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“How did you meet him? And why is he named ‘Scar’?” I didn’t see any scars on him, but maybe they’re under his clothes. Heat floods my cheeks. I really need to stop thinking about what he might be hiding in those jeans.

“That’s a story for him to tell.” She stares into space for a moment before returning her attention to me. “I’m not surprised Max’s father is getting away with what he did. The sheriff’s department is corrupt as hell in this county.”

“I never realized it until the trial.”

“Someone needs to clean up this mess, but the corruption goes all the way up to the highest levels of office. The old boys’ club sticks together. Trust me, when my old man was alive, he did everything he could to weed out corruption. But snakes are slippery little bastards.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your …”

“Husband,” she supplies. “He died in a motorcycle accident.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” She gets a far-off look in her eyes before shaking her head and directing her attention back to her tea.

As we sip in silence, I soften my gaze and study Nina’s aura. It sparkles like faceted rose quartz, with hints of violet, which usually indicates some kind of psychic power. I wonder what she’s capable of and suspect it has something to do with making people feel safe. I’ve felt completely sheltered and protected since the moment I walked into her house. Maybe she’s gifted with the ability to soothe emotions. It would be a very handy skill to have.

Scar and Max walk out of the pantry carrying so much junk food my teeth hurt. Max’s aura is bright yellow and filled with joy. He follows Scar to a long dining room table near windows overlooking the back garden. He dumps his loot onto the table.

“Um, I don’t think he should be eating that much sugar this late in the day,” I say. Kids tend to lose their minds if given enough sugar. The day after Halloween is always a nightmare at school. They’re so hopped up on candy that trying to get them under any kind of control is almost impossible.

“Stop being a spoilsport,” Scar says. He sits beside Max and starts dividing the candy into two piles. Scar’s is markedly larger.

“If he’s up all night, you’re going to have to stay up, too,” I warn.

“Not a problem. I don’t sleep much anyway.” Scar’s brow furrows.

I wonder what that’s about.

“I’ll make dinner in an hour,” Nina says. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying the night?”

“Yes,” Scar says.

“No,” I say.

We frown at each other. We never discussed staying here for any length of time. Granted, I don’t have any other option. I can’t exactly take Max home with me. If he’s been reported missing, which I assume is the case since the deputies showed up at the bar, then they’ll start talking to school employees. Someone had to have seen him come to my office, so I’m sure I’ll be on their list.

“What exactly is the plan?” Nina asks. “Are we going to put him somewhere safe, permanently?”

I don’t like the sound of that.

“He should stay here until we figure something out. I don’t know if going the underground route is the right thing to do yet,” Scar says.

“What’s the underground route?” I ask.

“We’d get him into our system of people who help kids like Max. No one knows each other. They only know two links in the chain, the link between where the kid came from and where he’s going next. We do that so people can truly disappear into a better life.”

“How do you know the kids will reach their final destination? Whatistheir final destination?”

“We have clubs all over the country,” Nina explains. “My old man set them up when he was president of Underground Vengeance. Scar took over after he died. We have connections with clubs across the U.S., from Louisiana to North Dakota to New Mexico. We’re everywhere, which is why it’s easy to rescue people and get them to a safe, new life.”

“Would he live with other people from one of the clubs?” I ask.

“Sometimes a club brother and his old lady will take a kid in. If we’re rescuing a family, like a mother with her children, then we’ll get her set up with a job, usually something related to the club’s various businesses. She’ll be supported and protected by the local club as long as her abuser is still alive,” Scar says.

“Does that happen a lot? That you ‘disappear’ people?” I ask.

“It depends on the population near the club. In places like California or New York, the clubs are bigger. They can help more people, which is good because the higher the population in an area, the more people come to us for help. Usually women and children, but we’ve helped men, too. Not all abusers are men,” Scar says with a hint of bitterness.