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I wanted to.
And yet, the thoughts slithered through my mind like poison. I couldn't stop them.
The doubts. The constant ache in my chest.
He'd abandoned me when I needed him the most.
"Tell me the truth, Tati," his voice, low, so the cop couldn't hear us talk. "I need to know what you found." His hand went to my shoulder, meant to be comforting but instead, felt like a vice.
I shook my head, defiant. "I didn't find anything."
We stared each other down.
Anxiety bubbled from my chest, up my throat, flushing my face with fear. My mind was frantic, my thoughts overflowing.
Manuel would kill every single one of them.
I forced myself to appear calm. Fisting the bird in my palm, I shook my head, pulling myself to my feet. "I told you. It's nothing," I lied, shoving the bird into my pocket.
I would save Honey myself.
I had to; I was the only one who could.
* * *
Throughout the rest of the day, Knight was furious, needing to kill the "fucker responsible for this."
I knew a junkie's agitation when I saw it, and Knight was an addict. His hands shook, his eyes manic, his attention drifting, lost inside his head.
We stayed at Maya's house only until the investigators arrived, leaving with a promise to find her. Then we spent the rest of the day and into the night questioning Knight's contacts, threatening them if necessary.
We'd missed the meeting with Ahanu, though he insisted the cartel had nothing to do with Honey's disappearance. He'd been overtly obtuse in the meeting, only stating that he was disappointed Knight wasn't there.
Knight was ready to burn down everything they owned and start an all-out war. The only thing stopping him was Coulter's firm warning to keep himself under control.
We'd worked relentlessly until Knight began to fall asleep at the wheel, and I insisted we return to the safe house. As soon as he dropped into slumber, I crept out of bed and moved to the bathroom, pacing.
I couldn't believe it.
Mother-fucking impossible! That fucker was dead!
He had to be.
I knew I'd seen his face when they'd held me captive and injected me with heroin. But afterwards, I thought it had been a hallucination, an effect of the drug.
And yet, I'd felt his throat give way with my knife, saw the blood spilling over the marble flooring. I'd watched life fade from his sight.
And yet, could he have survived? Was it possible?
My fingers curled around paper.
Who else would have known about the paper birds he used to make me, folding them at restaurant tables, leaving them scattered everywhere.
At first, it was cute.
Those were the days he'd wooed me, even though I now knew that it had all been a farce, a performance. That Pablo, Knight's cousin, had already sold me to Manuel, deceiving both me and Knight.
I remembered the first time I'd met Manuel. It was the day I went to Knight to ask him if he would ever marry me.
