If you want to tack on the additional people who have disappeared: Reeve is MIA, and Torin and I aren’t shit but a bunch of problems and unresolved trauma.
Don’t get me started on Ozzy.
So, while Cairo probably would’ve been my last choice, I can’t deny he’s been at my every beck and call.
“I’m starting to lose it,” I mutter honestly, feeling the heaviness on my chest begin to press harder against my lungs. “I don’t—” I’m pulled into Cairo’s body in the next second before both of his arms wrap around me.
One around my waist.
The other firmly tightened around my spine.
He looks at me as though he’s studying every thought processing through my mind. He’d be here a while. Even I’m having a hard time processing everything.
“You’re not alone,” he tells me, a bit of steel laced in his tone. “You have me. You have Oz. You have Tor?—”
“No,” I cut in tersely. “He’s off hisshitagain.”
Cairo doesn’t flinch or show any signs of surprise. He’s cool, collected, and calm. “We both know it would’ve ended like this. It doesn’t matter what you and Wallace planned; Torin was always going to get to Emilio first.”
My face skews. “You let it happen?” He doesn’t say a damn thing to the contrary, but I don’t give him time to. “Ramsey is going to?—”
“Not your problem,” he advises simply. “Yours is De Leon, remember?”
I’d never forget that.
Regardless, Muncy just arrested me, and Emilio got me out. Now, we have the task of keeping the sheriff off our ass.
“Is he dead?”
Cairo bows his head, and I don’t know what comes over me, but tears swell up in my eyes over the confirmation.
I don’t like Emilio.
I never did.
However, death has been close by lately, and it leaves me with nothing but dread.
“Tell me what you need,” he coaxes softly, reaching up to cup the side of my face. “What does the Queen of South Shore need?”
My head immediately rocks back and forth. “I’m not?—”
“What do you need?” Cairo asks me again, running his index finger underneath my chin. “Anything you want, Little T. It’s yours.”
I blink, bringing this man into reality because he’s never so generous as to offer me something as great as all this. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I’ve always been fuckin’ nice to you,” he replies simply. “You just haven’t been paying attention.”
He’s never hurt me.
He’s bossy as fuck, but Cairo has never pummeled me with the full power of his Forsaken fucks.
“I want a race night,” I confide. “A big one. I want all the stops. All the cars. I want everything.”
“When?”
“Friday night.”
“In three days.” I heave my shoulders dismissively because he asked me what I wanted, and I told him. “I’ll get the word out.”
