Broken Songbird (Vicious Games #2)

14. Chapter 14

A s Del and I leave the bathroom, tension pulses through the apartment. Enzo and Lucas stand by the sliding doors to my balcony, both of them looking out, and Creed sits on the edge of my couch, staring at the blank television.

The moment he hears us approaching, he stands and crosses to me. His skin no longer has blood on it, but his T-shirt still has it streaked over his chest and shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Better than I was twenty minutes ago,” I say as he takes my elbow and leads me to the couch.

Del drops the linen pile on the dining table, then crosses to the kitchen, opening the top cabinet where I keep medication.

Creed leans back and pulls something from the pocket of his pants. “We found this under the car.”

He holds out my phone—scuffed pink case and smashed screen, but the device turns on so at least it’s still working.

“Thank you,” I say, plucking it from his hand as Del sets a glass of water and a packet of paracetamol on the coffee table in front of me.

I take two tablets and a sip of water to get the pills down as Enzo turns to face me.

“What happened?” Enzo asks. Straight to the point—the Enzo Way.

“I went to a club, and—”

“With whom?” he asks, cutting me off.

“People on the tram.”

“Strangers?” he asks incredulously.

“One of the men that followed me was there,” I continue, ignoring his question. “He—”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Enzo interrupts again.

“ Accusation , you mean.”

His striking blue eyes narrow as he waits for my answer.

“Yes,” I breathe. “They were strangers.”

“Which club?”

“I don’t know.”

“You approached strangers on public transport and allowed them to lead you to an unknown location?”

“Yes.”

“After what happened last time?” He’s probably referring to the drink-spiking.

“Last time?” Creed asks.

“After that dinner you hijacked,” I say to Enzo, “I needed to blow off steam.”

“By risking your life and flouncing around the city with strangers,” Enzo states. He scoffs, shaking his head. “Just as reckless as Matteo.”

Fury heats my chest. “Just like your brother, I can look after myself.”

“Clearly not,” Enzo seethes. “You got chased and thrown into a car. He got himself shot.”

I shoot up from my seat. “He got killed because you didn’t properly vet your supplier.”

Lucas steps in front of his boss. “Let’s get back to the two dead Navarros in the car park.”

“Navarro?” I ask. “As in Adrian’s men?”

Creed tugs my hand gently, so I sit back down. “I recognised one of them from the meet when Matteo died.”

Why were they following me ? It makes no sense.

“You told Creed he was following you?” Lucas prompts.

I nod. “He was at the club. He danced with me, tried to kiss me. I pushed him off. I didn’t see the other guy until I noticed them following me to the tram when I left.”

“Did you see them on the way to the club?” Lucas asks.

I shake my head.

He turns to Enzo. “This outing wasn’t planned, so they must have followed her from the restaurant. I’ll get Trojan to check footage along the harbour.”

“Trojan?”

Lucas gives me his signature ghost-smile. “Another henchman.”

I nod, leaning forward to take another sip of water as Creed and Lucas talk about coordinating information.

I can feel Creed’s phone vibrate in the pocket of his jacket, and he excuses himself to take it in the bathroom.

“Pack a bag,” Enzo announces while he types on his phone. It takes me a second to realise he’s talking to me.

“Sorry?”

“I’ll have all your things packed tomorrow,” Enzo says, still looking at his phone.

“What are you talking about?”

He finally looks at me, tucking his phone into the inner pocket of his suit jacket. “You’re going home.”

“I am home.”

“Enzo…” Del starts.

“You’re moving back to the Sakura mansion tonight ,” Enzo says.

“No, I’m not.”

“We don’t know why you were targeted by Adrian’s men. And you can’t be trusted to make—”

“Stop,” I demand. “If the next words out of your mouth is ‘your own decisions’, you can leave.”

“You’re going to get yourself or someone else killed.”

I point to the door. “Go.”

Enzo crosses his arms over his chest. “Pack a bag.”

“No.”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead. Enzo might be this kingpin crime lord that uses the bones of his enemies as toothpicks, but I’m not letting him run my life.

“What about our house?” Del offers, trying to dampen the tension between her best friend and her fiancé.

