Chapter 1

The Underground lived up to its name, a concrete basement smelling of wet pavement and expensive nicotine. Bass from the overhead speakers thrummed through the floorboards, vibrating in Evelyn’s teeth. It was the exact same frequency as the night she died.

She sat in the velvet booth, the fabric worn and smelling of spilled gin. Across from her, Jax leaned back, his leather jacket creaking. He looked every bit the rebel—hair artfully disheveled, eyes bright with a predatory spark that she had once mistaken for passion. To the rest of the world, he was a high-stakes player; to her, he was a ghost she had come to exorcise.

"You’re quiet tonight, Evie," Jax said, his voice a low, gravelly hum. He flashed that crooked grin, the one that used to make her feel like the only girl in the room. Now, it just made her skin crawl. "New look, new attitude. I like the edge on you."

Evelyn didn’t smile. She couldn’t. Her focus was entirely on the two glasses of bourbon resting on the scarred mahogany table. Her fingers were steady as she pushed the left glass toward him. The ice clinked—a tiny, crystalline death knell.

"I thought we could toast to new beginnings," she said. Her voice was thin, honed like a razor.

Jax picked up the glass, swirling the amber liquid. He watched the legs of the alcohol slide down the side of the crystal. "New beginnings. I’ve always been a fan of those. Though, usually, people want to forget the past, don't they?"

"Some things shouldn't be forgotten," Evelyn replied. She took a sip from her own glass, the burn of the whiskey grounding her. She waited for him to drink. She had spent months planning this—tracking his movements, mirroring the exact sequence of events from her first life. In thirty minutes, the toxin would stop his heart, just as it had stopped hers.

Jax didn't drink. He held the glass near his lips, his gaze fixed on her with an intensity that felt like a physical weight.

"You know," Jax began, his tone conversational, "I once knew a girl. Sweet, sheltered. She thought she could change a man like me. When she realized she couldn't, she got... imaginative. She thought she was the hunter."

Evelyn felt a cold prickle of dread at the base of her neck. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because she had this look in her eyes," he whispered, leaning over the table. The shadows of the booth carved deep hollows into his face. "The same look you have now. That 'rebirth' glow. It’s adorable, really. The idea that you get a do-over."

Evelyn tried to pull back, but her muscles felt strangely heavy. A dull numbness started in her fingertips and surged upward. She looked down at her glass.

"The commotion at the bar three minutes ago?" Jax chuckled, a dark, melodic sound. "You shouldn't have looked away, Evie. A player never misses a sleight of hand. Especially not when he's seen the play before."

Panic flared in her chest, but her lungs felt like they were filling with lead. She tried to scream, to knock the table over, but her arm merely slid uselessly across the wood.

Jax stood up and walked around to her side of the booth. He sat down next to her, sliding an arm around her sagging shoulders in a mockery of an embrace. He leaned in, his breath warm against her ear.

"Did you really think you were the only one who came back?" he whispered, his voice dripping with twisted affection. "This is the fourth time we've done this, Evelyn. You try a different poison, a different blade, a different city. And every single time, I'm waiting. You aren't here for revenge, darling. You're my favorite loop."

Evelyn’s vision began to grey at the edges. The room spun, the neon lights of the bar blurring into long, jagged streaks of red. She realized then that her "gift" of rebirth was actually her cage.

Jax tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as her head slumped against his shoulder. "Don't worry," he murmured as he signaled the back-exit bouncer. "We’ll try again in the next one. Maybe you'll get closer next time."

Darkness swallowed her whole, punctuated only by the rhythmic, terrifying sound of his laughter.