Catherine

Nina

“What’s this?”

“What’s what?” Rosa asked, raising another spoonful of cereal to her mouth.

“What the hell is this, Rosa?” I snapped.

My tone was sharp enough to slice through the quiet morning. Her head shot up, eyes widening when she saw what I held. In an instant, she was on her feet—anger flaring hot in her eyes.

“Were you in my room? Who gave you permission to go through my stuff? You have no right!”

I rolled my eyes. “I have every right to know why there’s blood money under my roof.”

“Your roof? Seriously?” she scoffed.

My fingers curled into a fist at my side as I tossed the bundle of cash onto the worn kitchen table.

“Yes, Rosa. My roof. You haven’t contributed a dime to rent, utilities, or even the damn groceries in months.”

“If you’re just going to rub it in my face, then I’ll leave,” she snarled, snatching up the cash and turning for the door.

I stepped in front of her. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me where you got that money. That’s over ten thousand dollars in crisp notes.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, eyes rolling toward the ceiling. “My boyfriend gave it to me. Happy?”

“What boyfriend? Simon?” I huffed. “How the hell did Simon get this kind of money? Last I checked, he was a deadbeat leeching off you.”

“He wasn’t a damn leech.” She stepped closer, her teeth bared in fury. “And it wasn’t Simon. It’s my new boyfriend, Manuel.”

My mind raced. Then it clicked.

“Manuel? As in one of those cartel thugs? First it was the bikers, now it’s the goddamn cartel. Are you crazy, Rosa? You’re going to get yourself killed rolling with that SOB!”

“Don’t insult him! He loves me, and I love him too. He’s going to marry me and get me out of this dreary life,” she shot back. “I’m sick of living like this—this tiny, shitty apartment, eating instant noodles and stale cereal. I’m sick of wearing two-dollar pants and cutting my own hair. Manuel is going to—”

“Manuel isn’t going to do shit but get you killed.” I jabbed a finger into her chest. “If you’re sick of anything, it should be the men who keep promising to save you. Open your eyes, Rosa. The only person who can save you is yourself. And if you want to do that, you’ll have to get off your ass and work.”

She threw her head back and laughed. “You’ve been working all these years. What’s that gotten you?”

“A life.”

She glanced around our cramped apartment with a sneer. “You call this a life? You’re pathetic.”

My heart hammered as she brushed past me toward the door.

“If you walk out that door, Rosa, we’re done,” I said, my voice trembling despite my best effort to sound firm. “My life is already hard enough without having to drop everything to save you again.”

The words hit the air like a gunshot. My chest rose and fell quickly, tears burning at the back of my eyes.

I hadn’t wanted it to come to this, but I couldn’t keep enabling her. Every time my phone rang, it was Rosa—needing help, needing rescue. I loved her, but I resented her too.

“Are you serious right now?” she whispered.

“Dead serious,” I said quietly. “Don’t call me when you get in trouble this time. You want Manuel? Fine. But it’s either that life or this one—there’s no in-between.”

For a moment, her gaze softened. For a heartbeat, I thought she might stay. But then her jaw set hard.

“Fine. I’ll come get my things later. Fuck you, Nina.”

“Where are you even going?”

“To Ortega!” she snapped.

“Rosa—” I called, but the door slammed before I could finish. The sound made me flinch.

Sighing, I grabbed my bag and coat and rushed out. By the time I got downstairs, she’d already jumped into a cab and disappeared down the street. Going after her wasn’t an option—I was already late for my shift.

I turned the other way and hurried toward the restaurant.

Six hours later, my phone lit up with Rosa’s name. I rolled my eyes, ignored the call, and went back to cleaning the table.

“Who keeps calling you?” my coworker and friend Katy asked as she passed. “Do you have an admirer I don’t know about?”

I laughed. “Just my sister. We had a fight earlier, and I don’t want to talk to her right now. She’s always so stubborn and unreasonable.”

“Family can be a pain in the ass,” she said, grimacing. “By the way, did you hear?”

I glanced up curiously. “Hear what?”

Lowering her voice, she tugged me toward the corner where no one could overhear. “You know how things have been tense lately—with all the cartel movement?”

“Yeah?”

“You know that new guy I’ve been seeing? He works at the bathhouse, and he overheard some cartel guys talking.” Her eyes were wide, a mix of excitement and fear. “There’s going to be a drug trade tonight at that new club—and it’s going to get messy. Like, a bloodbath.”

“What new club?” I asked.

“Uh… what’s it called again? Yeah—Ortega.”

Something prickled at the back of my mind.

Where had I heard that name before?

“That’s the club where Manuel and his lackeys—”

The rest of her words faded as realization struck like a knife.

Rosa was in danger.