“I know.”His voice roughened.“We don’t go blind.”
“How long for backup?”Her voice cracked.
“Hour, maybe less.”He met her eyes.“Nadia’s close.”
“I can’t wait.”She moved to the door, legs unsteady.
Sergei blocked her, body a wall.“We are not going in alone.”
“Then come.”Her eyes challenged.“Now.Us.”
“That’s a suicide mission,” he growled.
“Tiana’s chance.”Her tremor spiked.
His jaw clenched, decision made.He unlocked a cabinet, pulling a gun, checked it, tucked it under his shirt.“You follow my lead.No arguments.”
“Okay.”Relief and dread mixed.
“And you tell me if a seizure’s coming.”His eyes bored into hers.“Right away.”
She nodded, slipping her bracelet on—metal cool, a vow.“Nothing heroic, I promise,” she said.
Sergei opened the door, arm brushing hers, heat sparking.“Stay close.They don’t leave witnesses.”
Little Havana’s neon faded, streets quiet.Tiana counted on them.Her foster sister’s loss drove her forward, a promise she’d keep, no matter the cost.
Chapter 6
Rain lashed Sergei’sjacket, cold seeping through his shoulders.He angled his body to shield Keisha from the street.Wet asphalt and grilled meat from a nearby ventanita filled the air.He scanned the Calle Ocho warehouse ahead.It was surrounded by rusted chain-link, loading docks shadowed by overgrown palms.Blind spots everywhere.His hand hovered near his gun.The knife, his backup if he needed it, was hidden beneath the leg of his pants.
“One of the other kids, Imani, saw a strange man three times last week.”Keisha’s voice came out softer than he’d expected.Her sneakers sloshed through a puddle, stepping past him.“Across from the community center, when the kids got home.”
Sergei grabbed her elbow.“Keep low, Keisha.”
She yanked free, eyes narrowing.“Don’t start with me right now, Sergei.”
