Bram, Bijou, and Suzanne rounded the side of the inn to the front where a black car was waiting with the engine on and lights off.

"Bijou," Bram muttered only just over the noise of the engine. "Go around the front of the car."

"Using me as bait?" Bijou muttered back as he slid past Suzanne and Bram.

"As a distraction," Bram offered. "You can handle yourself."

Bijou gave him a look as he passed him, but then squared his shoulders and marched towards the car.

"I don't like this," Suzanne muttered as she huddled close to Bram.

Bram suppressed a smile and watched as Bijou crossed in front of the car.

"Don't worry about Bijou," Bram said. "He's more than capable. Now, follow me."

They circled the opposite way Bijou had gone, around the back of the car, out of sight of Damion. As they walked silently, Damion emerged from the front seat, his sights set on Bijou.

"You. Harlot! How are you here?" Damion asked.

"Good luck," Bijou answered with a smile, his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers.

"Fuck you!" Damion hissed. He went to move, but Bram was faster.

Bram stepped up behind Damion and caught him in a grapple, locking his arms under Damion's arms and behind Diamons’s head. Suzanne then stepped in and plucked the gun from Damion's left hand.

"What the—! That hurts! Let go of me!"

"No." Bram said calmly.

"Mickey, you idiot Bog-trotter! I ought to—!" Damion stopped talking as a knife was put to his throat.

"You ought to be careful what you say in this situation," Bijou warned with a dark frown.

"My knife!" Suzanne gasped. "When did you?"

"One wrong word," Bijou went on, ignoring Suzanne, "And we'll be finding a shed to bury you under."

"Bijou!" Bram whispered. When Bijou's eyes flicked to him, Bram shook his head. "Find some rope. There's usually some in the trunk of the cars."

"It'd be easier to kill him," Bijou said.

"And messier," Bram said.

"Please," Damion said. "You don't have to kill me. Tell him, Bram. Suzanne. I was just following orders. I don't even know who you are, Mister."

"He was going to kill my children!" Bijou hissed, pressing the knife to Damion's throat.

"I wasn't! I wasn't!" Damion pleaded. "I just had orders. Drive the muscle out here. Have him get rid of the four people in the car. Don't ask questions. I swear I don't even know who you are." Damion hiccuped and for the first time, Bram realized he stunk like wine. "Made me sick to think about it. Someone wanting to kill those little kids."

"But you had Bram do it anyway!"

"Little kids?" Suzanne muttered. "What the fuck, Damion?"

Damion began to cry. His breath stank of wine. He was drunker than usual. "I've seen him kill a dog that got run over by a car. He broke its neck, all clean and neat. I thought he could do it without you suffering. I couldn't say no, so I thought he could do it without you suffering. I swear. I swear! I thought he could do it without you suffering, Mister!"

Bram watched as Bijou stared Damion down. The knife was too close to Damion's throat for Bram to do much if Bijou struck. Besides, could anyone blame him? It was his kids. The night air was thick with tension for a few seconds before Bijou snarled, pulled the knife away, expertly flipped it closed, and slipped it in his pocket.

"I'll find that rope," Suzanne muttered and walked to the car.