Calvino pulls us down another street, and ahead there’s a busy intersection with another strip mall. A car’s parked in front of a fire hydrant, and I recognize Diego as he steps out from behind the wheel and shades his eyes, squinting at us.
“Get it started!” Calvino shouts, and Diego jumps back into the car.
We reach it just as a black truck comes shooting around the corner and nearly T-bones a Tesla. Horns blare and honk as I practically throw Charlie and Emilio into the back seat. Calvino makes sure I get in next before he leaps around to the passenger side, and Diego doesn’t wait for him to close the door before he’s flooring it and zooming into traffic. The black truck gets stuck trying to maneuver its way out from between three very pissed-off car drivers, all of them honking and shouting, and we run the next light, make a few sharp turns, and finally drift into traffic.
I’m sweating and I think I might die from exhaustion, but we’re safe again.
“You’re lucky I was getting donuts,” Diego says, laughing hysterically at his own joke.
Calvino grins at him. “I knew you’d make it in time.”
“God, that was close. If I hadn’t been up and ready—” Diego shakes his head and his smile slowly fades. “But how the hell did he find you?”
Calvino grunts and turns around. He looks at Charlie, who frowns, her eyes red-rimmed and her cheeks tearstained. “Tablet,” he says, raising his eyebrows.
“Excuse me?”
“Tablet. And phone. Vince tracked your electronics.”
“No, that can’t… I mean, it’s not like…” She blinks rapidly. “Oh, shit.”
Calvino rolls down his window and reaches out a hand. Reluctantly Charlie hands the stuff over, her phone, Emilio’s tablet, and another tablet, plus a laptop. Diego pulls over long enough for Calvino to toss everything into a pile on the side of the road.
“I feel naked without my phone,” Charlie says softly and I laugh and squeeze her hand.
“Better that than dead.”
“Says you.” She sighs and leans her head back, squeezing her eyes shut. “What are we going to do now?”
“I have a plan,” Calvino says and looks back at me over his shoulder. “My family needs to know what Charlie just told us.”
“No,” Charlie says and her eyes shoot open. “No, no, no, you can’t tell them. You can’t tell anyone. Please, Calvino.”
“They need to know,” he says softly, gently, and keeps looking at me. “What Vince did, it was too far. It was way too far. They have to know if we’re going to end this.”
Charlie’s pale and horrified, and I turn to her. I steel myself against this, because there’s no easy way out of something so wretched and twisted and evil, especially not when the truth is as terrible as what she told us. If I were in her position, I’d want to keep it buried away as far as possible and never thing about it again, but Calvino’s right: if we’re going to stop Vince, we need to start by making sure everyone knows just how far across the line he went.
“He’s right,” I say simply and there’s no other way around it. “They have to know. He made you—” I stop myself and touch her knee, unable to speak the words out loud: he made you sleep with another man.
Charlie releases one miserable sob and nods her head, lowering her chin down, and closing her eyes as she hugs Emilio tighter against her chest.
I look back at Calvino and his expression breaks me—stuffed with sorrow and anger and hatred, blinding and powerful hatred, like a fire raging bright in his eyes.
“Take us to Damon’s place,” Calvino says and Diego drives.
Chapter 31
Grace
“I really shouldn’t let you in,” Damon says as our exhausted and sweat-covered group enters through the front of the house and gets comfortable in the living room. Emilio crawls around until Damon puts PJ Mask on TV for him, and Charlie remains hovering protectively. Damon frowns at her and sighs before he joins me, Diego, and Calvino in the kitchen. “Seriously, Vince is going to murder me.”
“You need to hear this,” Calvino says, giving his brother a hard look. “You got whiskey?”
“Of course, but it’s like nine in the morning.”
“Pour it. You’ll want some.”
Damon barks a sharp laugh. “Are you joking?”
“Pour it,” I confirm. I can use a drink myself right about now. Escaping death leaves me strangely thirsty.
Damon sighs, but he gets out enough glasses for everyone, including Charlie, and pours a bit of whiskey into each. Diego stands off to the side watching carefully, and I know Charlie would prefer it if he weren’t here, but at this point we need him. And besides, he’s risked his life enough—he deserves the truth.
“What’s so bad that you’re kidnapping Charlie and Emilio from Vince and making me drink in the morning?” Damon takes a sip and doesn’t look like anyone’s forcing him to swallow.