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“You get used to it.” I take another bite, and he nods at the burrito.

“The girls found you, I see.”

“Yep. They’re in there talking about—”Your massive dick, I don’t say, “—well, stuff no one wants to hear. Not even me. And Verity’s feeding the baby, which is still touch-and-go, so we may want to give her a few minutes.”

“Cool. Remy and Nick are parking the car.” He sits in the hard chair across from me, stretching his legs out, and I change the subject. “What’s the news on Ballsack?”

Sy looks almost as tired as I feel, and I find myself curious about what a night in the city lockup with a couple dozen of your own frat brothers even looks like. “It’s not good,” he begins, crossing his arms in a way that signals discomfort more than machismo. “They’ve got hard evidence on him this time, and I’m not sure it’ll be easy to beat.”

I frown. “What evidence?”

His eyebrows crouch low. “Our lawyer says there was blood at the scene of the crime. Specifically, Ballsy’s blood on Laura’s teeth.”

“Her teeth?” My blood runs cold. “So he did it?”

Sy’s face snaps with shock. “Fuck no, he didn’t do it. The coroner puts the time of death at about thirty-six hours ago, but they searched him over twice and couldn’t even find a break in his skin, let alone a bite wound.” Sy’s eyes skitter around the hall, a touch of paranoia in them. “Simply put, he’s being framed for this. Someone in Forsyth wants this pointed in our direction.”

“But,” I argue, “if he doesn’t have any wounds, then how would someone even get his blood?—”

My pulse stutters as it hits me.

The blood drive.

The samples I took.

The realization my little scheme may have played a part in this slams into me like a sack of bricks.Mayis the operative word here. Who would have gotten access to it? And how? It feels like a stretch to me, which means Knight will just think it’s bullshit. And if Ballsack is being framed, then that just puts me as a suspect—the person with access to his blood.

Motherfuck.

“Hell if I know,” Sy says, rubbing his face, “but we’ll deal with it. The lawyer is top-notch. One of Saul’s scumbags, so that’s good.” He looks over my shoulder, and I glance back, seeing Remy and Nick approaching. “The girls are down there now, and Verity’s feeding the baby.”

“Got it.” Remy jerks his chin at me. “How’s my nephew?”

It’s Maddox’s eager grin that makes me set aside worries about the blood evidence for the moment. Among the grief of Laura Walker’s death, Ballsy’s arrest, and missing women, it’s not often people like us get something to celebrate. Even so, my appetite is gone, so I toss the rest of the burrito in the trash and stand, saying, “Let’s go find out.”

Before letting them in, I crack the door, checking to make sure she’s decent. Verity can flash her tits to her mom and her girlfriends all she wants, but it’ll be over my dead body that the Dukes get even a glimpse of her nipples. Seeing that she’s put the goods away for now, I open the door for them to enter just as a burst of laughter comes from the women.

Nick eyes them skeptically, “I can’t ever tell if that’s a bad sign or not.”

“They’re happy,” Sy says, coming to the same conclusion I had. “They deserve that—especially right now, with the rest of West End planning a funeral.”

Death and birth.

No one understands the cycle more than a PNZ.

“Looking good, Ver,” Remy says, approaching the bed. “Wanna see what I did this morning?”

She sits straighter, eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

He thrusts out his arm and pulls back his sleeve, revealing a clear bandage. Nestled against his other ink, a small crown is visible beneath the translucent bandage. In a looping script, the initialsJ.J. interlock. “For my nephew.”

Verity stares at it, her mouth pressed into a tight line as her eyes begin welling. “Oh, Remy,” she gasps, wiping a tear from her eye. “Fuck you. You know I’m hormonal right now.”

From the couch, Lavinia beams at him. “I helped with one of the roses on the bottom.”

Verity’s chin wobbles, and she looks at me, a plea in her eyes that I don’t have to consider for long. “Do you want to hold him?”

Remy freezes, glancing at me. “Can I?” Shrugging, I wave my hand, having had my possessive instincts whittled down over the course of so many visitors already. The Dukes don’t even feel like enemies anymore, which is something I might think to feel worried about later.