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Ending the call, I slide the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. I glance around the cottage, its quaintness a stark contrast to the gritty reality I’m entangled in. There are choices we make that can’t be undone, paths that once taken alter everything. This is one of them.

With resolve solidifying in my chest, I head into my bedroom to change out of my pajamas. Every step is a silent vow to keep Ice safe. I’ll stop Juan, protect Ice, protect what little good is left in this twisted world of ours.

I slip into my leather jacket, the one that hugs my curves and makes me feel like a warrior. It’s silly, but I need that armor as I prepare to navigate the treacherous waters beyond my cottage. My hands are steady, but my heart’s a wild thing in my chest.

Glancing out my bedroom window toward my brother’s house, I look for any sign of movement. The compound isshrouded in shadows, with only the occasional flicker of a guard’s cigarette breaking the darkness. Juan might be under the impression all is well, but I’m not naive enough to think he wouldn’t have eyes on me. Still, something tells me tonight I’ve got a window of opportunity, and I can’t waste it.

I consider grabbing a duffel bag and stuffing it with essentials, just in case. But no, that would be giving in to paranoia. If things go south, if I can’t come back… I push the thought away. I’m not running, I’m setting things right. Ice needs to know what Juan is planning, and I’m the only one who can tell him. No one will ever know that I warned Ice. If UVMC happens to have extra security for the next few weeks, Juan can’t possibly trace it back to me.

When I reach the front door, my hand hesitates on the doorknob. A final moment of doubt whispers through me. What if Juan suspects something? What if this is the last time I step out of the relative safety of my home?

I shake off the fear. I must believe my brother’s arrogance has blinded him, and that his confidence in his little sister’s obedience is my secret weapon.

“I’ll be home soon.” At least, I hope I will.

I step out, letting the door close with a soft click behind me. The night air is thick with the scent of the bayou, mingling with the distant sounds of New Orleans nightlife. It’s a familiar symphony, one that now seems to carry a sinister undertone.

As my car purrs to life, I look at the windows in Juan’s house. They remain dark. It’s a good sign, but I won’t breathe freely until I get through the gate.

The guards seem unfazed. They wave me through without bothering to exit the guard shack. That tells me everything I need to know. Juan still trusts me, or he would have instructed them not to let me pass.

“He won’t even notice I’m gone,” I whisper, praying that it’s the truth.

I reach the edge of the compound, where Los Serpientes de Cristal’s world ends and the rest of New Orleans begins. I glance back once, wondering if this will be the last time I see my home. Then, with the image of Ice’s piercing gaze etched in my mind, I drive away. This is the first time I’ve tried to interfere with my brother’s business, but I must step in. I can’t sit around doing nothing while he destroys more lives. It’s not right, and it ends now. I just hope I don’t pay the ultimate price for my disobedience.

Chapter 9: Ice

The damp Louisiana air clings to my skin as I stand in the poorly lit parking lot of Voodoo Velvet. The neon sign buzzes overhead, casting a lurid glow on the asphalt. I stand like a statue among shadows, waiting as every second stretches into a lifetime. Tank and Vicki should’ve been here by now, and Isabella… her safety weighs heavy on my mind. My guts tighten in anticipation, the kind of tension that comes before a storm or a fight.

Headlights cut a path through the darkness. I immediately recognize Isabella’s car because I’ve secretly watched her walk to it after she got off work. Some of the pressure in my belly dissipates. She parks in the shadows near my bike. I circle around to open her door. Maybe it’s old-fashioned, but I don’t care.

Isabella looks up at me and an entirely different kind of tension constricts my groin. I can’t focus on anything but the curve of her soft lips and the memory of how good they felt against my mouth. I want to kiss her again, but the fear in her eyes stops me.

I hold out a hand, hoping she will take it. I’m elated when she does. The way she moves is cautious, like she’s worried about every move she makes, but there’s no threat here. I’ve already scanned the area. Twice.

“Isabella,” I murmur, helping her from the car.

“Ice,” she whispers.

When she stands and wraps her arms around my torso, it’s impossible to ignore the stirring in my blood. She ignites a primal reaction, but I shove it down and lock it away. What I want isn’t what I need right now. Based on what Tank told me, she’s got information about something her brother’s planning. Whatever it is, it can’t be good.

Her eyes find mine, and there’s a moment, just a flicker, where I see something raw and unguarded before a mask of concern falls into place.

“Ice,” she says, her voice steady, “I’m so glad you came. Juan’s planning something. It’s about your clubhouse.”

“Before we get into that, tell me, are you okay?” I ask, stepping forward, ready to shield her from whatever hell is nipping at her heels.

“I’m fine,” she says softly. “But I’m worried about you.”

The rumble of a motorcycle cuts through the silence. I turn to see Tank’s big frame maneuvering into the lot. Vicki’s riding bitch behind him, clutching his waist. The pair slides off the bike with a practiced ease that speaks of countless rides together. They’re here, so it’s time for Isabella to tell us what the hell’s going on.

“She said Juan was planning something,” Tank says as he slides his hand into Vicki’s. “Did she tell you anything yet?”

“No. Just got here.” I turn to Isabella, wanting to take her hand in mine, but knowing better than to do it. I don’t want to convey our relationship to Tank and Vicki yet. Hell, I’m not even sure if what happened in the VIP room constitutes the start of one. Maybe it was just sex for her. She could have gotten just as carried away as I did. But I hope she doesn’t regret it, because I don’t.

Isabella looks between Tank and me, her blue eyes dark pools in the neon-lit night. Vicki gives her an encouraging smile,making me thankful I relented and let Tank talk me into letting her come.

“Go on,chica,” Vicki prompts.