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“Yes.”
The stranger sputters a cough, sending whiskey down the front of his shirt. Too woozy to know he’s going to die tonight, and instead he rolls his head back and forth on the gravel, moaning.
Pushing to my feet, I grab hold of his arm and drag him across the gravel to the wall of the roof.
“Damon, what are you doing?” Ivy’s voice is low, almost a whisper trailing after me.
“Go back to your apartment.”
“Wait. I’ll call the police. I’ll tell them he broke into my apartment.”
I finally turn to face her, studying her eyes to see if even she believes that calling the police will do any good. After all the times she attempted to get Calvin out of her life, surely she’s lost her faith in them.
“I just don’t want this traced back to you. Just leave him, and we’ll go. We’ll get out of here. Out of this city.”
“They’re after you, Ivy. Whoever Calvin worked for, is after you now.”
Her eyes fall to the stranger for a moment. “He told you that?”
“They work for the same man. One who has links to cartels.”
“Who?”
It’s better if she doesn’t know. Asking about him could get her killed, if the rumors are anything to go by. “Take whatever money you have. Get out of here. Don’t tell me where you’re going. Don’t tell anyone where you’re going.”
Eyes wide, she throws up her hands and shakes her head. “Whoa. Wait. What are you saying, Damon? You want me to just up and take off? Without you?”
“Yes. And don’t tell me where you’re going.”
“I have a job. An apartment. Alife.” Her hands fly to her hips. “One I thought you wanted to be a part of, but if you don’t, that’s fine. Either way, I can’t just up and leave.”
“You don’t have a choice. You stay, and you die. These cartels don’t fuck around. Whatever connections Calvin had afforded you some immunity, but now that he’s dead, you have to leave.”
“And what about you?”
“I’m not staying, either.”
Another moan warns the stranger’s slowly coming to, and I knock my fist into his face again to silence him. When I look up, Ivy has tears in her eyes, arms crossed in what I’m guessing will be a stubborn attempt to fight me on this.
“I’m not going anywhere, Damon. I’m sorry about Philippe. That’s on me, and I take full responsibility for what happened to him. I should’ve never gone to Calvin’s that night. But you’re … you’re not being rational right now. You’re making fast decisions, and it’s scaring the shit out of me.”
Striding toward her, I note the few steps she takes back, but I reach out to grab her arms, and she stills, casting her gaze from mine. “What happened to Philippe wasn’t your fault. They’re coming for you, regardless of Philippe.”
Her gaze finally lifts to mine, and I can almost see the realization dawning in them. “You’re going after him, aren’t you? You’re going after the man Calvin worked for.”
“He doesn’t know I’m alive. But the moment he finds out, I’m as dead as the rest of them.”
“Take me with you.”
“No. You need to find somewhere safe and lay low for a while.”
“The only place I know that’s safe is with you.”
“Not anymore, Ivy.”
“Well, I’m not leaving.”
“You no longer have that choice.” Eyes on her, I back myself to where the man still lies passed out on the gravel. I lift him up onto the wall of the roof and roll him over the edge of it.
