“You’ll get one,” Christian says.
Jackson takes the phone back straight away, already replaying the video, already pulling it apart, zooming in, rewinding, going frame by frame like if he looks at it enough something will slip.
I stand there.
And for the first time since this started...I don’t know where to put this.
There’s nothing in front of me.
Nothing to hit.
Nothing to tear apart.
Just, waiting.
“I’m going to Vargas territory.”
The words come out before I’ve fully thought them through, but the second they’re there, they feel right.
“I’ll knock on their fucking door.”
“That’s not happening,” Christian snaps.
Zach straightens at the sink, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his breathing uneven before he turns and heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“Out,” he says, not looking at me. “I can’t be in here right now.”
He leaves. The door shuts behind him.
Christian looks back at me.
“You walk into their territory right now, you’ll get shot before you make it past the entrance,” he says. “I’ve got someone working inside. Give them time to pull one of their guys out where we can get to him.”
Time.
The word lands wrong.
Because I can still see her.
On her knees. Blood on her mouth. His hand on her. Something shifts in me.
Not calmer.
Not controlled.
Darker.
Because I can feel it now.
The edge of something I haven’t stepped into yet.
Helplessness.
I don’t know where she is.
I don’t know how to get to her.
