Katie stared at the two black trash bags sitting in front of her apartment door. Her heart sank. Not again. She'd been evicted before, but not in the middle of a Colorado winter. Even without paying her gas bill she had been warmer than what the streets could offer her. With a resolute step, Katie approached the apartment manager's door further down the hall. At the last second, she hesitated, then gave two short raps.

"Come in," a muffled voice called.

Katie pushed the door open and found Scarlett in the living room, bent over in the position of Downward Dog. A dangerously thin woman demonstrated the yoga pose on the TV behind her. Scarlett glanced at Katie, her brows crinkling, as if she had been expecting someone else. "Oh. It's you." She turned back to her exercise video.

Anger surged through Katie. The woman was kicking her out of her home in the middle of December and she had the audacity to continue on as if Katie didn't matter. "What happened to the rest of my stuff, Scarlett?" she demanded.

Scarlett transitioned to Warrior One. "You're two months behind in your rent. I sold what I could to help recover my costs, which you agreed to when you signed the lease." She stood and faced Katie. Sweat beaded Scarlett's brow. "Honestly, I didn't have much to work with. Not a single piece of furniture—not even a bed."

"I was only gone for the weekend. You could have waited and at least given me some warning. Besides, I told you, I have some money coming in."

"That's what you say every month. I can't afford to have an apartment occupied by someone who isn't paying."

The hostile approach wasn't working. Scarlett was used to dealing with bottom dwellers like Katie; she needed to approach the manager from a different angle.

Katie sighed and let her shoulders sag. She tucked her blond hair behind her ears. "I'm sorry, Scarlett. You're right. It's not your fault that I couldn't come up with the money." She collapsed onto a chair and mustered up a few tears. "It's just that it will be Christmas in two weeks, and if you could just wait until the new year—"

Scarlett snorted. "Don't try that on me." She stooped until her face was level with Katie's. Her expression was void of compassion and only held contempt. "Now get out or I'm calling the cops."

Katie shot to her feet so fast, Scarlett tripped backwards. She glanced at Katie, apprehensive, and pulled out a gun that had been concealed under the coffee table. Katie immediately retreated until she reached the front door. "I didn't mean any harm. I'm leaving." She turned and bolted back down the hallway to her apartment.

The two trash bags were so light, they had to contain mostly clothes. Katie dropped the bags next to her car, her hands still shaking from the encounter with Scarlett. She had learned to put on a good show, but if anyone knew how terrified of confrontation she was, they would eat her alive. Katie unlocked her car, but then glanced at the trash bags. Dread replaced her anger and she ripped one of the bags open. "Please say you didn't take it," she mumbled. She fished around in the sea of clothing until her hand brushed paper. She pulled out a ratty book and held it to her chest. Anna Karenina. It was the only book she had ever loved—her comfort, even on nights that included sleeping on a park bench.

Katie placed the book on the passenger seat and tossed the bags into the back of the car. Other than the book, the car was the only true possession she had in the world—the only thing she hadn't been able to give up. She had sold her soul rather than give up that car. It was her means of escape. When things got too hot, too rough, she left. She started over again. Until Colorado. Katie was stuck here, and it was time to go make another deal with the devil.

The car chugged to life and she made her way to the last place she'd thought she'd ever go—voluntarily, that is. The police station rolled into view and Katie parked a couple of streets down. She stared at it, hands gripping the steering wheel. After a few minutes she took out her burner phone and dialed the forbidden number. It was more of a 'don't call me, I'll call you' type of relationship. That was the only reason he'd given her the phone in the first place. But she didn't have a choice.

The phone rang so many times that Katie almost gave up. He picked up on the tenth ring.

"What do you think you're doing?" his gruff voice growled. His voice echoed, as if he were in a stairwell.

"I'm sorry," Katie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "It's an emergency. I got evicted and have no place to go."

A pause.

"So?"

Katie's breath hitched. "That means I'm on the street, Teddy. I can't do your dirty work if I freeze to death out here."

"You're resourceful. You'll figure something out."

The same anger that had reared with Scarlett pulsed in her chest. "Did you hear me? I got nothin'. My apartment manager sold all my stuff. I'm not working for you anymore if you won't help me."

As soon as the words left her mouth, Katie clamped her lips shut. Stupid. She wished she could take it all back, tell him that she didn't mean it.

The damage was already done.

"We both know what will happen if you stop working for me," Teddy said. His voice was eerily calm, and it was more chilling than if he had screamed at her. "I'll text you when I need you next. In the meantime, don't get yourself killed."

The line went dead.