I raised my gaze and there she was. Juana Esteban. The girl who’d stolen the heart of fifteen-year-old me and made my life ever since a fucking misery.
God, I loved her.
Hated the fear in her eyes as she sidestepped Locke and came to me.
The grief.
I lifted an arm to embrace her, closing my eyes again to the tiny swell of her belly, Spanish forming on my tongue like I spoke it every day. “What happened, Ju? What did he do?”
“Raul,” she whispered. “They found out about us and they killed him. They were going to get a doctor—I couldn’t—Ican’t—so I took Liliana and ran. I’m so sorry. Will your people kill you now?”
Unlikely, but the penalty for a brotherhood built on lies was worse.
I kissed Juana’s temple and steeled myself.
Then I faced them, my brothers. Decoy first, then Nash.
Embry.
Embry.He stepped into my eyeline, like he was fucking drunk. Still half asleep, caught in that horrible place where he didn’t quite believe he was awake.Confusion lingered in his gaze, but it was fading fast. Realisation crept in. He took the pieces of my shattered life and built his own picture, and my battered heart broke in two. “I—”
He shook his head. “Don’t.”
The venom in his voice, the anger, shattered the stunned silence that had taken hold of the others. Locke and Folk appeared in my peripheral. Rubi too. And Nash stepped forward, his measured calm belied only by the faint tremor in his hand as he pointed to the chapel. “Take them inside. We’ll follow you.”
When I didn’t move, he inched closer. “Now, brother.”
An order, not a request. Lili was too big and too old to be carried, but I picked her up anyway, took Juana’s hand, and herded them to the chapel, white noise buzzing in my head, my pulse so slow with dread I couldn’t fathom how I was fucking alive.
Inside, it was dark, blinds drawn. Saint had always despised overhead lights, but since he’d got hurt, he’d hated them enough to take the bulb from each one and hide them.
I flicked on a lamp. The warm glow he preferred illuminated my daughter’s face. I set her on the ancient table and ran my gaze over every inch of her. “You’re not hurt?”
“No, Papá. What happened to your face?”
“A fight. I won.”
It was the truth, and no matter the web of deceit we’d lived to get to this point, I always gave her that.
Juana too. Most days, it was all we had. I watched her fold into a chair—Rubi’s—and rub the tiny bump beneath her clothes. “The young one behind you. Was that Embry?”
Pain flared in my chest. I nodded. “That’s him.”
“You really never told him?”
“Nope.”
“Mateo.”
“I know.” Fuck me, I knew. But I stood by every horrific choice I’d made. If I’d told Embry the truth at any point over the last three years, he’d be in this room with us, waiting for the axe to fall and take his whole fucking life away from him.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Juana said. “Outside. Will they kill you?”
“I don’t think so.”
“What will they do?”
The door opened. Nash slipped inside and shut it behind him. Liliana was still on the table, anxious hands curled into fists. She moved to get down.
