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I didn’t think Seb would physically hurt me. I didn’t think he’d ever hurt Sparrow. But I’d seen what he and the club could do when they decided a child belonged with one parent instead of the other.

I’d watched Seb make criminal records appear and build evidence that hadn’t existed before he needed it. Every time, the parent Venom helped had been the right one. The other parent had lied, blackmailed someone or found another way to use a child as a weapon. Venom stepped in when doing things the legal way wasn’t working, and the child ended up where they were safe.

What if I told him and they decided Sparrow should be with him? What chance did I have against a man who could change the record before it reached a judge? So I said nothing. Not to punish him. Not because I wanted to keep his child from him. I said nothing because I thought telling him might cost me my daughter.

But now he was here.

Had he found out about Sparrow? Was that the new fact big enough to put him on a bike and send him four hours up the coast without telling his club where he was going?

If it was, he’d come for her.

Not me.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the parcel. Whether a prospect had signed for it and it sat on that desk with the club’s mail. Whether he saw my name and threw it in the trash. Whether it was still in that room, unopened.

Or whether he opened it.

At six thirty I fed Sparrow, put her down and handed the monitor to Robin before I got in the shower.

At quarter past seven Dion knocked on my bedroom door with his keys in his hand. Simon had very sensibly stayed away from the house, so Dion was driving me tonight.

“You still going?”

Nobody would have blamed me if I said no. Mavis would have taken one look at my text and replied, Fine, love. Next week. Every one of the men would have been relieved.

But Seb had been in town for nine hours. He hadn’t spoken to me or come near the house, and I wasn’t changing my plans because of him. I’d worked too hard to get back on that stage. I wasn’t giving up my Wednesday because he’d ridden into town.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m still going.”

Dion grinned and went downstairs to wait for me.

I pulled on jeans and a sweater and went downstairs with my hair still damp. Robin was on the phone in the kitchen. He stopped talking when he saw me. He studied me for a second, then nodded. “Dion’s waiting.”

My costume was hanging in the dressing room at The Hot House. My mask was packed in its case beneath it. I’d do my face there, put my hair up and walk onto the stage at quarter past nine.

Seb turning up might change tomorrow. It wasn’t changing tonight.

Tonight, I was Blondie.

Chapter 8

❧

— Glitch —

You were right. Kettlewell.

Handful had given me the lead that brought me here so I owed him an update.

He replied inside ninety seconds. You found her?

Yes.

Fuck yes!

Four minutes passed before another message came through. Dutch is going to skin you.

I wasn’t worried about Dutch. After Robin laid down his terms and Simon told me Wren was with him, I’d sent Dutch a short text letting him know where I was before he realized I was missing and sent out a search party.