Chapter 8 · She Can Smell a Lie

My phone was still buzzing in my hand when Ronan reached for it.

I pulled it back.

"Don’t." His voice came rough from the other side of the abandoned laundromat. He had one hand pressed under his ribs, where blood kept soaking through his black shirt. "That’s Vera."

"Yeah, no kidding." I looked at the screen again. Unknown number. Same one that had sent me the picture of Dex tied to a chair, his left eye swollen shut. "She seems charming."

The phone stopped.

Then it rang again.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. "Put it on speaker."

"You don’t get to order me around because you’re leaking on a washing machine."

"Quinn."

I hated that one word. Hated that it got under my skin.

I hit accept and held the phone between us.

"Aw," Vera said. Her voice was smooth and bright, like she was calling to sell me luxury skincare. "You’re both alive. I was starting to think Mick’s little scavengers had ruined my evening."

Ronan pushed away from the washer. His face had gone still. Too still.

"Where’s Dex?" I asked.

"Breathing. Complaining. He has a very creative mouth, actually. I can see why you keep him around.