Page 150 of Outspoken

Every worry and fear that’s been eating at my thoughts all day suddenly vanishes. I take a calming breath because I need it. Then I grin at him, not hiding how happy I am. “Okay.”

He unzips his bag and pulls out the handgun, pushing it toward me.

My expression drops and I stare at it, trying not to have flashbacks.I hate guns.

“The safety is on,” he says.

I nod, taking it from him. I’m the adult. I can handle holding a gun for a few minutes until we get outside.

But I really can’t, so I return it to the backpack.

“Can I just borrow this?”

He stands, flicking cockroaches from his jeans. “Yeah.”

The blood drains from my body, and I’m brought right back to reality, realizing I also have cockroaches on my jeans. I shoot to my feet, caught between screaming and flailing around. I’m trembling with indecision, so Angel knocks the roaches off for me.

“We need to go,” I tell him, shouldering the backpack. “Like,now.”

He nods, smirking.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Miguel

PACING IN FRONT OF THE rental car, I check my phone again. Fifteen minutes and no texts from Amber.I’m going in.

As I take a step, Amber walks from the building, followed by Angel. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding. My legs wobble, and I feel like falling to my knees, tipping my head to the sky and thanking Lupe and Santa Muerte for keeping both of them safe. I’ve never felt more relieved in my life. I’m able to fully expand my lungs again.

The energy pumping through me is erratic, though, and I can’t contain it. It fills my limbs, my head and heart. Worrying about my love in that crumbling, dark building, and thinking Angel would actually put that gun to his head—if he’d do it while Amber watched because I have no idea what’s going through his mind…I’m barely clinging on as feelings wreck me.

I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling, but it’s not good. It’s destructive. I want to puke and yell and collapse. I’ve never felt this way—this sickening, oppressive, soul-crushingchaos.

I walk to them as they walk to me. When I’m close enough, my voice is forceful as I demand, “Where’s the gun?”

Amber flinches and Angel looks unnerved.

I shove my hand forward, palm up. “Thegun.”

Amber snaps out of her shock and pulls the backpack off her shoulder. She hands it to me, staring. “Uh, in here.”

I snatch it and then storm to the car. Popping the trunk, I yank the backpack open so aggressively the zipper breaks. After checking the safety on the gun, I pop out the magazine, dropping everything in the trunk and slamming it closed.

When I walk back to them, Angel has inched closer to Amber. His body is rigid and preparing to run.

I don’t hold back. I can’t. I’m too wrecked, and my voice is booming when I say to him, “What thefuckwere you thinking?”

He flinches and moves closer to Amber, clearly disturbed and wanting to cling to her for safety.

Amber’s mouth drops open and she glares at me hard. “Jesus, Miguel. Take a step back. Don’t fucking yell at him.”

Squeezing my hands into fists, I inhale a few shaky breaths.

I could have lost Angel today. I’m supposed to be taking better care of him. Mom trusted me. She believed in me. And I’ve done a miserable job.

He’s my family. I almost lost him.

My heart beat is wild. I swallow, staring at him and the fear in his eyes. Then I glance at Amber, who is fuming.

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