I pulled out my phone. Called Hank.
He answered on the second ring. "Ridge."
"Hank. Why isn't The Spoke open yet?"
Silence. Then, "I don't know. Just didn't feel right."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean after everything that happened. The war. The deaths. I don't know. Maybe I'm being paranoid."
"You're scared."
"Maybe. Yeah."
I got it. Hank wasn't a brother. Wasn't used to the violence. The death. The war had shaken him.
"Listen," I said. "I get it. But I need you to open. Tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Mira needs to get back to work. And you need to get back to business."
He was quiet for a moment. "Alright. I'll open tomorrow."
"Good. And Hank, you won't be alone. I'm putting brothers there on rotation. Five per shift. Two inside. Three outside. They'll be there the whole time Mi
