Toro laughs softly. “She’s listening.”
My breath stops.
On the line, there is silence.
Then Shady speaks, and his voice changes. Not softer exactly. More dangerous because the tenderness is trapped inside it.
“Lady.”
A pause.
Then her voice.
Hers.
Bloody. Rough. Alive.
“Shady.”
I make a sound so small I hate it.
Diablo’s hand moves to the back of my neck. Not to hold me still. To keep me standing.
On the phone, Shady exhales.
Not relief.
Recognition.
He got her clue.
“I heard you,” he says.
Three words.
The whole clubhouse goes still.
Not because he called.
Because Lady got through.
Toro says, “You come alone. No Diablo. No Vice. No club parade. You come alone and maybe she leaves breathing.”
Shady is quiet for a beat.
“You want me alone because you’re scared of the Saints.”
Toro’s voice loses polish. “Do you want her breathing or not?”
Shady ignores the bait. “Lady.”
“Yeah?”
“You still with me?”
Her voice tries to shake.
It doesn’t break.
