Happy release, Vicious Consequences!

“This is Jake Anders. Don’t bother leaving a message because the likelihood I call you back is slim to none.”

Beeeeeeeep.

“So what I’m hearing is there’s a chance. The actual definition of slim is very small, meaning it is possible.” She paused after saying the same thing every time she got his voicemail.

In the past month, it was every single time.

“If you don’t want people to think there is a slim chance, you should change your voicemail. And what you have now is rude and uncalled for.”

Ugh.

She was letting her irritation and anger shine through.

“I would like to retract that last sentence. Please strike it from the record. It is your choice how you manage your voicemail.”

She held in a short laugh, but felt better adding a bit of humor only he would understand. A little inside joke between the two of them. He’d dated a lawyer one time. It lasted all of two months, and she had way too much fun teasing him about it, especially when everyone warned him not to date a lawyer.

“Did you know that beavers are the second-largest living rodents, after the capybaras, and they can weigh up to one hundred and ten pounds?”

Commence awkwardness by throwing out a random fact—her specialty.

“Well, let’s chat later. Call me.”

She ended the message and set her phone on the counter.

“What the hell is a capybaras?”

Jo turned around from the island counter to see her roommate, Ivy.

Ivy waved her hand frivolously in the air, shaking her head. “I take it back. I don’t want to know. You’ll give me a full history of the dumb animal, and I don’t care.”

At least she didn’t think she’d made up the animal. Because some people thought half the things she said were fabricated. Why would she lie? It made no sense.

“How is Detective Anders?”

Jo frowned.

“Oh, he didn’t answer. Again. Why do you keep trying with that man?”

“Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “I bet if I asked you, you’d know the exact number of days it took to build.”

“Actually—”

“Nope. I don’t care.” Ivy wrapped an arm around her, squeezing. “But I care about you. Stop calling him. Stop doing this to yourself.”

“He’s grieving. I won’t stop being there for someone in a time of need.”

“Jo, you’re grieving too.”

Yes, well, everyone grieved in different ways. She poured herself into her work, and Jake did the exact opposite. He removed himself from the world. From life itself.

Ivy kissed her on the cheek, then rounded the counter. “Don’t wait up for me tonight. I have a hot date.”

“Okay.” She giggled because she never waited up for her roommate. Because she always had a hot date.

“You know what you need,” Ivy said, pointing a finger at her with the milk jug in her other hand. “You need to get laid. It would relax you and de-stress you.” She bobbed her head up and down. “And we both know it’s been way too long.”

Whereas her friend got laid too much. She wouldn’t call Ivy loose—ever—but she wasn’t cautious with who she gave herself to. Jo was much more cautious.

So much more.

Maybe too cautious.

But she’d never done well with dating. Or men. Or flirting. She was hopeless. They both knew it.

“I know a guy—”

“Did you know that speed dating was invented by Rabbi Yaacov Deyo in the 1990s. He wanted to make it easier for single Jewish people in Los Angeles to meet each other.”

“Fine. I hear you. You don’t want me to set you up with this cute guy I work with.” Ivy drank her glass of milk, a wicked smile on her face after finishing it. “I could find a speed dating night for us. I would totally do it with you. If that’s what you’re trying to tell me.”

Well, that random fact blew up in her face.

“On that note,” Jo said, standing up, “I have to get to work. You have fun on your date and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Ivy hollered at her back. “That’s everything. You’re Mrs. I-hate-fun!”

Jo shut the door, breathing out a long breath. She loved her roommate to pieces, but she could be a handful at times. Honestly, Ivy was one of the rare few who could put up with her odd tendencies and weird behavior.

She couldn’t help herself. When she got nervous or uncomfortable, she spouted facts. All kinds of facts. Random ones. Useless ones. Interesting ones. Most people found her odd, which created problems making friends. When she moved to New York two years ago, she’d moved in with a complete stranger—Ivy—to save money on rent. It had been touch and go at first, but they’d looked past each other’s faults—because they both had them—and became more than roommates. They were friends. Jo hated admitting it, but Ivy was about the only friend she had in New York. Her co-workers didn’t count. She might go out for a drink or two with them on occasion, but they didn’t ask her to join them often. Even at work, she was the odd one out.

But she was used to it. All her life she’d been the oddball, the weird one. It was nothing new and she couldn’t change who she was. Nor did she want to. If people couldn’t like her for her, they weren’t worth her time. Something her brother had told her all the time.

She shook loose any thoughts of her brother and headed for work.

The precinct was bustling with activity when she arrived. As usual. She waved and smiled on her way to her desk, though she received grunts and half-hearted grins in return.

No big deal.

Just because people couldn’t return a kindness when receiving one didn’t mean she would stop doing it herself. She worked hard on putting herself out there more. On making the first move, making the first greeting. It wasn’t easy. Some days she wanted to glower and glare as much as the rest of them.

