The night had gone heavy. Smoke clung to the rafters of the Pit Stop, men muttering in low voices, the weight of what Owen laid on the table pressing them all down. Silas slipped outside for air, the cool bite of the evening hitting his lungs like a blade.
He heard boots behind him. Jack.
For once, the old man didn’t come with fire in his voice. He lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and stared at the dark horizon. “Heard something,” Jack said finally, smoke curling from his lips. “Club girls talking.”
Silas tensed. “What about?”
Jack’s gaze cut sideways, sharp even in the dim light. “About Sage. Buying a test.”
Heat shot up Silas’s spine. His jaw locked. “They’re running their mouths. She doesn’t deserve that shit.”
“Didn’t say she did.” Jack’s tone was even, steady as stone. He flic
