I’d be lying if I said I’d never imagined myself in jail. I’d always been a hot mess with a talent for getting in way over my head. I’d never considered myself a bad person, but I was certainly no angel either. I always ran with the wrong crowd, said the wrong things, dressed the wrong way, and generally pissed off my father by merely existing. Lawrence Mills had been making my life miserable for years, although if you’d asked him, I’m sure he’d have told you the same about me. Despite my love for the rest of my family, I had to escape him. Which, in a roundabout way, was why my ass was going numb as I sat on a cold concrete bench in a six-by-eight cell.

“Damn,” I muttered as I adjusted my position. “Hey assholes,” I yelled, “are cushions against your religion or something? I can’t feel my legs anymore.”

I didn’t expect an answer. It’d been six hours since I’d been arrested, and outside of my being booked, no one had spoken a word to me. My roommate, Frankie Hopkins, told me she’d be here to bail me out, but I’d yet to see her.

I stood and stretched, hoping to bring some of the feeling back into my limbs. The bland, gray cell was chilly, but actually the perfect temperature for someone like me—a frost dragon shifter. We generally preferred the cold to the heat. I guess when your roots traced back to Iceland, loving the frigid temperatures made sense. It still pissed me off, though. The jackwads didn’t even offer me a damn blanket. I think they hoped I would freeze. If so, the joke was on them.

The large metal door at the end of the hall opened, and I listened as footsteps approached. A uniformed officer and Frankie appeared on the other side of the bars. Her tall slender frame, shoulder-length red curls, and blue eyes were a welcome sight after hours of staring at the same cinderblock walls.

“About time,” I growled, as the officer unlocked the door. His name tag read Barnes.

“You’re free to go, Ms. Mills.” Officer Barnes’s expression appeared as if those words were painful to push past his lips.

I looked at Frankie, and she smiled. I shoved past them both and stalked down the hall to collect my personal items. The lady behind the window slid a paper bag toward me, and I inspected the contents. I grabbed the pen attached to the clipboard and signed to verify everything was there. Frankie held my jacket open, and I pushed my arms through before stuffing the bag into my pocket.

“May I go now?” I asked with more than a little disgust in my voice.

She nodded. Without another word, I walked to the main doors, Frankie on my heels. I pushed one door open, turned to face the officers standing in the lobby, and flipped them off. “Thanks for nothing.”

Frankie rolled her eyes as she shut the door behind us. “Is it really the best strategy to piss off the cops who just arrested you?”

“Are you kidding me?” I glared at her. “Was I supposed to thank them for falsely arresting me, handling me like a piece of meat, and then ignoring me for hours?”

“Of course not,” replied Frankie, “but being a bitch isn’t going to help anything.”

“But . . . I’m so good at it. It’d be a shame to waste my talents.”

Frankie put one perfectly manicured hand on her hip. “And it wasn’t exactly a false arrest. You did break into that safe, right?”

I didn’t know how to explain what had happened. Partially admitting to the altered version of events would make more sense to her than the truth ever would.

“The item I was after belongs to me. I didn’t want any of his other shit.” I grimaced as I searched for her car in the now dark parking lot. “Thanks for bailing me out.”

“Oh . . .” Frankie’s voice was hesitant. “I didn’t actually bail you out.”

My eyebrows rose. “So, how’d you spring me?”

“It was Brandt. I talked him into dropping the charges.” She looked nervous.

I felt my temperature rise. I shook my head as I found the nearest wall and leaned against it. As my eyes closed, I saw large claws, scales, and reptilian irises flash in my mind.

“Damn it, no!” I shouted in frustration.

Frankie placed a hand on my arm. “I’m sorry, Jetta, but I couldn’t come up with the cash. I didn’t know what else to do! I promise it’ll work out. Brandt said he’d forgive everything that has happened. That’s better than a bail bond, court, and a record, right?”

Frankie didn’t understand that, while I was really pissed at her for working out a deal with Brandt on my behalf, the “no” was not about her negotiations. I was commanding my inner dragon to stay back. Being a shifter could be amazing at times, but this was not the time or place to let the beast come out to play. Anytime I felt threatened or upset, she tried to push through and take over. I couldn’t allow that. Not again. I wasn’t back home in Havenwood Falls anymore, where stuff like that was somewhat normal. This was Atlanta, and supernatural creatures of any kind were still considered part of myth and legend. My kind wasn’t welcome in the human world.

I opened my eyes and released a heavy sigh. “So, what did you promise him?”

I quickly walked to her car, not waiting to see if she was following.

Frankie’s heels clicked as she ran to catch up. “Not much. Just that you’d give him a chance.”

“Oh hell, Frankie,” I shouted.

“C’mon, just one dinner. Let him attempt to wine and dine you one more time. Enjoy an expensive meal, then brush him off and move on.” She spoke as if her plan was simple, but she didn’t know Brandt like I did. She didn’t know I’d already been down that road.

“No one walks away from Brandt Sawyer if he feels he’s owed something. It’s why I’m in this mess to begin with.” I frowned. “And now you’re in the middle of it, too.” I pushed my hands through my hair, still caught off guard by the length since having extensions put in. “Damn it!” I banged my fist on top of her car.

