If she looked at Ash, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do what she’d come here to do. And so she kept her eyes straight ahead, a muscle in her jaw tightening.

“I’ve brought you a pilot,” she said evenly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ash’s head swivel around, his eyes boring into the sides of her face.

“Quinn—” he said.

Dorothy felt a muscle in her jaw tighten. The sound of his voice twisted something inside of her. He sounded so betrayed, so hurt.

“Now you and I are straight,” she said, and she took a few intentional steps across the dock, so that she was standing beside Mac, the two of them facing Ash, together.

One of the Cirkus Freaks laughed, the sound cruelly cutting through the fog. They began to draw closer, circling him.

“No.” Ash’s face was terrible, confused and hurt.

Dorothy forced herself to meet his eyes, even though it pained her to do so.

He looked from Mac to Dorothy and said, as though trying to appeal to some humanity inside of her, “What are you doing? We were going to take Mac on together. That was the plan!”

“Ash, be reasonable. If we did it that way, I’d have Mac and his men following me for the rest of my life.” Dorothy felt a rush as the truth of this statement filled her words. Her mother had been the one to point this out. She’d known men like Mac her whole life, and she was certain that Mac wouldn’t give up until he’d found a pilot. The only way to be rid of him for good was to give him one.

“I’m sorry,” Dorothy said, ashamed to hear her voice breaking. “There simply isn’t another way.”

To Mac, she added, “You have everything you need now. Tell me, do we have a deal?”

Mac was considering her, lips twitching with glee. He seemed to be enjoying this immensely. He rocked from the heels of his feet to the balls, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets. Dorothy held her breath, waiting. She could practically hear the words on his lips.

We have a deal.

But, after a long moment, he shook his head, almost sadly. He pulled his gun from his waistband and used it to scratch his temple.

“The thing is, princess,” he said, with a short laugh. “I just don’t trust you.”

And he pointed the gun at Dorothy’s face, drawing the gun’s hammer back with his thumb.

32

Ash

Ash felt his spine stiffen as Cirkus Freaks surrounded him on all sides, his head spinning. He hadn’t liked this plan one bit, not from the moment Dorothy and her mother had shown up to pitch it to him. It sounded dangerous and complicated and . . . well, stupid.

But it’d been the only plan they had. And, so, he’d agreed.