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I drop my hands and clench them into fists in an attempt to abate the shaking. The volcano has fucking erupted, and I’m still vibrating from the aftershocks.

“There’s an abandoned train somewhere out there. I found it the night of the Culling. I was going to follow that out,” I say. In the back of my brain, my logical side is screaming at me to stop telling him my plans in case he betrays me. But the larger side of me wants to trust Rio. So fucking badly, just this once.

“And the guards outside?” he questions, voice low.

I shake my head, a tear wiggling free. “I don’t know,” I cry. “I don’t—there’s no way—"

“Shut up, estúpida,” he barks again, keeping his voice quiet. “I’m going to go downstairs, and I’ll take care of the guards. I’ll leave the front door unlocked. Whatever you decide to do, and wherever you go, that’s your decision.”

A knot forms between my brow, and it takes several seconds to wrangle my scattered thoughts back into one direction.

“Rio, you can’t,” I protest. “You can’t risk your sister’s life for me.”

The muscle in his jaw pulsates, and his dark eyes bore into mine. I’ve no idea what the hell he’s thinking.

He swallows. “I’ll figure something out with her. I think I know where she is.”

Then, it clicks.

“Let’s make a deal,” I rush out. “You help me get out of here, Z will save your sister. Tell me her name

and where she is, and he will get her out.”

His mouth opens and closes, and for the first time, I’ve made Rio speechless.

“You have yourself a deal.”

“Wait, my tracking device. I-I can’t leave with it in me.”

“Turn around,” he demands, swirling his finger. Biting my lip, I do as he says, shivering when he roughly sweeps my hair to the side.

“How are—” A sharp gasp cuts off my question when I feel something sharp slice and dig into the back of my neck.

“Jesus, a fucking warning next time,” I spit, cringing as the tip of the blade digs into my skin.

“He’s not here, mama, but I am. And I need you to stop wiggling.”

I huff, feeling warm liquid trailing down my back from the wound, and after several painful seconds, the metal pops out. He flicks the device onto my bed and then leans in, his breath brushing across the shell of my ear.

“Katerina Sanchez, she’s fifteen years old. I believe she’s with a groomer by the name of Lillian Berez. Last time I saw a picture of her was three months ago, and she was standing in front of a sunflower field.”

He releases me, and steps away while I turn to face him. “Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’ll make sure she’s safe.”

He gives me a look that tells me he’ll figure out a way to haunt me if I don’t. Maybe he’ll come to Parsons and join the rest of the ghosts in my house.

“One of Rocco’s friends is sleeping on the couch. Be quiet, and it should be fine. He’s out cold from the drugs.”

“Okay,” I nod, feeling a burst of gratitude that I’ve no idea how the fuck to express. He’ll probably smack me if I try. Rio hates any type of appreciation as much as he does attention. And maybe that’s more because he hates himself.

“Tell your man to give me a head start, yeah?” he says, backing away.

I frown. “Run fast.”

Slowly, his tongue swipes along his bottom lip, and his gaze drifts over me one last time as if committing me to memory.

“Bye, princesa.”

“Bye, Rio,” I whisper.