My attention sticks on the knife, but Toro sees it and moves it farther back.
Smart bastard.
“Where’s Carmen?” I ask.
Boca laughs too fast.
Toro’s eyes do not move.
Interesting.
“Your boy in the garage said to tell Diablo you got his girl’s girl,” I say. “So where does Carmen fit in?”
“That’s right,” Toro says.
“Then where is she?”
“Women like Carmen don’t come to places like this.”
“Too dirty?”
“Too real.”
I laugh before I can stop myself, and it hurts my lip.
He studies me for a beat too long. “I can see why he likes you.”
“Who?”
“Shady.”
My heart trips, but my face doesn’t.
Toro notices anyway because men like him live off tells.
“He’s a smartass,” he says. “Like you.”
“When he finds us, he’s going to kill you.”
“Maybe.” Toro shrugs. “Maybe not fast enough.”
That lands.
I hate that it lands.
Because I saw Shady bleeding. I saw the van doors close. I saw distance swallow him. For one tiny, traitorous second, I wonder if this is how Darling felt in Rico’s apartment, waiting for a door to open and not knowing whether rescue was real or just something women invented to survive long nights.
Darling.
My throat tightens hard enough to hurt. She is going to blame herself. My sweet, stubborn, too-soft-for-her-own-good Darling will hear they took me because of her and fold the guilt into herself like another bruise. She will look at Diablo with those big hurt eyes and think loving him cost me.
No.
That can’t happen.
I straighten in the chair.
Toro arches a brow. “You ready?”
