Page 74 of South of Justice

Through the door, she could just hear the soft murmur of voices. Ryan and the boy. Noah’s voice, light and tentative: a question about the safehouse generator. A joke from Ryan, followed by a quiet laugh.

The boy was safe now. Her role in the rescue mission was over. Her gaze fell to the laptop. And there was nothing to shield her from the thing she had to face. The ledger. Javier’s empire in 1s and 0s. And the digital noose she’d been carrying around for over nine years.

She dragged a hand through her hair. Her shoulder still ached. It was healing, but slow. Every jolt of pain reminded her of Ryan, of how he’d tried to patch her up on the side of thatroad outside Salina Cruz. Of how he’d risked his own freedom to accept help from Gates. Of how he’d sat by her bedside, the worry etched on his face.

Of how he’d been so gentle with her when he’d kissed her…

And thekiss…

Lucía closed her eyes. She could still feel the heat of it. The grip of his hand at her jaw. The feel of his tongue in her mouth, hot and wet and so hungry for more.

But that had been adrenaline, she told herself. Fear. Relief. Biology.

Distraction, as a form of protection.

She wasn’t foolish enough to imagine a life with a man like that. Not with what was coming. Because tomorrow they’d go their separate ways. Gates would take Noah north, back over the border and hopefully back to his home. Ryan would face whatever consequences awaited him for putting his trust in Gates.

And she?—

She would become smoke again.

Literally. Because she had no real plan. Just the ledger and the long shadow of Javier Esquivel.

She leaned forward, pulled the laptop closer, and flipped it open. The screen lit her face in blue. She needed to finish what Mateo died for. She needed to bring it down.

Even if it meant burning everything with it.

A soft knock at the door broke her concentration. Ryan’s voice, low and cautious, filtered through. “Lucía?”

She quickly wiped her hands on her jeans before opening the door. Ryan stood there, looking at her with quiet concern. She forced a smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m fine.”

He stepped into the room, his gaze flicking to the laptop on the bed, then back to her. “You don’t look fine.”

Ryan’s boots scuffed softly against the wood floor as he stepped into the room. “Want to talk about it?”

Lucía shook her head once, sharp and dismissive. “There’s nothing to talk about. I’m okay, I’m just thinking.”

“You’re shaking.”

She looked down. Her fingers were clenched so tightly that her knuckles had gone white.

He crossed his arms but didn’t move closer. “I’ve seen this before. When the pressure gets high enough?—”

“You think this is me being emotional.”

“No,” Ryan said quietly. “I think this is you being human.”

She wanted to snap at him, to throw something—maybe the laptop—and march out. But instead, her throat tightened. She looked away, blinking fast. “The final piece of the ledger…” she started, then stopped.

Ryan didn’t push. He waited.

Lucía swallowed. “It’s not just data. It’s not just some string of characters. It’s tied to my past. My mistakes. Everything I built, everything I destroyed. It’s in me, and I can’t take it out without tearing something open.”

She hadn’t meant to say that much. The room felt suddenly too small. “It was supposed to be justice. But it feels like grief now. All of it.”

Ryan unfolded his arms and stepped forward, slow, careful, like she was a wire about to snap. He didn’t touch her; he just stood close enough to make her feel it. “What happens if you use it?”

Lucía’s jaw clenched. “Everything changes.”