Chapter 21 The Loop

• Knox’s boots hit the curb harder than they should when he steps out into the cold night. The street’s mostly dead — just old neon buzzing above the bar Talia always picks when she wants him soft and stupid.
• She texted Meet me — nothing else. She never has to say more.
• Inside it’s warm and stale — cheap whiskey bite at the back of his throat before he even sits down. She’s already waiting, perched on a cracked vinyl booth like she owns it, like she owns him.