Especially in the last two months.

But if she didn’t maintain a sunny disposition, she’d fall down the same rabbit hole Jake had fallen in. Then who would save them? She was here to pull him out. To save them both. Sort of. It was kind of difficult to be there for him when she lived in New York and he resided in Minnesota.

“Yo, Jo. Hit me with a fact.”

She looked up from her desk to Sterling, one of the detectives in her division—violent crimes—staring at her with anticipation from across the room. Sometimes, people would request this of her—a random fact. It didn’t always happen and she hadn’t quite figured out if they were making fun of her or not. Or if they enjoyed the weird things she knew.

“Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia is the fear of long words.” Then she returned her focus to the case files on her desk.

She heard snickers from across the room.

That was why she could never figure out if they were teasing her or not. The laughter that always accompanied after she word-vomited facts without hesitating. Why not spread her knowledge? One of these days, they would appreciate her wide variety of information.

“Damn. I’m impressed.”

Jo looked up to see Detective Tate Powell standing next to her desk.

“You even pronounced that long ass word without jumbling it up once.”

Well, she’d never admit it, but she had practiced saying it when she came across it. When one spouts facts all the time, one needs to say it clearly and without incident.

“What’s the fear of working with idiots?” Tate drawled.

Jo chuckled. Most people didn’t like Tate, considering him too brash and insensitive. Maybe she liked him because he didn’t pull any punches. He didn’t tell lies or pretend to be someone he wasn’t. She found him refreshing, when everyone else seemed to hide who they were.

And most importantly, he didn’t keep his distance from her. He didn’t think she was odd.

“I’m afraid there is no actual phobia of that.”

“That’s too bad because if I had a phobia, it would be that. I’m surrounded by them.” He flashed her a genuine smile. “Have a great day, Jo.”

Then he was walking away and she didn’t have time to thank him for lifting her spirits.

Because, yes. She was going to have a great day.

* * *

The door swooshed behind them, then slammed with a clang. It made him jump, glancing behind him.

Then he was jolted from the sharp voice next to him.

“You’re a man-child.”

“Seriously?”

“An absolute man-child.”

Jason’s sister, Junelle, stormed off down the sidewalk, and he was forced to rush after her. “Can you slow down please?”

Junelle stopped and turned toward him. Her disapproval was easy to read. Pinched brows, pressed lips, arms crossed. “You can find your own way home.”

“Don’t I get a chance to explain?”

“I don’t want to hear why you got arrested. It shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Grow up, Jason! I won’t bail you out next time.”

Her pace resumed. He had to walk at a clipped pace to keep up with her. Which was crazy because she had shorter legs than he did. He didn’t like the speed at which she walked. It made it harder for him to watch his surroundings. To make sure no one jumped out at him again. He struggled maintaining her momentum while also keeping his eyes peeled at every corner and person they passed.

“I was defending a woman’s honor, thank you very much.”

“Don’t care.”

“The guy was—”

Junelle stopped in her tracks. “Violence isn’t the answer. You can defend a woman’s honor without using your fists. One of these times—maybe it’ll be this time—the charges are going to stick. You could find yourself sitting in prison. Is that what you want?”

Of course not. It had to be a rhetorical question.

She released a heavy sigh, her disappointment hitting him in the face like a rough slap. “I love you, Jason. I love that you stick up for women who need it. More men need to do so. But I hate that you put yourself in these kinds of positions. I asked Officer Benson what happened and he said the guy had a knife. A knife.” Her words choked at the end.

Jason couldn’t handle the torture in her eyes and tore his gaze away to the pavement. The guy had produced a knife. He understood the agony in that simple sentence. Too much.

After Jason shoved the guy when he had grabbed the woman’s arm, the dude swung at him. Of course, Jason swung back, hitting him square in the face and knocking him on his ass. When the guy got up from the ground, a pocketknife appeared out of nowhere. Jason hated admitting he froze. If the woman’s boyfriend hadn’t returned from the restroom at that exact time, the guy would’ve stabbed him. Would’ve brought him down without an inch of resistance. But the boyfriend had and stepped in, relieving the dude of the knife. Somehow, all three of them had been arrested for fighting when it should’ve been the original asshole who started it all by putting his hands on a woman he had no right to.

“I can’t do this with you right now. Go home.”

He didn’t look up for several seconds, and by the time he did, his sister had disappeared around the corner.

She was right. Violence wasn’t the answer. He had gotten lucky.

He rubbed his left side, trying to erase the nightmares from so long ago. Yet he relived them so often, it felt like it had happened yesterday.

Seeing the flash of the knife…

The evil in the guy’s eyes…

He jumped, darting his gaze every which way. The sidewalk was empty except for him. A brick wall next to him. He was safe. No one could attack him.

He could’ve been injured last night and it would’ve been his own fault. It was one thing to help a woman in need. It was another whole thing to freeze up in the middle of the attack.