“No,” I say.

“You’re moving out of here tonight,” Enzo commands. “Whether that’s the Sakura mansion or mine, I don’t give a shit. Choose. ”

The bathroom door bursting open finally breaks the tension in the room as Creed rushes out.

“Savage Wings has been hit,” he announces. “They torched the bar and bike shop.”

“Casualties?” Lucas asks.

Creed shakes his head. “But we’re bringing everyone in. Club’s going into lockdown.”

“I’ll go with Creed,” I blurt out without thinking, turning back to Enzo.

“Savage Wings isn’t one of your options,” Enzo says, his tone too calm.

“You want to trap me like a defenceless bird? Fine. Savage Wings is my cage.”

Enzo’s eyes blaze with his frustration, his jaw muscle ticks, but he says nothing.

A satisfied smirk spreads across my face as I stand and walk to my bedroom, a thrill running through my body at defying the controlling bastard. Creed follows me into the room as I hear Del go to Enzo and say something too low for me to hear.

“Why does Enzo look like he’s going to skin you?” Creed asks as I pull out a large, black overnight bag from my closet.

“How long will this lockdown be, exactly?” I ask.

“Probably at least a week,” Creed answers. When I turn back to my closet to get my suitcase, Creed takes my elbow, stopping me. “Scar.”

I sigh, turning back to him. “Enzo thinks I’m a delinquent who’ll get someone, or myself, killed, so he’s trying to lock me up at my parent’s place or his house. I chose you.”

“I agree it would be safer for you to stay somewhere with more people or security,” Creed says. “But he is also a controlling prick.”

I turn back to my task, pulling out my mid-size suitcase and start aimlessly pulling out clothes and packing them into the case. From a young age, I’ve used clothes, and in my teens added make-up, to present the cute, bubbly blonde the world wanted to see from me while hiding the fractured girl under the surface. Not stopping to think about what I’m packing makes my gut twist with anxiety, but I know if I’m not ready in two minutes then Enzo will drag me out of here kicking and screaming.

Once I’ve zipped up my bag, Creed steps forward and pulls the case from the floor. My eyes snag on the blood on his shirt again.

“Wait,” I say then turn back to my closet. I search through the drawers until I find what I was looking for and turn back to Creed. “Here.”

He looks down at the clean T-shirt puzzled. “Pretty sure your clothes are a touch too small for me.”

I unfold the fabric, holding it out. “It’s yours.”

Realisation dawns on his face, followed by amusement. “You know, burglary is a crime.”

“I didn’t break into your club with the intent to commit a crime,” I point out.

“You certainly snuck out like a professional.”

I wince at that. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

Creed thankfully doesn’t push that conversation further and accepts the shirt with thanks, then peels out of his cut and tosses it to the bed.

I turn to pack a small overnight bag while he changes, pull out my charger from the socket beside my bed, and then pack my laptop, headphones, and school things into my messenger bag.

Creed, now dressed in his fresh T-shirt, takes his soiled clothes and my suitcase as he exits the room. I straighten the bedding, check the window locks and close the blinds, then close the door as I step out of the room. I drop my messenger bag on the kitchen bench, then dart into the bathroom with my overnight bag and collect my essential toiletries, make sure everything’s secure and close it up.

The doorway of the apartment is open, and Enzo is standing in the hall on his phone, while Del empties my dishwasher and Lucas stands at the door with a bag of mine and Creed’s soiled clothes and towels in a clear rubbish bag.

I open the fridge, pull out the half-empty milk and yoghurt and dump them down the sink, before discarding them in the bin and tying up the rubbish bag, then pull it out.

Creed takes the rubbish from me, already with my suitcase and messenger bag in his other hand. “Ready?”

I take one more look around. Lucas, I’m assuming, has brought in my balcony furniture and drawn the blinds and sheer curtains. Everything else is in its place.

I’m annoyed that I’m being forced out of this place involuntarily, but I’m almost…giddy. I should feel more about leaving the place that I’ve lived in for four months, but it’s never been home . After this lockdown, it’s definitely time to find somewhere I truly call mine.

I am, however, going to miss Mr. Freckles.

I turn back to Creed and nod.