JEREMIAH WAS already inside the warehouse when Lily came.
He leaned against a concrete pillar, arms crossed, a shadow in the dim light. His jacket hung open, and revealed the black shirt beneath that was torn at the shoulder. A sliver of bruised skin peeked through, darkened from last night’s fight. He looked rougher today. More dangerous. Less controlled.
His eyes lifted when he heard the door close behind her.
“You follow instructions terribly,” he said. His tone stayed flat, but there was a flicker of something else in his face. Something he didn’t bother hiding.
Lily paused several feet away from him. “You told Ronan you needed to talk to me,” she answered. “So talk.”
Jeremiah exhaled slowly, like he regretted asking for this conversation. His fingers flexed once before he pushed
