“Nothing for me,” Harlow said.

“You sure, Blondie?” Daniel asked. “Chicken sub looks good.”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. The boy looked too thin. “I’ll have the chicken sub. Extra cheese.”

The boy nodded approvingly.

“Drink?” Becky asked.

“You probably want a soda,” Daniel said.

Saxon muttered under his breath.

“I’ll have a soda,” Harlow said. “Mountain Dew. Extra-large.”

Becky bounced away.

“Give us the dagger,” Saxon said.

Daniel’s chin jutted at them.

Harlow pressed a hand to Saxon’s arm. “Daniel, like I said, I’m in trouble.”

The boy fiddled with some sugar packets from the bowl on the table. “Sucks to be in trouble.”

“It sure does. It all started with my dad.” She launched into her tale of woe. Their food arrived, and Daniel started mowing through his at an alarming rate while he listened.

“Armand.” The boy shook his head. “Bad news.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Sucks that you had to have dinner with him.” The boy eyed Saxon. “Bet your man was pissed.”

“He was. Oh, Saxon’s not my man. He works with my…man’s brother.” It felt so weird to call Easton her man.

Daniel grunted and sipped some shake.

She finished the story. “So, I really need the dagger.”

“That’s some story, Blondie.” The boy eyed her untouched sub. “You going to eat that?”

She pushed it toward him and watched him tear into it.

“You can’t unload the dagger,” she said. “I know you tried.”

His brown eyes narrowed.

“We’ll pay you,” she said.

Saxon made an unhappy noise.

“A thousand dollars,” she said.

Saxon choked.

“It’s worth more than that,” Daniel said.

“Sure, but you’ll never sell it. It belongs to Rhoda Pierce.”

“Fuck.” His nose wrinkled.

“You shouldn’t curse, Daniel.” She shoved her soda at him.

He eyed her and took the cup. “Two thousand.”

“Done. Saxon will pay you.”

Saxon cursed under his breath.

She smiled at him. “You shouldn’t curse, either.”

“I want my money first,” Daniel said.

Saxon pulled his wallet out. “I don’t carry two G around with me. I’ve got five hundred.” He slapped a wad of cash on the table. “Consider it a down payment.”

“Wow.” Harlow never had cash. “Who carries cash around like that?”

“Me. When I have to pay informants, or bribe young extortionists.”

Daniel leaned forward, and the money disappeared.

“The knife,” Harlow said. “Then we’ll go and get the rest of your money.”

The boy pulled a wrapped object out of his pocket, and set it on the table.

Her heart tripped. Her father’s initials were embroidered on the handkerchief. This was one step toward fixing the chaos in her life.

She flipped open the cloth and saw the jewels in the knife’s hilt gleam. There were scratch marks on it, so she guessed Daniel must have tried to pry them free.