“And the cult.”
The word cut through the fog sharper than whiskey ever had.
I turned my head just enough to look at him. “What kind of information?”
“The kind that says this isn’t just about your pride gettin’ bruised,” Devil replied. “And the kind that says Lark might be in real trouble whether she wants to be or not.”
I scoffed, the sound hollow. “She’s a grown woman. She made her choices.”
Devil finally looked at me then. Really looked. “She made a choice to survive once already,” he said. “That don’t mean she’s free of it.”
My jaw tightened. “You said Ash has information. So say it.”
“He won’t over the phone,” Devil said. “He wants Church. And I want you clear-headed. Want you listening instead of spiraling.”
I laughed under my breath and pushed the glass away an inch. “That ship sailed.”
“No,” Devil said firmly. “It didn’t.”
He straightened, squarin’ up in front of me now. Not looming. Not threatenin’. Just immovable.
“You’ve been drinking for four days,” he went on. “You’ve been writing your own version of events because it hurts less than not knowing. And you’ve been real damn close to crossing lines I can’t pull you back from.”
I bristled. “You think I don’t know that?”
“I think you don’t care right now,” he shot back. “And that’s the problem. Be thankful Lark’s still alive to get answers because we’re not all that fucking lucky.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy.
Finally, Devil spoke again, quieter this time. “Ash wouldn’t want to talk in person if he didn’t have important info.”
My chest went tight. “What are you sayin’?” I bit out.
“I’m saying you don’t know a damn thing yet,” Devil replied. “And neither do I. That’s why we need you sober and thinking.”
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaustion weighin’ heavy. “And if I don’t like what Ash has to say?”
“Then you deal with it,” Devil said evenly. “Clear-headed. Not drunk. Not reckless.”
He nudged the glass farther away from me. “You’re done drinkin’.”
I looked at the bar. The bottle. The easy numbness waitin’ there if I reached for it. I exhaled slow and pushed the glass away myself.
“Where’s Ash?” I asked.
Devil’s shoulders eased just a fraction. “On his way. Wants to talk tonight.”
I nodded once. “Get me some coffee.”
Devil gave a short grunt. “That I can do.”
As he walked off, I leaned back on the stool, head thumpin’, thoughts startin’ to line up whether I liked it or not.
I didn’t know what Ash was about to tell us. Didn’t know if it would change anythin’. But for the first time since the motel, I wasn’t runnin’ from the truth anymore.
And whatever it was?
I was gonna face it sober.
