Page 141 of The Devil's Thorn

I rolled my mother’s bracelet between my fingers now, the silver catching the light. I’d packed it at the very top of my bag, tucked in the lining of my coat. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was sentimental. But I wasn’t going without it.

“Iz,” Kellan’s voice broke through my thoughts. “You ready?”

I turned toward him and Ash. They were already dressed, black duffel bags slung over their shoulders. Matching expressions—calm, focused, but alert.

“As ready asI’ll ever be,” I muttered, grabbing my leather jacket off the hook and tossing my phone in my bag. “Let’s go ruin someone’s day.”

Ash smirked as he grabbed one of my suitcases, and Kellan lifted the other. I took one last glance around the apartment. Everything was silent. Still.

But something in my chest stirred. Not nerves. Not fear. Readiness.

I locked the door behind me and followed them to the elevator.

The elevator hummed as it descended. The silence between the three of us was comfortable. Heavy, maybe—but not suffocating.

I leaned against the mirror-lined wall, arms crossed, my fingers lightly tapping my jacket sleeve as my thoughts wandered. We were about to get on a plane to Colombia with a man I still hadn’t decided whether I was going to eventually kill.

Fun.

Kellan broke the silence first, his voice low. “You sure about this?”

I glanced at him through the mirror’s reflection, my eyes cool. “Sure about what? Trusting Rafael or going to Colombia?”

Ash gave a low chuckle from the corner, arms folded across his chest. “Those feel like the same question.”

I didn’t answer. Because the truth was—I wasn’t sure. Not about any of it. But it didn’t matter. I was going either way.

The kill switch flipped years ago,I thought.I just never flipped it back.

The elevator dinged and opened into the garage, the scent of oil and concrete wafting in. We all moved at once—like muscle memory. Kellan opened the trunk while Ash slung both duffels in with one hand and then dropped my suitcase next to his.

The car door shut behind me with a soft click, and I sank into the seat, exhaling through my nose as Kellan climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine. Ash slid in beside me, resting an arm on the door, tapping against the glass rhythmically with his fingers.

Kellan pulled up the location Rafael had sent him last night. It was encrypted through a burner app, the kind only people with dangerous lives and expensive toys used.

The car hummed down the ramp and into the city streets.

“Do you think it’s really cartel we’re dealing with?” Ash asked after a few minutes, his voice low but sharp.

“If it is,” Kellan answered, eyes on the road, “we’re not going for a casual drop-off. Cartel doesn’t just do dinner meetings and parting handshakes.”

I stayed silent, watching the city pass by through the window.

“It’s probably a warning,” I said eventually. “A show of strength. Or a power move. Rafael doesn’t do anything without a reason.”

Ash looked over at me. “And what reason areyougoing for?”

My eyes flicked to him. “To make sure he doesn’t get himself killed before I get the truth out of him.”

He didn’t press further. He never did when I answered like that.

We drove for a while in silence after that. The further we went, the more industrial the outskirts became. Buildings gave way to open space, long stretches of tarmac and metal fences.

When we finally pulled up to the private runway, the first thing I saw was the jet. Sleek, matte black, engines still, but ready. The type of jet that didn’t ask permission to take off.

The second thing I saw washim.

Rafael stood near the plane, dressed in dark jeans and a tailored black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He was talking on the phone, his expression sharp, one hand in his pocket, the other holding the phone to his ear. A few of his men stood around him, all alert.