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“No, that was my niece,” Deke said, slamming his hand down on the table. “Cute kid. Never gonna have kids of her own, though, what with the way your boys ripped her up from the inside out. Spent a year on a f*ckin’ psych ward. Still scared to leave her house.” Toke grunted, pulling out his knife and laying it on the table. Hunter leaned forward, his face every bit as intense as Deke’s. He ignored the knife. “That problem’s been solved,” he said. “We offered proof.” “Proof wasn’t good enough,” Deke replied. “Dead is easy. They needed to suffer, and I needed to be the one making them suffer. You stole that from me.” Hunter glanced at his friend, then nodded to the waitress, gesturing for her to come over. She approached their group cautiously, clearly reading the tension. “Another round
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