That guy? The bastard’s got a rap sheet longer than one of your little poems. He’s dangerous. It’s because of him that I’m on fucking suspension—” He breaks off, but my curiosity grows. He never mentioned why he suddenly got “time off” a full month earlier than when he usually takes his trip. I hadn’t thought anything of it before. But now?
Suspension…
“Besides,” he says, “you don’t need a tattoo. You’re perfect the way you are.”
Perfect. That word sticks in my throat, choking me. “Bran… I have to go.”
“Fine.” He sighs, still trying to regain his calm but authoritative tone. “You’re working today?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll have Liam stop by and take you out to lunch. He’ll be out on patrol.”
Liam. His partner, now turned spy? I’m not brave enough to ask. Or even argue. “Won’t he be busy?” I say instead.
Branden grunts out something that could be interpreted as a laugh. “Too busy to show his partner’s baby sister around town? Let him. Just… don’t run your mouth about anything silly.” His voice slips again—a warning. Something silly. Like home. Our lives before moving here. His past. “Try not to talk his ear off. He’s been bugging me to meet you.”
“Branden—”
“This way, at least I know you’re safe,” he insists, letting the implication hang between us as subtle as a storm cloud. I can guess what he doesn’t say. Because if I don’t, I’ll come back now.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Bye, Han,” he tells me. “Have a good day.”
I hang up and get dressed, cycling through various items of clothing until I look at myself in the mirror and freeze. Around me lie piles of discarded garments—my typical favorite sweaters. Left behind is an old sundress I bought on clearance last year, that I don’t even remember wearing before now. It’s thin, a pale yellow linen that hangs on my frame. Simple, but at least it’s devoid of bunnies. Not that anything, in particular, is shaping my current desire for change.
Or anyone.
After brushing my hair, I leave my building for the heat of the early morning. Summer is already creeping in, displacing the crisp spring chill with blazing sunlight. I could take it as a good omen. That today will be a step in a new direction, despite Branden’s invisible collar, choking away what little freedom I have left.
Today, there will be no Rafe, at least.
No more games.
Just fresh air and the depths of the bookstore to look forward to. I hold on to that hope until the second I approach the Paper Crane. When I take in the storefront, my optimism plummets, dashed to pieces on the sidewalk. A lone figure waits for me, leaning against the entrance.
He switched up his outfit today, as well. Rather than a scruffy leather jacket, he’s paired his jeans with a gray T-shirt that stretches tight over his muscular forearms. By design, I suspect.
One could assume that his intimidating attire is in the wash—but there’s a method to his seemingly simple style. He doesn’t really catch the average pedestrian’s notice, and they scurry past him, innocently oblivious.
But those who do see him find it hard to look away. Impossible. Much like spotting a panther blending in with his surroundings—once you discover the predator hidden amongst the leaves, the whole tree disappears, and you know no other reality than as prey.
“Morning, bunny,” he says, eyeing me up and down.
I turn my back to him and unlock the door to the shop. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I thought we had this discussion,” he says, following me inside even though I try letting the door shut behind me. “I own here, bunny.”
“I’m busy.” I scramble to put distance between us by positioning myself behind the counter. For whatever reason, he doesn’t follow and instead chooses to lean against a wall of bookcases.
“Tonight?” he wonders in a tone that catches me off guard. Cautious? I sneak a glance in his direction, but his expression is carefully blank and reveals no answers. “You better not be, bunny. I’ve decided to cash in on that favor you owe me.”
I frown and risk breaking my concentration by turning to face him fully. “What favor?”
He cocks his head, a sly grin shaping his lips. “The one you earned by skipping away with Zhang’s debts miraculously paid. I’ve decided it’s time you repaid me. With interest.”
I scoff and set my bag onto the counter before dragging an old logbook Mr. Zhang uses for inventory toward me. I heft it open and find the page with the latest