Astrid Sinclair

The metal pipe scraped against the wet concrete again—a sharp, screeching sound that cut straight through the roaring thunder. The three figures were moving faster now, their heavy boots splashing through the dark puddles of Grand Avenue.

"I-I'm getting in!" I choked out, my voice cracking as a violent shudder wracked my body.

I scrambled backward into the passenger seat of the Audi R8, my wet sneakers slipping on the premium floor mat. Before I could even pull my heavy, waterlogged backpack inside, Calix reached across the console. His massive hand grabbed the strap of my bag, hauling it inward, and slammed the heavy door shut.

The interior of the car instantly cut off the deafening sound of the storm, leaving only the deep, aggressive purr of the engine. Calix threw the car into drive, his foot hitting the gas pedal with brutal precision. The tires spun for a fraction of a second against the flooded asphalt before the car launched forward, throwing me back into the plush leather seat.

I looked out the side window just in time to see the three men disappear into the dark, rainy blur behind us.

"Jesus Christ," I breathed, my hands trembling violently as I pressed them against my face. "They were... they actually had weapons."

"Shut up," Calix said, his voice flat, dangerously quiet, and completely devoid of its usual mocking tone.

"What?" I turned my head to look at him, my eyes wide with a mix of leftover adrenaline and fresh irritation. "Calix, they were coming right for us. If you hadn't—"

"I said shut the fuck up, Sinclair," he barked, his dark eyes fixed entirely on the road ahead. He reached over and slammed his hand against the climate control dashboard, turning the heater up to its maximum setting. "Don't say a word. Not a single fucking word for the rest of this ride."

"You can't just order me around like an animal!" I snapped, the anger rushing back to replace my fear. I gripped the edge of the leather seat, ignoring the fact that my soaked clothes were leaving a massive, dark puddle on his pristine interior. "You forced me into your car, and now you’re going to lecture me about being quiet? I didn't ask for your help!"

"You're right, you didn't," he sneered, his jaw clenching so hard a sharp line formed along his cheekbone. He took a sharp left turn, the car handling the wet corner perfectly. "Your pride was perfectly happy to let you get your head caved in by a metal pipe for sixteen dollars an hour. I made the executive decision to interfere because I don't feel like answering questions from the police when your body shows up at the docks tomorrow morning."

"I am trying to go to work!" I yelled over the blast of the hot air blowing from the vents. "I have a shift to finish! I have bills to pay, Calix! You think this is a joke? You think I can just skip a night because the weather is bad? If I don't show up, I lose the job. If I lose the job, I can't afford the four hundred dollars for my room!"

"Do you think I give a single fuck about your four hundred dollars right now?" Calix roared, finally cutting his eyes toward me for a split second. The raw fury in his gaze made the breath catch in my throat. "Look at yourself! You’re shivering so hard you can barely form a sentence. Your clothes are completely ruined, your shoes are flooded, and you’re still screaming at me about a goddamn utility deposit!"

"Because it’s my life!" I screamed back, tears of frustration finally breaking through my defenses, hot and angry against my cold skin. "It’s my life, Calix! It’s all I have! I don't have a safety net. I don't have a billionaire father who can write a check to wipe away my mistakes. If I fail, I am completely on my own. So yeah, I care about the sixteen dollars an hour! I care about every single cent!"

"Then care about it in silence," he whispered, his voice dropping back into that terrifying, icy register. He turned his eyes back to the windshield, his large hands gripping the leather steering wheel at the ten-and-two position so tightly his knuckles turned entirely white. "I don't want to hear your voice right now, Astrid. I don't want to hear your excuses, I don't want to hear your logic, and I damn sure don't want to hear your pride. Just sit there, get warm, and keep your mouth shut before I lose my mind completely."

I bit my lower lip, forcing myself to turn away from him. I pressed my forehead against the cool glass of the passenger window, watching the blurred city lights streak past through the heavy sheets of rain.

The silence inside the car became absolute, heavy and suffocating. The only sound was the steady roar of the heater, which was slowly beginning to defrost my frozen limbs. The heat felt incredibly good, a luxury I knew I couldn't afford on my own, which only made the bitter taste of humiliation in my mouth taste worse.

