His crooked smile falters as his gaze shifts to Bones, now back at my side.
“This one’s intense, isn’t he,jefe?” he asks, jerking his thumb in my direction.
Ialmostroll my eyes, my skin prickling with the urge to move. “We don’t have time for this. Is everything ready on your side? I want this shit done tonight.”
His expression hardens instantly. He nods.
“Everything’s in place.”
Then that crooked smile creeps back, slow and satisfied like a well-fed cat.
“I’ve been waiting for Sombra’s death for years, Fantasma. You deliver that, and I’ll owe you one.”
Fucking asshole. He’ll owe me ten.
“Fuck,” Bones mutters. “This better work.” He fixes Santiago with a glare that could burn through a brick wall. “If you screw us over, there won’t be a fucking hole on this planet deep enough for you to hide from the Vultures.”
Santiago clicks his tongue. “I’m not stupid or suicidal,jefe. You’ve got nothing to worry about on my end. But let’s hope that tracker of yours does the job, and that it still works despite the signal jammers. I have no idea where Sombra’s hiding. I was never trusted with that information. Once I hand your brother over to his men, it’s out of my hands.”
Bones opens his mouth to keep pressing, but I cut in before this turns into a pissing contest.
“Let’s go.”
I turn and start toward Santiago’s cage without looking back.
We already went over every detail on the phone. Standing around here jawing won’t change anything. I need to take my shot, and I can only hope this fucker isn’t setting me up.
I know Bones hates the plan. I know the rest of the brothers aren’t thrilled either. But I’ve been mapping this out for months. Adjusting. Reworking. Adapting to every scrap of new intel.
This is the cleanest way. The fastest way.
And after Grizz dragged Adora back onto the cartel’s radar, I need this finished. I need to know she’s safe.
And this plan is all we have. AllIhave.
I’m barely a few seconds inside Santiago’s cage, pulling a pair of handcuffs from my cut pocket, when he joins me in the back seat. The driver and the other passenger follow, and before I even have time to take a full breath, we’re already on the move.
“You’re on edge, Fantasma,” Santiago murmurs, staring straight ahead as he shifts in his seat. “That’s understandable.”
He throws me a sideways smile and casually pulls a syringe from the center console. I tense instantly. A ripple of unease rolls through me, cold as ice. The urge to grab my knife and gun spikes so hard I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from blowing holes through this cage.
“But you need to bring your A-game tonight,” he continues, the smile disappearing. “Or you won’t survive.”
My eyes lock on the syringe in his hand as that ever-present bad feeling in my gut flares, spreading fast through my body.
“What the fuck is that?” I snarl, jerking my chin toward it.
“A small change of plans,” he says calmly. “They want you unconscious, and they’ll know if you’re pretending.” His eyes go cold. “You don’t have to trust me, Fantasma. You just have to trust the fear of retaliation from your club.”
A beat.
“Trust the power of the Vultures.”
It takes three deep breaths for the white noise in my head to fade into silence. Acceptance. It’s worth the risk for the chance to keep Adora safe.
Without a word, I angle my neck to the left.
Santiago smiles.
