His eyes cut to me. “You want her dead or useful?”
“Both.”
“Pick useful first.”
“Presidential bullshit.”
“Effective presidential bullshit. Half your brothers are still loyal to her. Maybe men outside these doors.”
Looking around, I hate him again.
“Fine,” I say. “But when useful is done, I get in line.”
“There is a line,” Magic says. “Darling’s probably first.”
“Lady might beat all of us,” Vice says.
The thought almost makes me smile.
Almost.
Lady would not shoot Carmen from a distance. She would get close enough to say something cutting first. Something in Spanish that would make Carmen’s face tighten before the blood hit.
God help me, I miss her.
It has been maybe twenty minutes.
I am pathetic.
Love makes fools of rough men. Nobody tells you that. They talk about claiming and putting your woman on the back of your bike. They don’t tell you about sitting in church with your ribs split open because the woman you want finally saw the rot you hid and had the good sense to walk away.
Key Rat opens the door without knocking. “We got a problem.”
Diablo’s head turns. “Only one?”
“Funny.” Key Rat holds up a phone. “Blind item just hit two Miami gossip pages and one nightlife account. It’s spreading fast.”
My body goes cold.
Alpha stands. “Put it on screen.”
“No,” I say.
Everybody looks at me.
I push back from the table. “Read it.”
Key Rat looks at Diablo.
Diablo nods.
Key Rat clears his throat. “Miami’s favorite Latina DJ might want to check the mileage on her white boy biker beau. Sources say a certain Saints Outlaws road captain still has unfinished business with a clubhouse redhead, including a secret pregnancy and a tragic loss. Did Lady Nyx skip out on a charity gig to cry over a man who was never fully hers?”
My ears start ringing.
Cherry makes a wounded sound.
Magic says, “Motherfucker.”