Evan stayed tense.

“However.” René stopped, his back to her. “One of the many benefits of money is that I can commission people anywhere in the world.”

Despi blanched.

Slowly, he turned. “Say, in Rhodes. Athens.” He held out his hand, palm up. One of the narcos placed an iPad on it.

“No.” Despi shook her head. “No, no, no.”

René hummed to himself as he tapped the screen. He held up the device for Despi. Evan couldn’t see what it held, but he saw the glow reflected in Despi’s eyes.

The impact on her was immediate. She took a half step back as if staggered by a punch. Her face shifted, hollowed out beneath the skin, her eyes sunken and glazed.

René swiped a finger across the screen, bringing up the next image.

She strangled a small noise in her throat. Her words came in a hoarse whisper: “No. Not her, too.” She hunched over, her shoulders shuddering. She made sounds befitting war zones and hospital rooms.

Guilt flared up inside Evan, scouring his insides, threatening to consume him.

“Not a hair on your head will be touched. As promised. In fact, you’re free to go.” René rested a hand on Despi’s forearm. “Dex will drop you at an airport of your choice with a full wallet. By helping my guest, you’ve earned your freedom. I hope it was worth it.”

Despi straightened back up. Her face was flushed, streaked with tears, but her gaze was fierce, unbroken.

René said, “I’ll even let you say good-bye to your friend before you depart.” He gestured toward the wrestling mat.

Despi’s stare skewered René. For a moment he even seemed unsettled.

Then she started over to Evan. She looked broken from within, her limbs held at the wrong angles, her gait and carriage different, as if she were learning to walk inside a new body. René indicated for his men to give them some space.

Evan wasn’t sure if she was going to strike him. If she wanted to, he would let her. Instead she embraced him, squeezing him hard, her face mashed to his chest.

He stroked her thick, thick hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered into her. “I tried to warn you.”

He was shocked at the note of anger that had found its way into his voice. Fire crawled across his skin, matting his shirt to his back. Everything felt jumbled together inside him, trespasses past and present. He pictured Jack clutching at the ball of his shoulder, his hand gloved in blood. A little more pressure, a little more time and he might have lived. If Evan hadn’t asked him to meet. If they’d chosen a different day, a different hour, a different parking structure. If Evan had been quicker on the draw. If he hadn’t taken the car jack. If he’d thrown Despi out of his room.