Royal finds me near the back office. He doesn’t waste time.
“She had company,” he says.
“You got cameras in my house now?” I ask dryly.
“No,” he replies. “But Bethany ain’t subtle.”
I lean back in the chair across from his desk and stretch my legs out like we’re discussing weather instead of my marriage.
“She don’t embarrass you?” he asks.
“Nothing about this surprises me.”
Royal studies me in that quiet way he does, like he’s peeling layers back to see what’s under the cut and the reputation. “You still pretending Brittany don’t matter?” he asks.
My jaw tightens in spite of myself. “This ain’t about her.”
“It’s always about her lately.”
I don’t answer right away. Outside the office, somebody laughs too loud. The bass from the speakers rattles the doorframe. It’s the kind of sound that makes men think the world can’t touch them.
“Hell still quiet?” I ask instead.
“Hell no,” Royal says. “Legend’s tightening routes. He’s heartbroken over Sophie. She’s gone missing. Pearly Gates sniffing around. It’s gonna be all out war with them if he findsthey’re involved. We don’t need a domestic mess stacked on top of that.”
“I ain’t bringing one.”
“You think Bethany won’t?”
That hangs between us, sharp as wire.
“She already wants blood,” Royal continues. “Yours or the girl’s.”
I push to my feet. “Then let her think what she wants.”
Royal’s eyes narrow. “You playing that game on purpose?”
“If it keeps Brittany off their radar, yeah.”
He exhales through his nose. “You can’t protect someone by making them look guilty.”
“Watch me,” I say, because I’ve made worse plans with less time.
I start working out at Iron Forge instead of the Lockup gym.
The first night I walk in, the girl at the front desk nearly drops her pen when she sees the cut on my shoulder.
“Didn’t know you worked out here,” she says, eyes bright like she just found a new hobby.
“I don’t,” I reply, scanning the room without turning my head too obvious.
And there she is.
Brittany. On a treadmill near the back, earbuds in, ponytail swinging with each step. She looks thinner. Tighteraround the edges. Like she’s bracing for something she hasn’t told anyone about. Like she’s trying to outrun it in place.
I force myself not to stare.
Instead, I lean an elbow on the counter and give the desk girl a lazy half smile. “Guess I needed a change of scenery.”
