SHOOTING IN LITTLE HAVANA: GANG CONNECTIONS SUSPECTED.
My stomach churns.
Carmen looks back at Diablo, smile gone. “Do you know what they’re saying?” she asks, calm voice, sharp eyes.
Diablo’s voice is flat. “I don’t give a fuck what they’re saying.”
Carmen’s nostrils flare just a little. “You should.”
Diablo takes a step toward her, voice dropping into a warning. “Not now.”
Carmen’s gaze flicks to me again, and there is a glint of cruelty under her polish. Not loud. Not messy. Just deliberate.
“So,” she says softly. “She survived.”
I sit up straighter. Pain flares in my cheek, but I refuse to be spoken about like I am a thing in a display case.
Carmen’s eyes travel down my face, my bandages, the blanket, and she tilts her head like she is pretending sympathy.
“You look fragile,” she says. “I didn’t expect that.”
“I’m not fragile,” I bite out.
Carmen’s smile returns, thin and sharp. “Good. Then you’ll understand what I’m about to say without breaking.”
Diablo’s voice turns dangerous. “Carmen.”
She ignores him like he is background noise. “You’ve stepped into something bigger than you,” she tells me. “You’re not just a woman with a sad story. You’re a complication. And complications are expensive.”
Anger flares so bright it makes my eyes sting. “I didn’t ask to be dragged into your club.”
Carmen’s gaze slides to Diablo. “But he dragged you anyway.”
Diablo’s jaw tightens. “I brought her in because she was in danger.”
“And now she’s in the hospital,” Carmen says, voice still calm, “and the news is calling us a gang, and our enemies will smell weakness, and our allies will start asking questions. This is what your feelings cost.”
“Don’t talk about her like she’s a bill,” Diablo says.
Carmen laughs softly. “Funny. Considering you paid her once, didn’t you?”
Heat rushes to my face, shame and fury tangled together. She’s implying I’m a whore. It’s not even true.
Diablo’s voice is a warning. “Enough.”
Carmen’s gaze flicks to his cut like he is a headline. “You’re here. In your colors. In public. Hovering over her like she’s your wife.”
Wife makes my chest hurt in a way I hate.
Carmen steps closer, perfume cold and floral. “You’re engaged to me,” she says to Diablo, loud enough for the hallway to hear. “You’ve postponed the wedding too many times.”
Diablo doesn’t look away. “Don’t do this.”
Carmen’s voice drops, smile staying. “I’m not doing anything. You are.”
She glances at me like she is measuring me and finding me lacking. “Be careful, Darling Rivera. Men like him ruin women. And then they move on.”
“You don’t know him,” I snap, and I hate that my voice cracks.
