Scarface didn’t miss a beat after I spoke. “You want the whole story? Then you give me something first—swear on whatever you hold dear you won’t spill this outside your own crew.”
Wren edged in closer, fingers twitching near her blade like she was itching for trouble. “That’s rich coming from the guy who drifted outta nowhere with just a spooky message.”
He just shrugged, cold as ice. “I’m not running a charity. The minute you know what I know, you’re a walking target, like it or not.”
I looked him up and down. He was way too chill for a guy sticking his neck out like this. “You get my word, I want more than scraps off your table.”
His lips twisted, scar yanking the corner up. “You’ll get the map, the names, the date. But I want something from you later—no questions, no whining.”
I sn