She unlocked the car, and we both climbed inside. “Stop being so dramatic. You act like you’re dealing with a mobster or something.”

I looked at her and wondered how she could live in such a big city all her life and still be so sheltered. “He pretty much is. He’ll use our friendship against me.”

“Oh shush.” She started the car. “He’s an arrogant, rich club owner, and your boss, but I highly doubt he’s fitting anyone with cement shoes in his spare time.” She rolled her eyes as she pulled out of the parking lot. “I know I haven’t known you for long, but your paranoia has gotten really bad lately.”

I shook my head. “It’s not paranoia. The man is insane. He—” I cut myself off before I let my secrets slip. Frankie didn’t need to know all the dirty details about my evening with Brandt. Or the reason it all went to hell. “Let’s go home. I’m tired.”

She nodded and steered us toward our apartment. We drove the rest of the way in silence, but once inside, I made a beeline for my whiskey stash. I opened the bottle, poured a healthy amount in a tumbler, and downed it in one swallow.

“It’s gonna be one of those nights, huh,” Frankie stated in a flat voice. She wasn’t a fan of my drinking, but I’d made it clear from the beginning that I had vices and those vices would move in with me. Another perk of being a dragon—or con depending how you looked at it—it took a lot of alcohol to get us shit-faced. Thankfully I had a well-stocked bar.

“Yep,” I muttered. “It’s absolutely gonna be one of those nights.” I poured another glass and threw it back, letting the comforting burn slide down my throat. “Do we have mac and cheese? I’m starving. Getting arrested makes a girl hungry.”

Frankie jerked her thumb in the direction of the kitchen. “Cabinet.”

I nodded and strolled the few short steps it took to travel from our living area to the kitchen, the whiskey bottle my constant companion.

* * *

The alarm clock screamed in my ears. I rolled over and glared at the blue glowing digits. Seven a.m. wasn’t terribly early, but it felt that way when you’d consumed all the alcohol in the house. I slammed my fist down on top, knocking the clock to the floor.

“Shiiiiiiit,” I moaned loudly as I rolled over. My mouth felt like I’d swallowed a distillery. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but I really needed to run errands before rehearsals that afternoon. Rehearsals! Work! I bolted upright in bed as my mind reeled with the events of the previous night. Brandt. Our fight. The safe. Jail.

I couldn’t stay here, not now. I slid from the bed and pulled my suitcase out from underneath. Tossing it on the bed, I unzipped it and made a beeline for the dresser. Without care or organization, I dumped the contents of my drawers into the suitcase, followed by my clothes in the closet. I had to sit on the lid to zip it shut, but after no small amount of effort, I managed to force it closed.

“I need to get dressed,” I muttered as I realized I’d just packed everything. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the clothes I’d worn the previous evening. Frowning, I looked them over. They were wrinkled, but even worse was the blood on the right sleeve and back of my shirt. I wasn’t sure if all that blood was mine. Some of it may have belonged to Brandt. Both of us were injured the night before. Anger seethed beneath the surface. I had to take care of this problem before it became impossible to correct.

I pulled my bloody blouse on over the T-shirt I’d slept in and slid my legs into my jeans. I crammed my feet into my boots, not caring that I was without socks. I took a few minutes to pack the rest of my personal items scattered around the apartment, and then I hauled it all out into the living area near the door.

My eyes scanned the small two-bedroom apartment I’d been calling home for over a month. The dingy yellow paint, the kitchenette, the tattered secondhand furniture. I’d miss it all.

“What the hell are you doing?” Frankie whined as she stepped out of her room. She was rubbing her eyes and yawning, her red curls a wild mess around her head.

“I’m going home.” I grabbed my jacket from the back of the sofa and put it on.

“What?” The shock of my announcement woke her up fully.

“I tried this. It didn’t work. It’s time to go back to Havenwood Falls.”

She stepped forward and put a hand on my arm. “Are you sure? You hated it there.”

I nodded. “Now, I hate it here more.”

Frankie frowned, and I realized what I’d said sounded harsh. I pulled her in for a hug. “It’s not you, sweetie. I love you. It’s this city. I’m better off in a small community. And I can’t be in the same area as Brandt. It’s not safe.”

Puzzled, Frankie sighed. “Okay then. I think you’re overreacting, but do what you gotta do.”

I slipped her a wad of cash. “This should cover my part of the rent for the next six months. That’ll give you time to find a suitable roommate, and you won’t have to accept the first weirdo that answers your ad.”

She grinned. “You mean like I did with you?”

“Exactly.” I smiled. “Don’t let another freak cross that threshold. You were lucky with me. The next one might not be so great. Be picky.”

She pulled me in for another hug. “I’m gonna miss you, roomie. You’re weird, but I like that.”

“I’ll miss you too,” I said softly. “I need to load this stuff in the Jeep, and then I’m out of here. Do not engage with Brandt or any of his goons, okay? Once I’m gone, he’ll likely leave you alone.”

She nodded. “Will do.”

It took three trips to haul all my belongings to the Jeep. Once my stuff was packed away, I said a final goodbye to Frankie and pointed my vehicle in the direction of Sawyer’s Bar. I’d been away from home for roughly 41 days. I’d tried to assimilate, but the time had come to accept defeat. I had one final stop to make before I put Atlanta in my rearview mirror.