Page 2 of Stalked By Raiden

Most importantly, it has a basement. A large one. This neighborhood is one of the roughest in Atlanta. Most people with any sense avoid it. For what I have planned, I prefer it that way.

Across the street is the neighborhood elementary school. Kids walk through these streets every day surrounded by drug dealers, gang members, and predators.

Meanwhile, judges let criminals walk free because of technicalities. Prosecutors cut deals. Police departments bury evidence. The system is broken.

As an ADA, I’ve spent those years trying to fix it from the inside. All it has done is make me hate it.

⁎⁎⁎

A motorcycle rumbles to a stop beside the curb, close to where I stand. River pulls off his helmet and frowns at me.

“You sounded like hell on the phone.”

“I’ve had better days.”

“No shit.” His gaze sweeps over the abandoned building. “Why here?”

I toss him a ring of keys, and he catches them one-handed. “What are these?”

“I own the place.”

His eyebrows climb. “You bought a condemned building?”

“I bought an opportunity.”

River shifts his gaze from the building to me. “I’ve known you twelve years, Raid. That look on your face usually ends with someone regretting their life choices,” he says pointedly.

“It should.”

He folds his arms. “So, talk.”

I look across the street again. A little girl chases bubbles while her teacher laughs from the playground gate.

“They go to school in the middle of a war zone.”

River follows my gaze. “I know.”

“No…” I shake my head. “You know because you’re a cop, Detective Rainiere.”

He snorts. “Suspended detective.”

“Exactly.”

His expression darkens. Neither of us mentions why. He’d exposed corruption inside the department. The department had repaid him with unpaid leave and a disciplinary hearing. Justice. Same disease, but different building. I turn back to the empty structure.

“I’ve spent my whole career trying to beat criminals inside a courtroom,” I say after a few seconds of silence.

“And?” River prompts.

“I’m done asking permission.”

River studies me for a long moment. “What are you saying?”

“I’m opening a tattoo shop.”

He blinks. “…Come again?”

“And you’re quitting the force.”