Jason made his way home and took a shower as soon as he walked through the door. Who knew what kind of disgusting germs were crawling all over him. A cell wasn’t the cleanest of places, and it wasn’t exactly the Ritz either, so it was no surprise he’d had a rough night of sleeping to boot. 

Despite feeling dead on his feet, he resisted the urge to crawl into bed and instead grabbed a bite to eat. By the time he’d had enough to get him through the next few hours, he called his foreman, Terry. They chatted for a bit, with Terry giving him updates, and then ended the call.

Jason never worried when he wasn’t around because Terry handled everything with ease. In the past year since he’d been injured, Terry had to step up to the plate with his construction business. There were some days he struggled even getting out of bed. Lack of sleep producing headaches that incapacitated him. Of course, he never told his sister about them, or his parents. He didn’t want everyone worrying about him.

He’d get a handle on everything soon. He had to. Letting the asshole win would never happen. He’d fought death, and he’d fight this battle too.

There was no reason for him to go in today. He had a bunch of paperwork to catch up on. While he loved getting his hands dirty and working with his crew, he didn’t have to as the owner of the company. That’s what Terry was for.

He opened his computer and got down to work. The day dragged on, his mind wandering more than it should’ve. And not about what happened last night at the bar either. He should’ve never gone out in the first place, but a buddy of his had dragged him out, and then shit happened. He wasn’t going to dwell on it.

No, his mind kept wandering back to the day over a year ago, walking with his sister and then feeling the searing pain in his side. Then nothing but darkness. For weeks. He’d been stabbed five times, nearly died, was in the ICU in a coma for weeks, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop his brain from reliving it. At the most inopportune times too.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, his brain was fried from trying to concentrate and failing. He needed to get out of his apartment. Maybe being on site would help. He should’ve gone into work today to get his mind off things best forgotten.

He packed up his laptop and left for work. They had their moveable offices set up at the current construction site they were working on. Renovating an old office building into apartments. It was a big contract they landed, and he needed everything to go smoothly. The client was difficult on occasion, changing things at the last minute. Or wanting him to order supplies from companies he’d never used before. He understood about cutting costs when applicable, but it wasn’t always the safest bet.

When he got to the site, the place was deserted. No surprise there. Everyone clocked out at five. He was a firm believer that work was not everything. He didn’t expect his employees to work overtime, unless absolutely necessary. His company paid well, had good benefits, ample vacation time, and he treated them with respect. It helped him have a low turnover rate and more loyal employees. Not even Terry was in the office when he stepped inside.

Of course, his mind wandered again, even in the office, so he gave up trying to work on his computer. He’d been holed up in the office the past week trying to catch up on paperwork. Maybe it was time he took a break and used manual labor to clear his mind.

He packed up his laptop and locked it in his truck, then decided he’d take a look around the building, see the progress they were making. Deciding to start at the top and work his way down, he climbed the stairs to the tenth floor. This wasn’t one of the larger buildings in the neighborhood. He appreciated that sentiment as his legs got a workout. Sure, he could’ve taken the elevator, but that would’ve defeated the purpose of what he was trying to do—clear his mind with strenuous activity. He wasn’t going to do any physical labor tonight. It wasn’t wise to do that alone and with no one knowing he was here, not smart at all. But the jaunt up the flight of stairs and walking around the building would help him somewhat. He’d done this a few times and it helped.

When he reached the eighth floor, he paused.

What was that sound?

No one should be here.

He wasn’t exactly sure what he heard, but he knew he shouldn’t have heard anything.

Flinging open the stairwell door, he stepped into the hallway. Equipment lined both sides of the walls. He had to walk carefully, stepping around stuff.

His feet froze when he heard another sound. Muffled crying?

“Hello?”

A low cry rented the air followed by a scream. Then a shadow darted out a doorway at the end of the hallway. Jason made a mad dash for the individual.

Because whoever they were, he knew they weren’t one of his employees.

Footsteps rattled and echoed down the stairwell as he gave chase. By the time he made it back down to the main level, he was nearly out of breath, and whoever had fled was out of his sight.

Damn it!

Jason made his way back up the stairs to see what the person had been doing. He froze in the doorway of the room the person had fled.

In the corner of what would be a living room when it was completed lay a woman, huddled in the corner, crying. Her clothes were torn and she had marks all over her body.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

“Shit. You’re okay now. I’m calling the police.”

He pulled his phone out, his fingers hovering over the screen, when another voice from behind him made him shiver.

“Hands up where I can see them. You’re under arrest.”

Holy hell.

His sister was going to kill him. And this time, it wasn’t even his fault.

(Copyright © 2026 Amanda Siegrist)

* * *

To keep reading, get your copy from one of these retailers:

AS Books & Crafts | Amazon | Apple Books | Google Play | Kobo | Nook | Smashwords