“Lady got a text. Unknown number. Photo from last night. White rose in frame.”
Silence.
Then Magic’s voice changes. “Where are you?”
“Her place.”
“Stay there.”
“That was the plan.”
Lady snatches the phone out of my hand and hangs up.
I stare at her.
She stares back.
“You didn’t just hang up on my sergeant-at-arms.”
“I did. Felt amazing.”
“You’re in danger.”
“I noticed.”
“Then act like it.”
Her face hardens. “I’m acting like it. I’m not letting them trap me in my own house before they even touch me.”
“That’s pride talking.”
“No, baby. That’s survival.”
Baby.
She says it like a slap.
I grab my cut, pull it on, and feel the weight settle over my shoulders. Leather. Patch. Rank. Responsibility. My phone is already buzzing again, but I ignore it for one more second because Lady is looking at me like she’s trying to decide if I’m a man or just another locked door.
I don’t want to be that to her.
I don’t know how not to.
“Listen to me,” I say. “I’m not telling you to hide because you’re weak. I’m telling you because they won’t hit the president straight if they can hit the woman standing close enough to make him bleed. Darling is exposed. Diablo is exposed. But they’re at Vice Ink, protected. You’re Darling’s best friend, and you’re mine, but we’re alone.”
Her eyes flicker at the word. Mine. Too soon. Too late. Too much. Not enough.
“Am I?” she asks quietly.
The question slips under my ribs.
Before I can answer, another text lights up her screen.
Same unknown number.
Ask Shady who Cherry is.
Lady’s face closes.
