Precipice did the same. She didn’t hesitate. Because she’d gotten over it with me, or because I was more of a reason to hesitate? Past history?

Off to the side, Chastity was greeting Rachel’s henchperson. A kiss on each cheek, deftly done, while the henchperson reacted in the awkward way just about anyone, myself included, did when a surprise dual-cheek-kiss was done to them, trying to reciprocate while a step behind.

“If you get your food and arrange meetups at a place like this, people are going to draw conclusions,” Chastity said.

“It’s good food. I got you some.”

“I’m really not hungry. But thank you. At a place like this you’re getting pretty waitresses, not good food.”

“If pretty waitresses was all they had, then they wouldn’t be full of customers. And they wouldn’t have a nice sign.”

“Can we address the guy with his head in a dog’s mouth?” Rain asked. “It’s alarming.”

“It’s a soft mouthed breed,” Rachel said, patting the side of the dog with heavy slaps that sounded like drum beats. The dog, for its part, wasn’t moving its head an inch—considerable given the size of that head.

“I don’t know what that means. I never had a dog growing up,” I said. “My parents said it wouldn’t be fair if we got hurt or if a supervillain got us, and we weren’t back for it.”

“Fair,” Rachel said.

“Not fair. They had you,” Candy said.

I shrugged.

“We had a dog,” Chastity said. As the Heartbroken turned her way, she clarified for her sister and ‘cousin’, “Not the fat man. An actual dog.”

“What the fuck? I don’t remember that,” Candy said.

“It died when you were small,” Chastity said.

Rachel stared at Chastity, her expression unreadable, just kind of ambiguously hostile, eyebrows furrowed. Then she turned back to me. “Soft mouthed means it’s gentle. You could have it carry an egg and it wouldn’t break it.”

“Is it necessary?” Rain asked.

“We’ll see,” Rachel said. “Off, Honeybun.”

The dog backed away, releasing the mercenary’s head. Just from moisture of the dog’s breath, his head and face were damp.

“I didn’t have a look in my eye. I’m just doing the work,” he said.

Off to the side, Candy shook her head.

“Lie,” Candy said.

“I’m fucking innocent of whatever it is you think I did!”

“Lie.”

“You’re lying to my face?” Rachel growled. She stepped forward, gesturing. The dog exerted more downward pressure.

“Fuck! No!”

To my right, Precipice shifted his footing, head angled down.

I could see the faint change in the man, the way his jaw set.

“I get the pay, I do the work, I keep it simple!”

“Lie.”