Except she's not. The vomiting is too performed. The hand on her stomach too theatrical. I've seen enough real pregnancy scares today to know the difference. She's faking, trying to lock down Ghost, secure her position. Dangerous game for a dangerous woman.
"Congratulations," I say flatly.
"Don't tell Ghost yet. I want to surprise him."
She leaves, and I'm left with another secret, another lie, another ticking bomb in an already explosive situation.
My phone buzzes.
Angel:Scared
Me too
Angel:Good scared or bad scared?
Both
Angel:Same
Angel:Diablo?
Yeah, angel?
Angel:What if this ruins everything?
I look at my hands. SINS and RAGE. Truth in advertising. Everything I touch turns to ash anyway.
What if it doesn't?
She doesn't respond, but she doesn't need to. We both know this is a terrible idea. We both know her brother would kill me if he knew who I was, what I am, what I've done. We both know the clubs would go to war over less than this.
We're going to do it anyway.
Twenty-four hours until I meet my angel at Doc's Diner, where everything either begins or ends. No middle ground in our world—just love or war, salvation or destruction.
Her brother's shadow looms over it all like a diagnosis neither of us wants to acknowledge: Terminal, with complications of gunfire.
Chapter eleven
Digital Courage
Lena
Agreeing to meet him was insane. I said yes anyway.
It's been a week since he first suggested meeting. A week of me canceling twice—once because Miguel was suspicious, once because I had a full panic attack in the van thinking about Carlos's funeral. A week of Bad Decision being patient in a way that makes my ovaries conspiratorial. "Tuesday," I finally texted at 3 AM, like my insomnia was making executive decisions. "For real this time."
Now it's Tuesday afternoon, and I'm hiding in the hospital break room, negotiating the terms of my potential murder via text message. My phone screen shows our conversation, and everymessage feels like signing my own death certificate with a glitter pen.
Bad Decision:Doc’s Diner Midnight tomorrow.
Different place. Rosita's on Central.
Bad Decision:You don't trust me.
I don't know you. There's a difference.
Bad Decision:Fair. Rosita's then.