I looked down at the luxury dashboard. A digital clock glowed in a sleek, neon blue font: 11:52 PM.

My shift started in exactly eight minutes.

We were approaching the main transit intersection near the eastern edge of the university campus. This was the spot where the city buses clustered, the standard drop-off point for anyone trying to get back to the dorms or the student library. I braced myself, reaching down to grab the straps of my backpack, assuming Calix was going to dump me on the curb here to get rid of me.

"You can just let me out at the transit island," I muttered quietly, breaking his rule because the thought of him driving me back to our apartment building made my stomach twist. "I can find a dry spot under the awning until the morning bus runs."

Calix didn't even blink. He didn't slow down.

As the car approached the green light at the transit island, he pressed his foot firmly on the accelerator. The Audi surged past the campus stops, leaving the university buildings behind as we headed straight down the industrial corridor toward the darkest part of the downtown district.

"Calix!" I sat up straight, my heart spiking again. "What the hell are you doing? You passed the campus stop! The apartment is back that way!"

He didn't say a word. He kept his eyes locked on the road, his expression completely unreadable, a stone mask in the dim light of the dashboard.

"Are you kidnapping me?" I demanded, my voice rising in a panic. "Turn the car around! I swear to god, Calix, if you think you can just play with my life because you’re bored—"

"Look out the front window, Sinclair," he cut in, his voice deadpan.

I blinked, shifting my gaze toward the dark street ahead. The car rounded a massive brick warehouse, and the headlights illuminated a familiar, depressing sight. It was a crumbling concrete structure with a faded, rusted blue sign hanging from a single chain: Downtown Community Pool & Fitness Annex.

My jaw dropped.

Calix pulled the sports car directly up onto the curb, stopping right in front of the heavy iron security doors of the building. He didn't just drop me off nearby; he parked the car so close to the entrance that the passenger door was perfectly aligned with the small concrete awning above the steps, ensuring I wouldn't take a single drop of rain when I exited.

He had kept my crumpled schedule sheet in his mind. He knew exactly where the facility was, and he had timed the drive perfectly.

I looked at the digital clock on the dashboard. 11:57 PM.

I had exactly three minutes before my shift officially began. I wasn't going to be late. I wasn't going to lose my job.

"How did you..." I started, turning to look at him, the anger completely draining out of me, replaced by an overwhelming, confusing wave of emotion. My chest felt tight, a strange ache blooming behind my ribs. "You drove me straight to my shift."

"Move, Sinclair," Calix said softly, his voice carrying a strange, heavy tiredness. He didn't look at me. He kept his hands firmly planted on the steering wheel, his gaze fixed on the rusted iron doors of the pool building. "You have three minutes to punch your little timecard. Don't waste the gas I used getting you here."

I swallowed hard, my fingers wrapping around the handle of the passenger door. I pushed it open, the cold, crisp smell of the rainy night rushing back into the warm cabin. I swung my legs out, my sneakers hitting the dry concrete beneath the awning.

But as I went to step out completely, something made me pause.

I turned my head back into the car, my eyes drifting down from his shadowed face toward his arms. The sleeves of his dark t-shirt were pulled up, revealing the thick, powerful muscles of his forearms, glistening with a few leftover drops of rain. His large hands were still clamping the leather steering wheel with an intense, rigid grip, the veins standing out in sharp, defined ridges against his tanned skin.

I couldn't look away. There was something so raw, so effortlessly powerful and chaotic about the way he held himself, a fierce intensity that seemed to vibrate through the entire frame of the car. I found myself staring at his fingers, at the sheer size of his hands, wondering how someone so cruel and arrogant could feel so anchoring in the middle of a storm.

The silence stretched between us for one long, agonizing second.

Suddenly, Calix’s eyes snapped sideways, catching me dead in the act of looking. His dark pupils dilated, and I watched as the muscle in his jaw tightened into a hard, rigid line, his teeth grinding together so fiercely his entire face went entirely sharp.

"I said move," he growled, his voice dropping into a register so low it sent a violent, unbidden shiver straight down my spine.