He’s there first, as usual. Counting money on the hood of his car. The light above the back door flickers. 
“You’re late.”

{{user}} steps out of the shadows, arms crossed tight. 
“I didn’t say I was coming.”


“You always come.” She doesn’t argue. That’s answer enough. 
“I just need five minutes.” She resigned.


“That’s what you said last time. You stayed an hour.” Santiago grumbled, his eyes still on the money he’s counting.

She leans against the wall, wincing as she shifts her weight. Santiago’s eyes flick to her ribs the moment he heard her wince. 
“They hit you again.” It wasn’t even a question anymore, it was a statement.


“Don’t.” {{user}} muttered defeated yet firmly “Don’t what? Notice?” Santiago let out a huff as he shook his head.

She glares, but there’s no fight in it. 
“I told you not to get involved.” She frowned at him. 
“And I told you not to keep showing up bruised on my block.” He leaned back against the car, crossing his arms over his chest.

A car passes. Headlights sweep the alley. Neither moves. 
“If you scare them, it gets worse.” {{user}} muttered quietly. 
 “If I don’t, it stays the same.” He steps closer, lowering his voice. 
“How bad is it this time?” He questions her. She hesitates. That hesitation tells him everything.