Page 152 of Property of Whiskey

Bullet turns his head. “Back off.”

Royal’s eyebrows rise.

Legend doesn’t react.

Bullet clearly doesn’t give a shit.

“Too many people.”

Legend steps back.

Royal follows.

Becki catches Royal’s forearm and pulls him another foot away for good measure.

Smart woman.

Kaylee looks at me again.

“They sing.”

Beside me, Sophie’s posture changes.

I notice.

So does Whiskey.

“What do they sing?” I ask.

Kaylee rubs both hands over her arms. “At night.”

“Hymns?”

She nods. “Church songs.”

Bullet leans forward, his entire attention narrowed onto her.

Kaylee looks toward the doorway.

“But wrong.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“They sing them wrong.”

Something hits the floor in the hall.

Glass breaks.

Everybody turns.

Cider stands beyond Royal, pale beneath the yellow hallway light, her dark hair hanging loose around a face that suddenly looks years younger.

I know her too. Not well. Nobody really knows Royal’s sister Cider anymore.

Not since she came back.

Royal turns toward her. “Cider?”