I say nothing.
Because my throat is full of broken glass.
Diablo’s hand finally drops from my chest.
“Let it feel like dying,” he says. “Then don’t die from it.”
Magic snorts from the hall. “That was almost poetic, Prez.”
Diablo doesn’t look away from me. “Shut up.”
“Back to normal. Good.”
I drag a hand over my jaw and feel dried blood crack across my knuckles. My side throbs. My head is a war zone. My dick, because my body is a sick bastard, still remembers Lady standing there furious and bruised, mouth split, eyes on fire, telling me to bring better answers next time.
Bring better answers next time, gringo.
There will be a next time.
There has to be.
But not if I turn her fear into a chase.
I look toward the hall where Magic holds Cherry.
Cherry is watching me with red eyes and a ruined face. Not ruined from fists. From consequences. She looks smaller without the anger holding her upright. Still pretty. Still dangerous. Still a woman I failed before she became a weapon used against the woman I want.
I point at her. “Put her in church.”
Magic lifts a brow. “You sure?”
“No,” I say. “That seems to be my fucking brand today.”
Diablo turns toward Magic. “Vice back yet?”
Key Rat lowers one phone. “Six has eyes on Darling’s car. Vice is circling back. Says Lady is staring out the window like she’s planning a murder and Darling is talking with her hands, so everybody’s alive.”
“Tell Six to stay on them,” Diablo says. “Distance only.”
Key Rat nods and starts talking into the phone again.
I look at him. “And if Lady spots him?”
Key Rat smirks. “Then Six dies bravely.”
“Good. Saves paperwork.”
“Paperwork’s Alpha’s kink,” Magic says.
Alpha doesn’t look up from his screens. “I heard that.”
“You were meant to.”
Diablo snaps his fingers once. “Enough. Church. Now.”
Cherry makes a sound, small and wet. “Shady.”
I don’t answer.
