“Nothing?” My voice ripped out of me. “You undersold her home. Still, that house alone got youninetygrand.” Rage bubbled hot in my throat. “And her father’s remodeling business? Another thirty.” Matt’s eyes widened. I sneered. “I’ve done my homework.” I paused. “I’m giving you an out—return what you owe her.”
I’d sue them in a heartbeat if it were me. But Nina didn’t live for revenge and lawsuits. I had a feeling she’d scrape together whatever peace she could and just move on. She’d gotten herself used to accepting. That’s why I’d do this for her.
Matt’s eyes narrowed. “This is blackmail.”
I squared up, stepped into him, and pushed him with my chest. “That’s the card you want to play? Police? Let’s go.”
Sarah’s voice wavered, her hands up. “Lincoln, sweetie… she doesn’t know. Drawing attention to it—it would only make things harder.”
I barked out a laugh, bitter as bile. “Harder for who?”
Matt’s mouth twisted into something sharp, cruel. “For your best friend, for sure.”
My chest caved for a beat. Vinny. My anger roared back double. If he knew—if he’d been part of this—it didn’t make a difference. I’d do whatever I needed to look out for Nina.
“That’s right,” Matt said, eyes narrowing further. “You don’t know half of it. Now get the hell out.”
He tried to shove me toward the door, but he was weak and bounced off me. I stepped out by choice, and he yelled, “Don’t bother coming back.”
Fists clenched in my pockets, I stood by their leaning mailbox, taking a second to breath. My chest heaved, every exhale thrummed with rage.
I stared at their driveway, and she was there. Denim overalls cut mid-thigh, hair dark as my regret pulled into a ponytail, headphones around her neck leaking “Songbird” into the summer night. She’d smiled once when she caught me watching her, just for a second. My chest split remembering it. The memory of her sorrow tempered my rage, but it only heightened when I remembered how she’d told me no. Bile crawled up my throat at how I’d made her pay.
I couldn’t undo what I’d done to her. Couldn’t take her pain back. That was wasted breath. But I could make her life different now. Better. Even if she never forgave me. Even if she never looked at me again. Nina had no idea she’d been robbed blind by the people who were supposed to protect her.
The early spring wind cut sharp across my face. I pulled in a breath even though it scratched at my throat. And on my mother’s memory, I swore I’d make it better.
By the timeI got to Lalo’s, the place was packed. Candlelight flickered across the painted tendrils on the walls, and the wood beams above formed a lattice of shadows, dropping like stalactites. Carmen was on the edge of a large group of people. I zigzagged around, making my way to the table. Carmen made people move so I could sit next to her as she introducedeveryone. I wasn’t in the mood to play nice with a bunch of strangers. Sadly, for me, they were in the mood.
“Hi!” A woman with curly brown hair, just above her shoulders, extended her hand. Her eyes were a dark chocolate, exact same shade as Carmen’s. “Martina,” she said. “How do you know Carmen?”
“We work together.”
I supposed that made five siblings. I turned to Carmen, and that’s when I saw them.Atthe DJ booth. Wearing her own headphones, Nina was sliding dials and tapping buttons. Diego’s hand rested over hers, guiding her through the settings. He had lowered his head just enough that his lips were brushing her ear. She laughed, hair cascading with the movement of her shoulders. He smirked at her and adjusted his stupid-looking man bun. They were so cozy together. When I finally tore my eyes away, Carmen was grinning.
“Lincoln,” she tutted, “don’t ignore my sister.”
I inclined my head at Martina. Satisfied, Martina turned and joined the group in conversation. Scattered among the eclectic group, two more women shared Carmen’s big brown eyes, shape of nose, line of features. Unmistakably sisters. I guessed there were five Camacho siblings.
“Where were you?” Carmen asked.
I clenched my jaw. My eyes wandered back to the scene in front of me—Nina and Diego dancing awfully close. His hands dug in her hips as his moved with the beat of the bass.
“You couldn’t stay away, could you?” Carmen smacked my shoulder, dragging my eyes away fromthem. “I told you it was a bad idea. Now we’re going to need something locked tight rather than just a smoking gun.”
“We already have both, and the longer we wait, the longer Nina’s struggling when she doesn’t need to.”
Carmen exhaled. A guy my age, light-brown hair, shirt too small for his muscular chest, cracked a joke at Carmen to get her attention. His arm was slung over a woman with long chestnut hair, purple strands peeking through. He had a pompous, teasing grin on his lips. If he had dimples, I’d be staring at a mirror.
“Fuck off, Daray,” Carmen said without blinking. “Why don’t you turn all that charm to your fucking date? See if you can keep her attention for five minutes?” Carmen tilted her head almost imperceptibly at the woman under his arm.
While Daray talked to Carmen, the woman’s body angled toward a leaner, taller guy with dark hair. His eyes, deep brown, stayed locked on her with a focus so fierce you’d think she was his center of gravity. Maybe I looked at Nina the same way. Maybe all it took was the right person to turn you into an obsessed idiot.
Daray squeezed her shoulder once, bringing her attention back. He smiled at her, then pulled her in for a kiss that looked more like a show of ownership than affection.
The tall guy watched them until Daray angled his head and winked at him. Veins protruded on the guy’s neck, and he curled hands into fists, unable to look away.
“Eric,” Martina said, but he didn’t budge, fixated on a kiss that was dangling on the edge of inappropriate. “Eric,” she repeated, sharper this time. His gaze dragged reluctantly from the kiss toward Martina. “Why don’t you get me and Carmen a drink?”
