I stare out the windshield, breathing hard, trying not to fall apart.
Vice Ink sits somewhere across the city like a dark cathedral.
Carmen’s territory.
Diablo’s kingdom.
If I walk back in there, I’m choosing a side.
If I don’t, I’m gambling with Disco’s life.
My throat tightens.
I swallow hard.
“Take me to Vice Ink.”
Lady glances at me.
“You sure?”
“No,” I admit softly. “But I’m done being scared.”
Lady nods once, sharp.
“Good,” she says. “Because once you walk in, bebé… you don’t get to pretend you’re not in it.”
The SUV pulls into traffic.
As we drive, Miami feels sharper somehow. Louder. Like the city itself knows something ugly just turned personal.
And this time it isn’t about love.
It’s about survival.
Chapter 16
Darling
Vice Ink looks the same from the outside, like it never changes no matter how many people bleed inside it. Neon buzzes in the old church window, throwing pink and blue stains across the sidewalk like Miami can’t help being loud. But it feels different walking toward it tonight.
It feels like stepping onto a battlefield with nothing but my pride and a busted heart for armor.
Lady idles at the curb in her SUV, engine purring soft, headlights washing over cracked pavement and Saints bikes like a spotlight. She squeezes my hand before I get out, nails sharp against my knuckles.
“You want me to come in?”
I glance at the door and my throat constricts like I swallowed grit. I can still see Rico’s apartment when I blink, the cage rattling, Disco’s frantic fluttering, Rico’s grin like he owned my fear. I can still hear his voice in my ear, sweet and cruel, promising to eat my Disco bird.
“This is between me and them,” I say, even though that isn’t true.
Lady’s mouth twists. “And her.”
Yeah. And her.
Lady leans closer, voice dropping low like she’s giving a blessing before a funeral. “If you start to feel stupid, baby, remember this. You’re not asking permission. You’re walking in there because you have a reason.”
“I know,” I whisper, even as my stomach rolls.
