“Getting choked out in the house across the street.” My voice is tight with anger even as I scratch Wilson’s belly.

Ethan sinks back down onto the couch as I tell him what happened. When I finish, he says, “I need to call Frankie.”

“No,” I say. “Not yet.”

“Why not? This guy attacked you.”

I stand and stretch my neck one way, then the other. It’s sore, but I’ll live. “He didn’t shoot me, or even really hurt me.” It costs me something to say that, but it’s the truth.

“No, he just squeezed your neck until you passed out. And if he got the drop on you, then he’s dangerous.”

“Thanks for the backhanded compliment,” I say. “Seriously, he could have done anything to me, and he didn’t. He just wanted to send a message that he’s for real, but he also doesn’t want us dead. He just doesn’t want to talk at gunpoint.” And then I sit up suddenly, my nerves frazzled but pinging away. “Where’s Tane?”

“Passed out on my bed. Guy was falling asleep on his feet. You take the couch. I’ll go back to my room. It’s a king-sized bed, he won’t even know I’m there.”

I want to argue for form’s sake, but a wave of fatigue rolls over me, dragging me in its wake. “’Kay,” I manage. “We’ll go see Uncle Gavin tomorrow, yeah?”

Ethan nods, then surprises me by giving me a hug, and I surprise myself by hugging him back. He holds onto me for a few seconds, then releases me and goes back to his bedroom. Wilson looks after him, looks at me, then announces his decision by walking over to his corner bed in the den. He yawns, pads around in a circle on his bed, and flops down.

I’m too tired to even change out of my clothes, but I put my S&W in its pancake holster on the coffee table within arm’s reach. Then I lie down on the couch and pull a throw blanket over me, sinking like a stone into a black pool of sleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

My dreams are hard and fragmented, like images or scenes flashed up on a screen: a bicycle, a long hallway, a forest covered in kudzu. The clearest image I have is of kneeling in a garden, pulling dead flowers out of the dirt.