“No!”
Another phone rings, a different ringtone.
“He’s calling me.” Soph’s voice hardens. It thickens. “I’ll call you all back in a s?—”
“Take it on speaker!” Felix booms. “You’re in this now, Solomon, so either you’re one of us, and he’s inviting you to dinner too, or you’re withhim, and he’s calling to update you on whatever it is you’ve cooked up together. My trust is in the basement of Hades right now, because I thought that bastard was my friend. Answer the call,” he grits out. “Put it on speaker.”
“Fine,” she huffs. “Everyone be quiet.” The phone silences, then Soph answers, “Estefan. This is Sophia.”
“Sophia.” Just like he does with Minka, he makes his voice turn to butter. A gentle croon and kindness none of the rest of us ever get when he speaks to us. “I know you’re a busy woman. However, I’m hosting a dinner tomorrow night. I wish for you to attend.”
She allows the silence to hang for a loaded beat. Unlike Minka, who wears her every thought on her sleeve, Soph long ago mastered the art of negotiation. “Tomorrow… in New York?” She hums her uncertainty in the back of her throat. “I appreciate the invitation. Unfortunately, I’m not sure if I can?—”
“Clear your schedule. I’ll send a plane. Bring your sister.”
“My sister?” Soph’s cool, collected veneer cracks in an instant. “Impossible. We traveled last weekend, Estefan. My sister is pregnant and resting now that we’re back, which meansI have no interest in dragging her anywhere, no matter the reason.”
“The women in my life prove, once again, to be the reason this old man suffers headaches.” He sucks on his cigarette and exhales a groan. “Doctor Mayet tried declining, too.”
“Doctor Mayet?” Soph plays dumb, her tone perfectly conveying surprise. “You asked Minka to come to dinner, too? Who else?—”
“I wish for the four of you to be on that plane tomorrow, Ms. Solomon. Michelle will understand and, eventually, forgive.”
“W-what is there to forgive? What happened?”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night. And don’t bring your husbands. They’re not invited.”
“But—”
“Goodbye.”
MINKA
Just as he warned, Archer turns angry when he’s afraid, and when the boss of all bosses, the friggin’ head hoo-ha of New York City, requests a private dinner with his wife and three of her closest friends—and absolutely no husbands—his rage notches up to an all-time high.
“You don’t have to do this.” He grabs my arm in a too-tight grip and pulls me to a stop twenty feet from Cordoza’s jet in the private section at Copeland airport. The skin around his lips glows white, his teeth are gritted tight, and his eyes, so bright and pretty, glitter with a feral rage I’ve seen too often in our time together. “We have a different plane, Minka. We have money and new IDs. We have a whole other life we can step into.”
“Archer—”
“We could go to Jamaica permanently,” he insists desperately. “We could live on a yacht. Travel anywhereyou wanna go.” He leans closer, his breath hitting my chin. “We don’t have to jump just because Cordoza orders it.”
“If one is out, we’re all out.” Tim stalks across the blacktop, his hand wrapped around Aubree’s arm much the same way Archer’s is around mine. “We all disappear, or none of us. He’s asked for the four of them, not three and a fuckin’ raincheck. One ditching puts the others inmoredanger.”
“We’re all going.” I fill my lungs, expanding my chest and broadening my shoulders. Placing my hand over Archer’s, I meet his glittering, terrified stare. “He promised our safety.”
“He proved all week his promises don’t mean a damn thing! He manipulated you into killing a man, then he split us up.” He drags me around, as though presenting my back to the sleek, black plane buys us privacy. “Anyone who wants us apart is not a safe person, and they sure as fuck aren’t trustworthy.”
“We won’t get hurt.” Aubree peels Tim’s hand off her arm and comes to a stop on my left. She wears her standard bright colors, light-up shoes, and more pockets than anyone truly needs. She carries a pin-loaded backpack over one shoulder and tucks soft blonde locks behind her ear. “I get you don’t trust him. But you trust me.” Her ocean-blue eyes glitter with confidence. “He’s not going to hurt us.”
“You don’t get to rely on your…” Frustrated, Archer points at his head. “Powers. You said you only know what’s happening on whatever path people are onnow. But that shit changes the instanthechanges his mind. By then, you’re in New York and we—” He gestures around our audience: Cato, Felix, Micah, Harrison. Even Stovic and Michaels hover nearby. “—We can’t save you when we’re a whole fucking country apart.”
“You’re coming to New York, too.” I take Archer’s hand andtwine our fingers together. “As if you’ll just stay here in Copeland while we’re doing this.”
“I could be in the same house,” he groans, “And I still wouldn’t be able to save you. I could be standing right beside you, but if he wants you dead, there isn’t a damn thing I could do to stop it.” He points toward Felix’s jet instead. “Get on that one, and we’ll fly somewhere else. Anywhere else.”
“Cordoza ordered her to be onhisjet,” Felix rumbles. “Now. We’ll be behind them every step of the way, and when they’re at Cordoza’s, we’ll be nearby.”
“It’s all so fucking easy for you to say!” Archer snaps. “But I don’t see Christabelle’s name on the invitation list.”
