Page 77 of The Final Cut

Reva is anger, grief, desire, impulse, mouth, fear, heart. She is too much for her own body on most days and far too much for any man who mistakes possession for protection. She is also the woman who shot a man over Cal’s bleeding body and still apologized for making survival difficult.

“Yes,” Sabine says at last. “I figured that was the case.”

Then she is gone. We wait three minutes before moving.

Ever tracks the alley cameras and gives us a clean route back to the car we left six blocks away. The rain has started again by the time we reach it, soft against the windshield, turning the streetlights into long gold smears across the glass.

Deacon drives because he knows the city’s underbelly better than I do tonight, and because I need both hands free to unfold Sabine’s schedule and build the shape of our next mistake.

For several blocks, neither of us speaks.

Then Deacon says, “You can’t use Delia as bait.”

I look out at the wet street. “I am trying to make sure nobody uses either one of them as bait.”

His hands tighten on the wheel.

I let the silence stretch because I know men like Deacon. Silence works on them if you let it grow teeth.

At last, I say, “You have to decide before this goes any farther whether you are extracting Delia for Delia, for Reva, or for yourself.”

His eyes remain on the road. “Careful.”

“You say that often.”

“You ignore it often.”

“I will keep ignoring it until you answer.”

A muscle jumps in his cheek. “For Delia because she deserves to be free. For Reva because leaving her sister in that house will poison her by inches. For myself because I have been Isabel’s lapdog too long, and I am done with that.”

It is more honest than I expected.

I guess I respect it.

“And when Delia does not want the freedom you hand her?” I ask. “When she wants the house, the name, the power, the parts of La Rosa she believes she can turn? What then?”

He says nothing for almost a mile.

Then, “Then we learn what kind of throne Isabel built and how much blood it takes to move it.”

I look at him. He still has his eyes on the road.

This is what Reva does not see yet. Killing Isabel will be easy compared to everything that comes after. La Rosa will not vanish because its matriarch bleeds out. Men will reach. Women will maneuver. Old debts will wake. Territory will tremble. The sisters are the blood of that line whether they want the inheritance or not.

Ever’s voice returns in my ear. “Reva is asking for an update.”

My chest tightens.

“Tell her we’re coming back with intel,” I say.

A pause.

“She asked if intel is code for one of you bleeding.”

Despite myself, my mouth moves. Deacon glances over.

“Tell her no,” I say. “For once.”