Chapter 6 #3
Wherever she is, whatever couch Darling got her to sit on, whatever bandage she is picking at so she doesn’t cry, she just saw the whole city turn her kidnapping into gossip and entertainment.
I move for the door.
Diablo gets in front of me again.
I bare my teeth. “Move.”
“No.”
“She saw it.”
“I know.”
“It will ruin her.”
“I know.”
“Then get the fuck out of my way.”
Diablo doesn’t blink. “What are you going to do when you get there? Kick her door in? Take her phone? Tell her not to look? Beat every blogger in Miami until she trusts you?”
My chest heaves.
Because yes.
Every instinct in me says yes.
Every instinct in me is wrong.
Diablo lowers his voice. “You said you would not follow tonight.”
I did.
To her face.
I said I would not drag her back.
She ain’t ready.
She is bleeding anyway.
I look at my phone.
Darling texts again.
Don’t come here unless she asks.
A second message follows.
She ain’t asking. This is her career.
The screen blurs for half a second.
I lock my jaw until it clears.
Vice steps closer. “Brother.”
“Don’t.”
He stops.
Good.
I can’t take sympathy right now. Sympathy feels too much like hands holding me back.
I type with thumbs that want to break the phone in half.
Tell her I saw it. Tell her I’m not coming because I promised. Tell her every word I should have said before, I will say when she lets me.
I stare at it.
It ain’t enough.
Nothing is.
I send it anyway.
Then I type one more line.
Tell her I’m going to make the people who did this regret learning her name.
I send that too.
Darling’s answer comes after ten long seconds.
She said she doesn’t need revenge. She needs truth.
I close my eyes.
Lady’s voice fills my head.
Bring better answers next time, gringo.
I open my eyes and look at Diablo.
“Truth first,” I say.
He nods once. “Now you’re learning.”
“Don’t sound proud. Makes me want to relapse.”
Magic clears his throat. “Into murder?”
“Among other hobbies.”
Vice picks up my chair and sets it upright. “Sit down, smartass.”
I sit because if I stand, I run.
Alpha turns the tablet toward us. “The leak is coordinated. Carmen’s people are pushing the emotional angle and nightlife pages are amplifying Lady as the scandal.”
“Can you kill it?” Diablo asks.
Alpha’s smile is thin. “No. But I can make it bleed a different way.”
“What way?” I ask.
“Truth, selectively deployed.” His eyes land on me. “But not without Lady’s consent.”
Consent.
That word should not feel like punishment.
It does.
Because I took choices from silence, not force. Men like me love to think that matters. It doesn’t matter enough.
Cherry whispers, “What happens to me?”
I look at her.
Magic’s hand tightens on the back of her chair.
Diablo answers before I do. “You’re moved out of Vice Ink. Safe house. Guarded. If your sister and niece are in danger, we secure them. If you lie again, protection ends for you, not them.”
Cherry nods, crying silently.
She looks at me one last time. “Shady.”
I meet her eyes.
“Can you say for certain Rosa was mine?”
She studies the table between us. For one second, she looks like she might lie because needing me to believe it is the last thing she has left.
Then her mouth trembles. “No.”
The word guts the room.
“But I believed it,” she whispers. “I needed it to be true.”
I nod once, even though something old in me cracks. “That is the first honest thing you’ve given me today.”
There is grief there. Mine too. Old and ugly and real. But it ain’t a chain anymore.
“Goodbye, Cherry.”
She breaks.
Magic takes her out.
I don’t look away until the door shuts.
Then I look at my phone again.
No new message.
Lady is somewhere with Darling, seeing my past fed to Miami like gossip candy.
And for the first time in my life, the hardest thing I have to do is nothing.
Not nothing.
Worse.
Wait.
Tell the truth.
Let her choose whether I ever get close enough to touch her again.
I lean back in the chair and laugh once.
It sounds dead.
Vice looks at me. “What?”
“Turns out I can take a bullet easier than I can take not texting a woman.”
Diablo actually smiles, the bastard.
“Welcome to the club.”
“Fuck your club.”
“You wear the patch.”
“Under protest.”
Alpha’s phone pings again. His smile fades.
“What now?” Diablo asks.
Alpha looks at me.
Then at the screen.
“Lady posted.”
My heart stops.
He puts it up before anyone asks.
It is a photo of Lady’s hand, bandaged wrist visible, middle finger raised. No face. No tears. No weakness. Just her rings, chipped polish, and that furious Miami attitude in one perfect shot.
The caption underneath is short.
“Fuck your rumors. Carmen Solano had me kidnapped by the Miami Mutherfukers MC. That’s why I skipped my gig.”
For one second, no one speaks.
Then Key Rat whispers, “Damn.”
I stare at the screen until my chest hurts.
Bleeding. Furious. Not mine. Still the strongest woman in the room, even from miles away.
Then a new comment appears under her post from an anonymous account.
Ask Shady why he chose Cherry first.
My hand closes around the edge of the table.
Wood cracks under my grip.
They won’t leave her alone.
Lady’s post stays bright on the screen.
The whole city is watching now.