Checking the time on her phone, she says, “His break’s coming shortly. If you hang out back, he’ll be out there for a smoke.” She grabs the pad out of her apron, and her smile tightens. “I need to get back to work.”

“Thanks, Amanda. I appreciate it.”

She gives me a nod and starts making rounds while I walk back out to my car. As she’s advised, I pull my car around back and wait with my window down. As if she sent him herself, he pushes through the door and lights a smoke. Looking up, he comes stalking toward the car. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

I get out, not trusting him to treat my Maserati with the care she deserves. I raise my hands. “I come in peace, man.”

He’s got a busted-up black eye and looks like a split lip. The bruising on my ribs isn’t as bad as it felt last night. My jaw still hurts, and he left his mark, so he should feel satisfied.

He says, “There is no peace to be found between us. We just need to stick to our sides of town.” His shirt is covered in grime, jeans looking like they need a good wash. Dane could use a shave and a haircut probably, but I’ve seen him cleaned up and looking better at the catering gigs. Seems more is going on with him these days than his girlfriend getting pregnant.

“I love her, Dane. I love Lark more than anything. I can’t stick to The Pointe when she was raised near downtown. Her dad still lives there. She does as well, at least for another month. We can’t make this a territorial fight. Anyway, you’re in The Pointe working sometimes.”

He’s sucking on the cigarette like it’s a joint, not giving me an ounce of his attention as he stares at the highway. He coughs, then shoots me a look. “She’s like a sister to me.”

“Look, I can appreciate what you’ve done for her. You protected her from falling in with the wrong crowd.”

“You, Westcott. You’re a part of that crowd. You and Lucas were.” He stabs his cigarette in the air toward me. “Why do you get to walk away like you’re innocent, go to your fancy college, clean up or whatever the shit you did, and the little guy keeps getting stomped on?”

We both know why.

Money brings opportunity.

I scratch the back of my neck and look down, unsure what to say. I might not be able to bridge this gap with him, but maybe our common interest can. When I look up again, I say, “I don’t know how hard you have it, so I won’t pretend I understand. But this isn’t about me. It’s about Lark.” I come a little closer, keeping him more than arm’s length away. “You guys are from the same neighborhood, and from what she’s told me, you grew up together from high school on. But that’s all I know about your background because everything she’s said was how good you’ve been to her and how you looked out for her and Amanda.”