Maybe that Four Musketeers thing had reached the end. Time to move on. To leave the three of them behind, start fresh. Hell, maybe even move out to the suburbs, be closer to Cassie. Start catching her soccer games more often, picking her up from school. Leave behind late-night drunks and casual gropes with Jenn. He cared about them, he did. But sometimes you got too comfortable in your old life, too built-in, and only an earthquake could shake things loose, show you that you weren’t where you wanted to be.

It might be time to start standing alone.

IAN MADE IT to Wednesday evening.

After leaving Jenn’s apartment, he went to the office and threw himself into work, trying to use it as a drug to distract himself. He hadn’t taken a blast of coke since Mitch had yanked his vial away, and while he was proud of that, he was also ragged and sick. The burn on his balls fired raw, electric jolts every time he shifted position. And worst of all, he could hear Katz’s measured voice in his head:

My money. All of it. By Wednesday. Or…

For you and your friends.

He knew what he had promised the others. If he wanted to keep that promise, he should go home, make dinner, turn on reality TV, and work his way through a couple bottles of wine. Not do any coke, not call Katz, not do a good goddamn.

But if he did, then he was on the line for the debt. They all were. And he had the money, could pay what he owed. Keep all four of them safe.

Besides. They would never need to know.

TRISH HAD BEEN HESITANT AT FIRST, but eventually had told Alex to come out this evening, after dinner. It was typical that she hadn’t invited him to join. Not cruel, just oh-so-practical. Ex and husband do not at the same table eat.

Her doorbell made a civilized ding-dong, nothing at all like the shrieking buzz of his city apartment. He heard the clicking of shoes against marble, and then the door opened. Trish wore a white blouse and a serious expression, hair pulled into a simple ponytail but nails done. She hesitated a moment, then surprised him with a hug. They hadn’t done the hugging-hello thing for years. “Thanks for coming out,” she said, like it had been her idea.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“I know. Come in.” She closed the door behind him.

“Where’s Cass?”

“She’s staying at a friend’s.”

“What? Are you-” He spread his hands. “I wanted to see her.”

“I thought it was better we talk without her for now. Come on. We’re in here.”

We? We who? He followed her, noticing the stack of moving boxes in the corner, the half-empty bookshelf. “Trish-”

“Hello, Alex.” Scott stood beside the kitchen table. His ex-wife’s new husband was the kind of guy who, no matter what he was wearing, always looked like he had a sweater tied around his shoulders. “You remember Douglas, our attorney?” He gestured to a pale, suited man with watery eyes, who nodded, said, “Thanks for coming.”

“Everybody keeps saying that,” Alex said, thinking, attorney? He fought the urge to bounce on the balls of his feet. The kitchen was bright and expensive-looking, with granite countertops and a stove that would have made Ian jealous. “But I asked to see Trish, not the other way around.”

“Sure. Of course.” Scott made brief eye contact with his wife and their lawyer. “Do you want a drink? Some coffee, or a beer?”

“I’m fine. What’s he doing here?”

The lawyer smiled blandly. “Mr. and Mrs. Stevens asked if I could join just in case there were any, ah, legal questions.”

“There won’t be. You can go.”

“Alex.” Trish came up beside him. He’d forgotten how petite she was, a little elfin thing. “Don’t be like that.”

He narrowed his eyes, looked around the room. “I came to talk and to see Cassie. I didn’t expect to get ambushed.”

“Nobody’s ambushing anybody,” Scott said. “We just thought the four of us should chat.”

“The four of us. My ex-wife, her new husband, and the vampire lawyer.”

“Come on. Let’s be adult about this, OK?” Trish pronounced it ad-ult. “Come on, sit down.”

He thought about storming out, couldn’t see what it would accomplish. Reluctantly, he pulled up a chair.

“Now,” Scott said. “I can imagine how you feel about our decision to move.”

“I doubt that.”

He looked pained. “OK. My point is that none of us want this to get ugly. It wouldn’t be good for Cassie.”

“That your big priority, Scott? What’s good for my daughter? Because I would think that living near her father would be good for her. Staying in school with her friends would be good for her.” He leaned into the butcher-block table. “Not moving halfway across the fucking country would be good for her.”

“Cassie will miss you,” Trish said. “And she’ll miss her friends. But you’re welcome to come visit anytime. You can have the same privileges you do now. In fact, if you wanted to move-”

“If I wanted to move? To Arizona?” He shook his head. “I’m supposed to uproot my life because Scottie got a job offer?”

“I’m just saying, we’re still going to be flexible, like always.”

“Flexible? You’re moving to another state.” He fought to keep his voice under control. “You have no right to do this, to take my daughter-”

“Actually, Mr. Kern,” the lawyer spoke for the first time, “they do.” He paused, picked up a sheaf of stapled papers, and leaned forward to set them in front of Alex. “In case you haven’t read the divorce settlement recently, there are clear provisions-”

“For what? For taking a daughter from her father?”

“Clear provisions,” the man said as if he hadn’t been interrupted, “regarding the rights and privileges accorded all parties. Now, it’s my understanding that you have missed a number of child support payments?” He glanced at Trish, who nodded. “Which, I’m afraid, severely limits your rights in this matter. Especially as Mr. and Mrs. Stevens have been providing a stable household for…” He paused, looked at his notes.

“Cassie,” Alex said. “Her name is Cassie.”

“For Cassie. Under circumstances like these, I’m afraid that the situation is quite clear.” He steepled his fingers.

“What Douglas means,” Scott said, “is that while we all want what’s best for her, there are some rules…”

Alex leaned over, grabbed Scott by the hair, and slammed his face into the table.

“That need to be acknowledged. Now, we all know that you love…”

He stood, took the chair by the back, and swung it in a home run arc that caught all three of them in their respective heads.

“Cassie, but the truth is, we are the ones that are raising her day-to-day…”

He snatched the cleaver off the cutting board and spun it in a glimmering arc. Both Scott and the lawyer’s heads tumbled in the air.

“And this opportunity means the best for her. Patricia and I can pay for private schools, soccer camp, her clothes, and her books. We can guarantee she has a family dinner every night. Basically”-Scott shrugged apologetically-“we can do the things you can’t.”

“Motherfucker.” Alex whispered. “You motherfucker.”

Trish sighed. “I knew this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Mr. Kern,” the lawyer said. “Please. Be civil. No matter how you feel, the fact is that you have not maintained your end of the agreement.”

Alex laid his hands on the table, palm down, to keep from clenching them into fists. “Is that right? Well, this should make things simpler.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out the cashier’s check, unfolded it, and set it in front of Trish.

She looked at it, and then at him. “What is this?”

“That, Patricia, is a check. For more than I owe, I believe.” He grinned. “Which I guess changes the circumstances some, eh?”

“May I see that?” Douglas held out a hand, and Trish passed him the check. He looked at it carefully.

“It’s real, you dick.” The table had fallen silent, and Alex smiled, feeling suddenly strong again. “That’s the money I owe. So I’m not in violation of the agreement. So you can’t take her from me.”