Just like the other day, DeAndre burst into the kitchen, that same look of fear in his eyes. Nobody needs to tell me that Montgomery has come visiting again.

This time, he's sitting in the dining area like one of the customers, looking like the laird of the land. A shot punch of hatred hits me, but I swallow it down.

I take the seat in front of him before he can tell me to. "Before you start this again, I'll answer you. I don't know where Quentin is. I don't have money to give ...