Cosmo’s mouth softens. “I never planned to take you anywhere.”
Shady says nothing.
That silence rubs against me like a raw seam.
Darling pats my shoulder.
Cosmo cleans my wrists while Disco watches him like a tiny feathered judge. The antiseptic burns, and my vision flickers white at the edges, but I don’t make a sound. Darling does. A tiny wounded noise she tries to swallow.
“Stop,” I tell her.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You breathed guilty.”
“I don’t breathe guilty.”
“You do. It sounds like Catholic school and panic.”
Disco bobs. “¡Panic!”
Darling points at him. “Traitor.”
Diablo stands behind her, one hand loose at his side, eyes on the door where his brothers keep moving. He looks at me when Cosmo wraps the bandage.
“You did good,” he says.
I stare at him.
“I got kidnapped.”
“You stayed alive. You gave us a road. You got yourself found.”
I hate that the words land. I hate that my eyes burn.
“Don’t be nice to me, Diablo. I’m hanging on by spite.”
He nods like he understands. “Spite counts.”
“It’s my best quality.”
“Second best,” Darling says.
I glance at her. “Careful. I’m fragile.”
“No, you’re not.”
Thank God someone remembers.
Cosmo moves to my cheek next. Shady shifts where he stands near the bar, and I feel every inch of him fighting himself. Wanting to come closer. Wanting to touch. Wanting to fix what can’t be fixed with blood on his knuckles.
I let Cosmo tape a small cut near my temple. I let him check my pupils. I let Darling hand me water. I let Disco steal a corner of the gauze wrapper and drop it like he murdered it for me.
I don’t let myself look at Shady until I have no choice.
Because the room has gone too quiet.
Cherry is not here.
