“I don’t know how to put into words what happened to her. I was so pissed and hurt thinking she cheated. Then hearing he extorted her? I can’t comprehend what that actually is. There’s gotta be layers and layers of shit there, and how do you unpack all of that?”

He was looking to me for answers. I shook my head. “No one has the answers for that except Tab, and honestly, I don’t think she even has them. No matter what, she should talk to a therapist and go from there.”

He nodded, raking a hand over his head. “Fuck. Just, fuck.”

Cross nodded to Zellman. “You okay? With Sunday?”

Zellman shrugged, his face tightening. “Shit with Sunday is same ol’, same ol’. She’s talking about going to Florida and living with her aunt. There’s a job she can do there, and her aunt’s willing to watch Dray during the day. I guess she’s got a bunch of cousins there, too.”

“You and her?”

He rolled his eyes to Cross’ question. “She don’t want anything from me. She’s kinda about hating men right now. She and Drake, they don’t see eye to eye—”

Cross shot me a look.

I straightened from my wall. “Wait. What?”

Zellman’s eyebrows pulled together. “What?”

“Sunday and Drake? They’re talking?”

“Yeah.” His head moved up and down. “Why?”

Cross made a scoffing sound. “Why am I not surprised?”

Both Jordan and Zellman looked from Cross to me and back again.

“This have to do with the crew meeting we needed to have?”

Goddamn Drake. That’s all that was going through my mind, but I let out a sigh. “Yeah. He called and asked for us to do him a solid. He was claiming that Sunday wasn’t letting him be a part of Dray’s life.”

“That’s not true, like at all. She calls him every day and they email. He knows she wants to go to Florida and he’s trying to keep her from leaving.”

Anger burst inside of me.

“Why would he lie?”

“What else did he say?”

I turned to Jordan. “He knows about the Red Demons, that they’re looking for a witness, said he knows who that it is. He wanted me to see if Maxwell Raith would want to get that name. He said he’d tell me to tell my dad if I’d put in a good word with Sunday to let him be a part of his kid’s life.”

“That’s all a lie. He’s firmly involved.”

Jordan asked Zellman, “You think this could be a weird way to try to control her? Manipulate her somehow?”

Zellman shrugged, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the couch. He pulled his legs and rested his elbows on his knees. “Who the fuck knows. Don’t know how, though.” He looked at me. “He say anything else?”