Nadia POV
Petra Keeps Score
The Rusty Blade was the perfect place to disappear.
It was loud and warm and smelled like fried food and old wood. Titans pennants covered every wall. Above the bar, three televisions played three different games at once. Nobody looked twice at a girl sitting across from a hockey player. That was the point.
Cole picked the corner booth with his back to the wall. I took the seat across from him and had barely set my jacket down when he said, quietly, "He's been here since before we arrived."
I followed his gaze — didn't turn my head, didn't look. "I know," I said. "He was outside when we walked in. Grey jacket. Press tag tucked into his bag but not quite hidden enough."
Cole looked at me then. Something shifted in his expression — not quite a surprise, but
