Daniela.
Have to get to Daniela.
“Call Vinnie.”
It rings once.
“Hawk?”He sounds wired.He’s been wired since this whole thing started.At least Belinda is home safely.“Jesus fuck.I’m getting ready to leave.You can’t do this alone.I’m moving.Wait for me.”
“If I turn around, I lose time.”The white lines on the road blur faster.“And time is the only thing keeping Dani alive.”
“Time and not doing something suicidal,” he snaps.“Wewillfind her, but I need to get my men on this.Give me some time.”
“Time?One minute could be the difference between a door opening and a trigger being pulled.”I try to keep the heat out of my voice.
“Hawk, listen to me.”He blows out a breath.“I know these kinds of men.When Jacinto was alive, Franco—Chef, Gordon Brown, whatever name he’s wearing—used Daniela to get back at his brother.He wanted Jacinto tofeel.But now?There’s no leash.If Chef has been spiraling, he’s not going to follow any code.You roll up solo and you give him exactly what he wants.This is theater to him, and you’re going to give him an audience.”
The wordtheaterlands like gravel in my head.
“Vinnie.”I keep my eyes on the road.“He told Daniela to come alone.If he even smells backup, he could panic and blow everything…including her.”
“Or he could be bluffing because hewantsa chase.He wants to move you like a chess piece.”Paper rustles on his end.“You drop into his zone blind and you don’t know what you’re walking into.”
I tighten my grip on the steering wheel until my knuckles go white.I force a slow inhale.“Where are you now?”I ask.
“Office.Raven’s making calls.Belinda’s home and upstairs with a therapist friend who owes me twenty favors.”He pauses.“Hawk, please.Don’t do this alone.”
“Sorry,” I say, though I’m not sorry at all.
“You’re doing this,” he says, not a question.Resignation, anger, and—yes—even understanding lace his tone.
“I am.”
A pause.“Then listen.Park at least three hundred yards out.Don’t silhouette yourself.Wind is ten miles per hour from the northwest, so approach from the east to keep sound masked by the tree line.And Hawk?”
“Yeah?”
“If something feelsoff, it is.Don’t be a hero.”
“I’m not a hero,” I say.“I’m the man who gets her home.”
He goes quiet for a moment.“Send me your live location.I won’t move on you.I just want to see your dot moving.”
“You’ll have it.”I send it over.
I press on the gas.
Franco Agudelo.Gordon Brown.Uncle.Chef.The names pile up like dishes in a sink.The story Vinnie told me is still rattling around—black sheep, forced into servitude, addiction, a second life as a chef.It would be almost tragic if he hadn’t dragged Daniela into it.
Then there’s Reyes.The favor.The coordinates to the barn wreathed in moonflowers like a shrine.Burn it,he said, and I almost did.
He promised to destroy what he had on me.Maybe he did.Maybe he didn’t.I can still feel the weight of that burner phone in my pocket like a curse.One favor.
And now here I am, driving a hundred down a county road to save the woman I love.
The Bellamy fixer.That’s who I was.
Tonight I’m not fixing.
