“He wants forgiveness?” Devil cut her a look. “Not from us.” He lifted his chin in the direction of the yard. “From them.” She watched as he set the ice at the feet of one of the bruisers at the warehouse door, and a whisper of memory ran through her. They don’t get what they deserve. He’d said it to her when they were children. About these people. About this place. He turned to make his way back across the yard. We’re going to change all that.
