Angel:Miguel knows something. Family dinner was an interrogation.
He hurt you?
Angel:Not physically. Just... he knows I'm hiding something.
Angel:Someone.
You're mine. Eventually he'll know that too.
Angel:I'm not yours.
You are. You just don't know it yet.
Angel:Pretty sure I'd notice being yours.
You will. Soon.
Joker drops into the chair across from me. "That was fucking entertaining. Candy trying to baby-trap you? Ghost's gonna lose his shit."
"Not my problem."
"Everything's everyone's problem here, brother." He lights a cigarette, studying me. "Speaking of problems, you find that Ghost Clinic yet? Ghost wants it under protection before another club claims it."
My blood chills. "Still looking into it."
"Well, look faster. He found the van."
"What?"
"White van, says 'Santos Electric' on the side."
"That's just magnetic signs," Joker adds, blowing smoke. "Saw her switching them once in a parking lot. 'Mobile Mercy Unit' painted underneath. Smart as fuck—nobody questions an electrician's van parked anywhere. Hiding in plain sight."
Santos Electric. Magnetic covers. My mind races. My angel mentioned the van, mentioned helping people, mentioneddiscretion. The dots are connecting like a constellation I don't want to see.
"You okay?" Joker asks. "You look like you're having a stroke."
"Fine. Just thinking."
He leaves, and I immediately text Dylan.
How's everything?
Dylan:Update on the Jessica situation
?
Dylan:Chemical pregnancy. Those three tests were right, but... you know. Body handled it. She's okay. We're okay. But fuck, that was scary.
Christ. The kid's dealing with real loss disguised as relief. That's the worst kind—the grief you're not supposed to feel for something that barely existed.
You need to talk?
Dylan:Nah. Just... we're being more careful now. Like, Fort Knox careful.
Good. Learn from close calls.
Dylan:Speaking of, how's your mystery woman?
