The tiny basement room fell dead quiet. The hum of the light bulb was the only sound left in there.
Ava didn't blink. Her finger rested over the screen of her phone, waiting for the decision. On the steel table between them, the cotton swab sat inches from the picture of little Leo smiling in his stroller.
Ryder stared at his son's face. His chest felt tight, like someone was wrapping thick wires around his lungs.
Every instinct in his body screamed at him to speak. He wanted to give her the warehouse, and the new stash houses, alongside whoever she wanted to hear about. He wanted to tell her about the docks, about James, about the crates. He wanted to save his boy. He wanted to keep Maya safe in that house.
Then he saw Arslan's face in his head.
