“I’m alive. I’m mad. My lip looks worse than it feels, and if Disco is watching this somehow, mijo, don’t learn any new words from Diablo right now.”
My smile hurts.
Behind the camera, one of the men snorts.
Good.
Let them think I’m performing.
I am.
Just not for them.
I shift slightly in the chair, letting the rose roll in my lap. My bound foot taps once against the concrete. Then again. Then a pattern.
One, two. Pause. One, two, three.
A beat.
A route.
Shady watched my hands on decks once at Eclipse, eyes narrowed like he was trying to understand how I could control a room without touching anybody. I told him music is just directions people don’t know they are following.
Let’s see if he remembers.
Toro’s gaze drops to my foot.
I stop.
“Tell Diablo,” Toro says quietly.
I look back at the camera.
“Diablo,” I say, letting my voice flatten. “They said if you want me back, you give Carmen what you stole.”
Toro nods.
“Tell Shady,” Toro says.
My heart hits harder.
For the first time since the camera came on, I almost lose the mask.
I see Shady in the elevator, jaw tight, looking at me like the word mine had scared him too. I see him grabbing my phone. I see his hand at my throat in bed, gentle enough to ask, cruel enough to make me want. I see him in the garage, gun raised, blood spreading at his side, the whole city narrowing to the sound of my name in his mouth.
I hate him a little for making me believe he will come.
I need him to come.
Both can be true.
I look straight into the red dot.
“Shady,” I say.
My voice drops without permission.
Boca shifts behind the camera.
