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Isabella’s grip on my hand tightens. I meet her gaze, those blue eyes full of empathy.

“And my older brother,” I continue, the words coming easier now, “he went out the way a lot of us fear we might. Motorcycle crash. Patch on his back, wind in his hair, then…” I snap my fingers, the sound sharp in the quiet room. “Gone in an instant.”

“Ice,” she says softly, “aren’t you ever worried about ending up like them? About dying the same way?”

A wry smile tugs at my lips. “Honestly? I never think about it. Death’s coming for all of us. No point in worrying about when or how.”

She tilts her head, studying me. “That’s one way to look at it.”

I shrug, feeling the weight of my cut on my shoulders. “It’s the only way to live this life, Bella. You can’t ride if you’re always looking over your shoulder for the reaper.”

I climb onto the bed and pull Isabella into my arms. She snuggles against me, her fingers absently tracing the worn leather of my cut.

“What about you,” I ask. “Do you ever think about death?”

“Sometimes.” She’s quiet for a moment. “Sometimes I wonder if we go to another place after this. You know?”

I nod, encouraging her to continue.

“Myabuela,” Isabella says, a soft smile playing on her lips. “I’m sure she’s in Heaven, if such a place exists.” Her hand moves to the watch on her wrist, fingers caressing the smooth metal. “I like to think she’s there, watching over me.”

The vulnerability in her voice tugs at something deep inside me. I reach out, gently taking her hand in mine. “You think you’ll see her again someday?”

Isabella’s eyes meet mine, a mix of hope and sadness swirling in their depths. “I hope so,” she says. “If there is a Heaven, I’d like to think I’ll get to hug her again, smell her cooking, hear her laugh.” She pauses, then adds with a wry smile, “But I’m in no rush to find out, you know?”

I chuckle softly, understanding all too well. “Yeah, I get that.”

As we sit there, hands intertwined, I’m struck by how different our perspectives are. Isabella, with her faith in an afterlife, and me, living only for the moment. Yet somehow, in this dimly lit motel room, with the sounds of the city drifting through the window, our two worlds don’t seem so far apart. I’m starting to think she belongs in mine. She certainly doesn’t belong in Juan’s. He doesn’t know it yet, but she’s never going to become another one of his victims. He’ll have to kill me first.

Chapter 15: Isabella

The neon sign outside the NOLA Inn flickers, casting an eerie red glow through the thin curtains. I sit perched on the edge of Ice’s bed, my heart pounding. The room feels too quiet without his imposing presence. He left for a club meeting almost an hour ago, and I hate being alone. But he told me not to worry. There are prospects stationed outside the door to protect me. Still, it’s nothing like having Ice by my side.

My phone buzzes, Maria’s name flashing on the screen. I hesitate before answering the call.

“Isabella, what’s going on?” Maria’s voice is frantic, edged with worry. “Juan is furious. He’s saying you left the family. What happened?”

I take a deep breath. “It’s complicated, Maria. I just couldn’t take working for Juan, so I did something… risky.”

“Risky how?” she demands.

“I entered amateur night at Velvet,” I confess. “And I won.”

There’s a long pause. I can picture Maria’s shocked expression.

“You what?” she finally sputters. “Bella, that’s impressive, but why didn’t you tell me?”

I twist a strand of hair around my finger, guilt eating away at me. “I wanted to, but I was scared Juan would find out. You know how he is.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me.”

The hurt evident in her voice twists my heart into a knot. She’s my only real friend and I feel like I have betrayed her.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Things spiraled out of control so fast. Last night, Juan sent someone to follow me after my shift at the factory. I had to run.”

My mind flashes to the terrifying moment I realized I was being followed, the black SUV emerging from the shadows, and my desperate attempt to flee through winding alleys. I shudder.

“Ice helped me,” I continue. “He got me to safety.”