Elijah Vega.
I’m sitting at the bottom of Paloma’s apartment staircase, elbows on knees. She’s not home. Eva’s not here either. I think they mentioned something this morning about checking out buildings, but I thought she’d be back by now.
I’ve been watching pigeons s**t on the sidewalk for half an hour, wondering what the hell my plan is. There isn’t one. My brain’s blank. I can’t think of a single move to save the only woman I’ve ever given a damn about.
Enid’s going to open his damn mouth soon. A few days, maybe. That’s all I’ve got left before he runs to the Don and drops Paloma’s name. Unless I say yes to this engagement with Pasiphae. I nearly laugh loud.
Me. Engaged. To anyone who isn’t Paloma? I’d rather put a bullet through my skull.
But what do I do? Tell her? Tell Paloma t
