Page 50 of Queen of Ruin

“I do,” Diego admits. “But that’s not my pressing concern right now. Staying alive with you is.” He picks up some bacon and moans slightly when it snaps against his teeth. “Mmm, so good.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” I say between mouthfuls. “What if we stop running?”

He pauses tearing into his pancakes and stares at me. “What?”

“Not in a way that puts us in danger,” I clarify quickly. “But I was thinking about what triggered my memory. Being at the scene of the crash helped. Seeing my name on that card helped as well. Maybe… maybe if we can talk to someone and find out why they’re after me, it might unlock something.”

Diego scoffs. “They don’t strike me as the kind of people who’d want to have a conversation. Did you forget that they tried to kill us?”

“I know. I’m not saying we just go up to them and ask, but surely, there's a way we can make contact that keeps us in control and safe. Maybe…” I sigh, struggling to untangle any sort of plan in my mind. “Okay, I haven’t thought that far, but it’s got to be worth a try, right?”

He eats slowly as if mulling over all my words, then he finally nods after finishing his last piece of bacon. “You… have a point. Especially with how your previous memories triggered. I…” He rests his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together over his plate, then rests his chin atop his fingers. “I have the cop's number.”

My brows lift. “What?”

“He called me. Left a weakly threatening voicemail.” Diego snorts. “We could use that, though. He might know nothing, but he’s the only contact we’ve got. I could call him and pretend I’ve turned on you, set up a meeting to discuss a handover or something.”

“That could work.” I nod eagerly.

“But that would rely on you.” He points at me. “And however you trigger those cool moves you make, because subduing him isn’t something I can do.”

I smirk around my mouthful. “Put yourself in danger like last time and I’m sure it’ll trigger my reflexes.”

“Risk my life to see you kicking ass,” Diego hums. “That’s a little insane.”

“But hot,” I remind him. “Isn’t that what you said last time?”

He rolls his eyes with a cheeky smile and leans back in the booth. “I never should have told you that.”

“I’m glad you did.” Warmth blooms in my chest once more. “It felt good. Before that, I just sort of felt… sickly and pathetic.”

“Recovering from what you’ve been through doesn’t make you either of those things.”

“I know but…” I cut myself off as a pulse of tension rocks me to my core.

Behind Diego’s head, the door to the cafe swings open and two burly men clad in leather jackets walk inside. They’re both so large that the air suddenly feels thin. One’s as bald as the eggs cracked to make the pancakes, while the other has greasy, dark hair scraped back into a bun. They glance around and then lock eyes with me.

“Diego…” I murmur.

He turns in his seat and tenses like the snap of a board, but before he can stand, the two men are at our booth. One of them brandishes a thick shotgun, immediately pressing the barrel to Diego’s chest.

“Gentlemen,” Diego says, unable to fully mask the tremor in his voice. “Can I help you?”

“They match?” The bald, shotgun-wielding man glances at his partner, who stares down at his phone, then back up at both of us.

“Yup. He matches the photo,” he replies.

“Photo?” I choke out as pressure tingles at my fingertips. “What photo?”

The greasy-haired man flashes his phone at me while the bald man grabs Diego by the front of his shirt and hauls him out of the booth.

“Hey, easy!” Diego barks out.

On the screen is a picture of Diego, snapped from a distance when he wasn’t looking. “Bounty,” the greasy man declares. “For him. And a bonus for you, pretty lady.” He motions at me with one thick finger. “Up.”

20

DIEGO