Jeremy’s face hardens now. “I’m trying to find my wife and child.”
“Your wife left,” Legend says.
“She is confused.”
“She looked clear to me.”
“She is emotionally unstable.”
My temper slips its leash a notch.
I step closer to the gate. “Say that again.”
Jeremy’s gaze snaps to mine. “Excuse me?”
“I said, say that again. About her being unstable.”
Legend says my name once. “Derby.”
I stop at the gate, fingers hooked through the wet metal.
Jeremy looks at my hands, then my face.
He doesn’t repeat it.
Smart man.
Coward too.
“I know what this looks like,” he says, softer now, aiming past us, toward the clubhouse. “I know Amelia is upset. She and I had an argument. Married couples argue. She got overwhelmed, packed some things, and left with our son in the middle of the night. That is not safe behavior. I’m not angry. I’m worried.”
My stomach turns.
Not angry.
Worried.
I wonder how many times Amelia heard that right before he punished her.
Behind us, the clubhouse door opens.
My head turns.
Amelia stands in the doorway.
Barefoot.
Wearing Sophie’s too-short pajama pants and a loose shirt. Her hair falls around her face, still messy from sleep or tears. Her arms are wrapped around herself even though Sophie stands right behind her and there are at least twenty armed men between her and Jeremy.
She looks small.
No.
Not small.
Made small.
There is a difference, and it lights something mean inside me.