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doubt about it—I would have been fucking long gone. “Thank you, Soph,” I say quietly under my breath. “Thanks for not bailing on me.”
    Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her expression growing less worried and more irritated. “After what you said to me, I should have. My sister would have probably finished the job if you’d have said that to her. She’d have strangled you to death before you even had chance to bleed out.”
    “Then I’m glad I didn’t say it to her. And I’m sorry I said it to you. I shouldn’t have. I know you wouldn’t screw any of the guys.”
    “Then why say it? And why leave me here, trapped in this cabin for ten days, after I said I would help you in Alabama? It makes no sense. It’s just damn cruel, in fact.” She speaks slowly. I can tell she’s still furious but she keeps her voice down now. No more shouting and screaming. No more trying to pile drive her knee straight through my ribcage. Given her reaction earlier, I feel like making a show of cowering from her, but it’s probably still too early for jokes yet. Besides, I’d probably burst open my stitches if I move, and Cade will not be thrilled if I undo his handiwork. He’ll probably stab me all over again.
    “If my boys knew you were here, why you were here, or that Raphael is on the look out for you, they’ll want to use you somehow,” I explain. “They’ll want to use you as bait or something to lure Ramirez out, and I’m not taking that kind of chance.”
    Soph rests her chin on her knees, staring up at me on the bed. “Yeah. Well, I mean, I don’t want to be anywhere near Dela Vega or Ramirez again if I don’t have to be.” She sounds like even the prospect of running into either of those men is enough to give her nightmares. I’d be surprised if that’s not actually the case.
    “As soon as Raphael lays eyes on you here, Soph, that will be it. I know him. He’s a sick motherfucker. He won’t ever stop until he gets his hands on you.”
    Sophia shivers. Shakes her head, like she’s trying to shake the very memory of him out of her body. “Why would Ramirez follow you here? Why would he actually search you out? I don’t get it.”
    “We’re not playing hide and seek, Soph. Neither side wants to drag this out. The longer we’re at each other’s throats, the longer Ramirez can’t relax or conduct business without watching his back. The longer he can’t smuggle his drugs into the country. The longer he can’t focus on selling his women.”
    “And for you? What’s this war going to distract you from, Rebel?” she looks dubious.
    I smirk, thinking about shrugging my shoulders but then dismissing the idea as entirely not worth the accompanying pain. “The Widow Makers run guns. As an illegal trade, that’s how all the syndicates think we make our money. It’s how the ATF think but can’t prove we make our money. In reality, the Widowers trade in information more than anything else. Information is far more valuable than gold or silver, drugs or guns. It can build or collapse an empire overnight. The only thing more reliable for bringing a dangerous man to his knees is pussy. And, as you’re already aware, we don’t sell that .”
    “No,” she says, giving me a wry glance. “You only buy it.”
    “If I don’t, someone else will. Difference being is that I find secure, honest, healthy work for the women we pay for. They leave this compound untouched. If Julio had bought you for himself, guaranteed you’d have already been accosted more times than you could count, and by more men than you could count, too. Would you have preferred that?”
    Sophia remains silent. She glares at me like she hates me, but maybe, just maybe , like she’s also considering that I may have done her a favor. Doesn’t look like she’ll be admitting that any time soon, though. I pull in a deep breath, testing out how deeply I can fill my lungs without experiencing any sharp, crippling pain.
    “Ramirez is