"Stay here."

Dante was already sliding out of the booth, his hand resting on the gun tucked beneath his jacket. His eyes swept the diner, cataloging every exit, every customer, every potential threat.

Sienna grabbed his wrist. "This could be a trap."

"Everything's a trap at this point." But his grip on her hand tightened for just a second before he let go. "If I'm not back in five minutes, run. Get out through the kitchen and don't look back."

"Dante..."

"Five minutes, Sienna."

He walked toward the back of the diner, past the counter where Betty was refilling sugar dispensers, past the single bathroom door marked with a faded...