Furious.
Worse than furious.
Clear.
“What did he mean?” she asks.
My chest tightens.
I know exactly what she means.
I still try for time because I’m a coward in the one place that matters.
“Boca runs his mouth.”
“Not that.” Her voice cuts. “Don’t insult me right now.”
I shut up.
The others go quiet around us. Even Magic, which should count as a miracle.
Lady lifts her chin. Blood has dried at the corner of her mouth. Her wrists are raw. There is a white petal stuck in her hair.
She looks like a woman who walked out of hell and brought the fire with her.
“Cherry’s baby? Is the baby yours?”
The world stops.
There are gunshots still ringing in my ears, sirens getting closer, brothers bleeding behind me, Toro escaping into Miami, Carmen’s fingerprints all over the idea of this, and none of it matters because Lady is looking at me like my answer might be the thing that saves us or finishes what Boca started.
I know the answer.
I owe her the answer.
I freeze anyway.
Just for one breath.
One stupid, damning breath.
Her face changes.
Not a lot.
Enough.
“Oh,” she whispers.
That little word cuts deeper than Boca’s bullet ever could.
“Lady.”
She steps back before I can touch her.
“Don’t.”
“Baby, listen to me.”
