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“Inside the club?”

“We don’t know.”

“Yet,” Hyde says.

There is something in his tone that makes even Boogie stop joking.

I look toward Razor.

He smiles through blood.

Not big.

Just enough.

Great.

Apparently my homicidal ex comes with a conspiracy package.

Hyde jerks his chin. “Take him.”

Boogie and Ghoul drag Razor toward the funeral home.

He does not call me Doll again.

Smartest thing he has done all night.

Crypt finishes checking my wrist.

“Sprain, maybe worse. We’ll wrap it and keep an eye on the swelling. Shoulder?”

“Sore.”

“Knees?”

“Attached.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“Then also sore.”

His mouth almost twitches. “You dizzy?”

“No.”

“Nauseous?”

“No.”

“Seeing two of anybody?”

I look toward Bitter.

“One is plenty.”

Boogie laughs from farther down the road.

Hyde says, “Keep walking.”