THE BRUISE HE COULDN'T IGNORE

I stared at the silver lighter resting on the white sheets.

M.V.

Mitchell Vance.

My stomach violently turned. Mitchell had been at the Velvet Onyx? He never came to my job. He said he hated the wealthy snobs who ate there. He told me he was working a double shift at the precinct tonight.

He was sitting at the bar. Watching you.

“Why would he be watching me?” I murmured, pulling my knees to my chest, ignoring the sharp sting in my ribs.

“Because he knows you’re going to run,” Gabriel said calmly. He stood up and walked over to a dark wooden dresser. “Abusers always know when the bird is finally looking at the cage door.”

He picked up a folded stack of clothes. My clothes.

The cheap black uniform pants. The white button-down shirt.

And my gray wool winter coat.

“My staff brought your things from the restaurant locker room,” Gabriel explained, setting them at the foot of the bed. “When my doctor was checking your ribs, something fell out of your coat pocket.”

Gabriel reached into his own pocket and pulled out a piece of paper.

It was folded neatly into a small square.

I gasped, my hand instinctively flying to my mouth.

Gabriel slowly unfolded it.

It was a child’s drawing. Done in bright blue and red crayon. A stick figure of a woman holding hands with a smaller stick figure. Above them, written in wobbly, uneven letters, were the words:

MOMMY AND LEO.

“You have a son,” Gabriel said. It wasn’t a question.

My heart hammered against my chest. “Give that back.”

“Where is he, Harper?” Gabriel’s voice was softer now, but the intensity in his eyes was terrifying.

“He’s safe,” I lied, my voice shaking. “He’s at a sleepover.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Gabriel took a step closer to the bed. “If Mitchell was watching you at work, where is your son?”

“He’s at his babysitter’s!” I yelled, tears finally spilling over my cracked concealer. “Mrs. Gable. She lives three blocks from our apartment. Mitchell doesn’t know where she lives. He hates Leo. He ignores him.”

Gabriel stared at me. The muscles in his jaw tightened.

“Mrs. Gable?” Gabriel repeated.

“Yes. Clara Gable.”

Gabriel let out a harsh, bitter breath. He looked up at the ceiling, running a hand through his dark hair.

“Harper,” Gabriel said, looking back at me with a profound, terrifying pity. “Clara Gable’s maiden name is Clara Vance. She is Mitchell’s aunt.”

The room spun.

“No,” I whispered. “No, she’s an old woman I met at the park. She offered to watch him for cheap—”

“Mitchell set you up,” Gabriel interrupted, stepping right to the edge of the bed. “He made sure the only person you trusted with your child was a member of his own family. It’s leverage. If you ever try to leave him, he already has your son.”

A wave of pure, unfiltered panic crashed over me.

I had dropped Leo off at 2:00 PM. I was supposed to pick him up at midnight. It was currently 1:45 AM.

I threw myself out of the bed.

Pain tore through my side, but I didn't care. I grabbed my clothes.

“I have to go,” I sobbed, struggling to pull my shirt over my taped ribs. “I have to get him. Oh my God, my baby.”

Gabriel grabbed my shoulders, steadying me. His hands were incredibly warm.

“You are not going alone,” Gabriel said.

“You don’t understand, Mitchell is a detective! He’ll kill me! He’ll take Leo!”

“Mitchell is a dead man walking,” Gabriel’s voice dropped to a lethal whisper. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

Gabriel turned and walked toward the bedroom door.

“Put your coat on, Harper. We’re going to get your son.”

I pulled my gray wool coat on, my hands shaking violently. I reached into the pocket, desperately needing to feel Leo's drawing again to ground myself.

My fingers brushed against something hard and metallic deep inside the lining.

I paused.

I pulled the object out.

It was a heavy gold watch.

A Rolex. Encrusted with diamonds.

I recognized it instantly. It was the watch Alderman Raymond Brooks had been wearing at Table Seven.

Why was the Alderman’s stolen watch in my coat pocket?

Before I could process it, the bedroom door opened.