His Trouble Maker

Chapter 50

JESSICA

76%

“You should eat something,” Pierce says, setting a plate beside my bed. It’s been forty–eight hours since my discharge, and I haven’t left my

room.

I stare at the food without interest. “Not hungry.”

“Jessica…” His voice softens in that way I can’t stand–pity wrapped in concern.

“Don’t.” I pull myself up to sitting. “Just… don’t.”

When he leaves, I drag myself to the bathroom, avoiding my reflection. The shower helps, hot water scalding my skin until I feel something again, even if it’s just pain. As I’m toweling off, I hear voices outside. One of them is Grayson’s. I freeze, strain to listen.

“-shouldn’t be here,” Pierce says.

“I need to see her.”

“You’ve done enough damage.”

Their voices drop lower, and I press my ear against the door.

“There’s something you don’t understand,” Grayson’s voice sounds desperate.

“It wasn’t about failing her. The council-” The front door slams, cutting off whatever he was about to say. I slowly slide down the bathroom wall until I’m sitting on the cold tile floor.

The council?

What did they have to do with this?

A thought occurs to me–a dangerous one. What if this isn’t about me being weak at all? What if there’s something else going on–something they’re not telling me? I pull myself up, a new determination taking hold. If Grayson won’t tell me the truth, I’ll find it myself.

I grab my phone and text the one person who knows everything that happens in this pack: “Theo, I need a favor. I’ll tell you later. Pretty please?”

Damn it. I swear I won’t ever ask Theo for favors, but I need answers. My reflection catches my eye–hollow cheeks, dark circles, hair hanging in wet strands. I look pathetic. Weak. Just like they all think I am.

“Fuck that,” I growl, yanking open drawers, grabbing clothes.

I throw on black jeans and a tank top, not bothering to dry my hair. My muscles ache as I stretch, reminding me of how long I’ve been lying in that bed. Wasting time.

My phone buzzes.

Theo: “What kind of favor we talking about?

I type back while shoving my feet into boots: *Access to council records. Last meeting.”

Theo: That’s not a favor, that’s suicide. What happened to you?‘

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11:17 Tue, 12 Aug

Chapter 50

explain later.

jacket, pull it on with jerky movements. My heart hammers against my ribs–not from fear but from something else. Rage. Pure, brutal rage that’s been building for

‘Fine, North entrance. 20 minutes. Don’t

my bedroom door. Pierce is sitting at the kitchen table,

“Jessica? What are you–”

him off,

chair scraping. “You’re

facing him.

His face pales. “What did Grayson tell

laugh, harsh and sharp. “Nothing. That’s the

doorknob, twisting it hard. Pierce

“You can’t just-”

wrench away, shoving him back with a strength that surprises us

stumbles, eyes

step closer, my voice dropping to something dangerous. “What did the council have to do with

silence tells me

thought.” I

as I step outside.

look back over my shoulder, a cold smile forming. “Let them

My ribs ache with each step. But I’m done crying, done waiting for Grayson to decide I’m

his worried eyes and that goddamn frown when I try to do anything

I mutter, kicking a stone across the pavement. It skitters away into darkness like my patience did about three

ago.

again. Grayson has been calling me. I don’t care about

decline and shoving it back

when I’m furious with him. I hate how much I crave his touch even while I’m plotting to go behind his back. Most of all, I hate how I can’t

wiping angrily

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11:17 Tue, 12 Aug

Chapter 50

for two minutes when I sense it—a shadow shifting where

quickens. The streetlights flicker, casting long, dark fingers across

pick up my pace, boots scuffing against concrete.

there?” I call out, hating how

Nothing.

I can grab it, something–someone–slams into me from behind. A hand clamps over my mouth, muffling my scream as I’m shoved roughly

د

a low voice growls in my ear, hot breath

his grip, but he’s solid muscle, pinning me effortlessly. My

I find myself staring into the coldest blue eyes

Theo.

“Shut. The fuck. Up.”

bite down on his

The pressure releases for just a

he twists, catching my

goddamn seconds?”

hands off me,” I

his hands on either side of my head. “No can do, sweetheart. There’s a patrol two

don’t give a