The red dots painted targets across all our chests.
Three laser sights centered on me. I watched them dance across my heart like deadly stars, and all I could think was how stupid I had been. Tommy stood over three bodies—men I knew, men who had protected me growing up—with a gun in his hand and pride on his face.
"Tommy," I said, surprised my voice stayed steady. "What did you do?"
"What I had to do, Miss Eva." He gestured at the corpses with his gun. "They figured out I was working with the Sinaloa Cartel. Started asking questions. So I gave them answers." He smiled. "Permanent ones."
My father made a sound like a wounded animal. "You killed Reaper brothers."
"They were not my brothers. Just obstacles." Tommy's eyes were cold, nothing like the kid who used to ask me for college advi
