“Too bad.”
Legend steps closer. “You gave him exactly what he wanted.”
“I gave him a bloody mouth.”
“You gave him both.”
I look away.
Because I know.
That’s the problem. Everybody keeps being right today, and I’m tired of it.
Twila comes down the steps behind me. “You boys done measuring dicks, or should I open a conference room?”
Legend looks at her. “Thank you.”
Her brows lift. “That hurt you to say?”
“A little.”
“Good.”
Whiskey smiles again.
Twila catches it and points at him. “Don’t look pleased with yourself.”
“I was pleased with you.”
Her face hardens, but there is color high on her cheek. “That’s worse.”
Oaks mutters, “Lord, I can smell the trouble from here.”
Twila’s gaze snaps to him. “You volunteering for cuffs too?”
Brittany would probably pay to see that.
Oaks grins. “Depends. You got bigger ones?”
“Jesus,” Whiskey says.
Legend rubs his forehead. “Everybody shut up.”
Twila gives me one last look. “Go home, Derby. Stay there. If Vale pushes, document it. If he sends anything else, call it in. If you see him, walk away.”
I laugh.
She doesn’t.
“Walk away,” she repeats. “Or next time I make the paperwork stick long enough for you to miss whatever matters most.”
That lands.
She knows it.
Then she turns and walks back inside like she ain’t just kicked me where the bruises don’t show.
I watch her go.