Claire Eastwood

Hyenas, ugly as they are, are my spirit animals. The rest are too generic, too fucking puny, and in line with the law of the wild to mess with big and bad.

But not hyenas, they fight with lions, Cheat the cheetahs, and rumble with the elephants just to get what they want. And they get it. There's no room for fear among their ranks, only food and loyalty. Screw everything else.

I send the last message to the Redhead— Jojo Dukes, is it?— of the Gone Girls crew and remove the battery from the burner phone. My time with Vongov taught me a bit about tech and tracking.

The screen of my phone lights with colorful videos as I scroll through their I*******m, The Gone Girls?

I snort.

The name sounds like a sorry attempt at Charlie's Angels brought on by the traumatic plot holes of the main characters.

Just who the hell do they think they are?

Coming to my town, stealing my spotlight, trying to steal my boyfriend, and Taking my man.

Yes, Jeremy Vongov is still my man. We've been togethe