But the truth is sitting there again, smug and dressed better than I like.
I look at Legend. “Get me the address.”
“Derby.”
“Address.”
“She is safe there.”
“Safe from Jeremy doesn’t mean safe from me losing my mind.”
“That’s your problem to handle.”
I laugh, sharp. “You want me to stay here?”
“I want you to think before you ride across the country full of jailhouse temper and betrayal.”
“Too late.”
Legend steps around the table. “Listen to me. Hot Mama’s place ain’t just a chapter. They run a women’s shelter out there. Half shelter, half rehab, half witchy spa. Women go in broken, get a crystal shoved up their cunt or whatever, and come back scary as hell.”
Holler sighs. “Lottie came back with the crown and two knives I still ain’t found.”
I don’t find this funny.
Not even a little.
“August is there?” I ask.
Legend nods. “With other kids. With women who know how to hide people. With enough guns and loyalty that Jeremy Vale would have better odds walking into a bear den wearing bacon pants.”
“Poetic,” Royal murmurs.
“Shut up,” half the room says.
I look at the table because if I look at any of them too long, I will start swinging.
She is safe.
August is safe.
The words should calm me.
They don’t.
Because safe means nothing if she thinks leaving me was the price.
I pull the note from my pocket and throw it on the table.
Legend looks at it.
Oaks reads it over his shoulder.
Holler mutters, “Damn.”
Whiskey’s face goes still.
Royal’s eyes go strange and dark.