig through a box until his eyes catch mine, and then he freezes in place like he’s just been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar. “Are you having second thoughts, Miss Stone?”

My throat tenses and my throat dries. “I told you to stop calling me that.”

“Right.” He nods, purses his lips. “How could I forget?”

“Can we just get this over with?” I sigh and comb one hand through my long hair.

“Why?” He cocks a brow and pulls a black handgun with a silver stock out of the box. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Anywhere but here. “I’m just tired.”

“You poor thing,” he coos, taunting me. “You do look tired. Worse for wear.” He crosses his arms, the gun dangling from one hand. “Can I ask you a question.”

I close my eyes and nod.

“Was it worth it? Becoming Ella Gold, I mean. Did you get everything you ever wanted?”

“I’m doing what I should have done before, which is taking my safety into my own hands.”

“You’re not really answering my question.” He drops the gun on the shelf and then shifts his body towards mine. “And you know how much I hate that, or at least you should remember.”

“Yeah,” I scowl. “How could I ever forget?”

“I don’t like it when people play games with me.” He grabs me at the side and pushes me against a wall in the space between two shelves. “I especially don’t like it when you’re playing games with me.”

This is what I was afraid of in coming here. There are a hundred places in this city I could have gone, but I was assured this was my best bet because I had a shared history with David Matheson. It would make the transaction simpler, that was the general idea anyways. In reality, it’s anything but.

He pushes one knee between my thighs, and his breath is hot fire against my skin, smelling of whiskey and musk. I cock my head to the side to try and avert the feeling of his breath on my skin, but it doesn’t do anything to suppress the weight of his body against mine.

“What are you doing, David?”

“Why?” he questions with a huff. “Am I scaring you?”

I narrow my eyes on him and swallow a gulp. “Give me the damn gun and I’ll be on my way.”

“Really now?” He chuckles to himself and piece by piece, I’m remembering why he was one of the many people I left behind. He’s a figment of my past for a reason. “Do you think it’s that simple?” He leans in closer to me so that his lips are pressed against my ear, sending chills down the length of my body. “Did you think I’d just give you a gun for free?”

I swallow again, this time nervously. It’s been ages since I’ve last seen him, and I don’t know what he’s capable of anymore. I also know that I don’t want to find out. I grit my teeth. “If you don’t get your hands off of me, I’ll kill you.”

“There’s that fire again.” He laps his tongue against the side of my neck and laughs malevolently. “You’re really starting to turn me on, Ella.”

I lock my eyes with him, and for a specific reason. I want him to watch me carefully before I do what I’m about to do. I raise my knee slightly before jerking it back and then kicking it forward to land with a powerful blow against his balls. He recoils backwards, clutching his privates as he stumbles. He throws out random expletives from his throat as I rip the gun off the shelving unit, and just as I’m about to disappear through the black curtain, he grabs me by the waist and pulls me backwards, throwing me against another steel shelf.

My back lands with a crack against the hard metal and I drop the gun to the floor. He lifts one hand up and tangles his fingers around my throat before pushing me backwards so my head is draped against the shelf.

“Who the hell do you think you are,” he growls and tightens his grip on my throat. “You come into my place and think you’re going to get away with that shit? You really don’t know me anymore. I’m not that young boy you used to date.”

I claw at his wrists with my fingers, trying in vain to force him to release me, but it only serves to make him squeeze my throat tighter. I’m gasping for air, digging my nails deeper into the skin of his flesh, and just as my vision’s about to go dark, his grip loosens and then leaves my throat all together.

My eyes flash open and he’s gone, but my eyes follow the sounds of a struggle to my right. Someone is on top of him, holding him down while launching a barrage of fists against his face. God knows why, but I scream for him to stop all the while massaging my swollen neck.

The man on top of him cranes his head over his shoulder and my mouth drops open and my eyes go wide. “Luke!?” His eyes bore into mine, and in his eyes, I see fury and anger. Instinctively, I rip the gun off the floor and aim it squarely at him even though I have no intention of pulling the trigger. “Get off of him.”

“Are you kidding me?” he growls, delivering one last punch against David’s face, and then jumps to his feet. David scuffles across the floor beneath him, but Luke is more interested in getting me out of here than continuing the fight. He drags me out of the back room, through the shop, and then finally back out onto the city streets.

And call it intuition, but I think we’re about to fight ourselves.

Could this night get any worse?

Probably.