Pete put the hot bowl down on the table and turned back to the kitchen. “Feel free to dig in, guys,” he told Keegan and Cooper. “I’ll bring the salad out in just a second.”

He yawned as he walked. His pregnancy hadn’t been a hard one so far, at least not compared to what some other people had gone through. Growing a new human was still hard work, though, and took a huge toll on his body.

All he wanted to do lately was sleep. He understood this was normal, but he still hated it.

He brought the salad out to the dining room to find Cooper and Keegan staring at him as though he had three heads. Neither of them had touched the food. “What’s going on, guys? Is there a problem with the food?" He scanned the table for anything obviously amiss, like a mouse in the greens.

“You cooked.” Cooper poked at the salad. “You’ve never cooked for me before.” He glared up at Pete with suspicion. “Is something going on? Do you have news you want to share? Twins, maybe?”

Pete blushed. He hadn’t cooked for Cooper. He’d cooked for Keegan, and Cooper just happened to be there. He was pretty sure they both knew it, though.

“You know I haven’t seen a doctor yet. You haven’t vetted one. I was hungry, and we’re still holed up in here until we find Dmitry. So I figured we might as well eat. Go ahead, dig in. I promise, I don’t actually suck at this.”

Keegan chuckled and dished a huge serving of pasta onto Pete’s plate. Then he offered the plate to Cooper. “So my dad called me today,” he said, as he dished a healthy portion of salad onto Pete’s plate. “He’s mad at me again.”

“Is that because you repurposed his curtains to make that outfit?” Cooper eyed Keegan’s suit. Pete couldn’t blame him, neither Cooper nor Keegan’s father. Red velvet was for cake, not clothing.

“No. I was talking about my other dad, Ed. I don’t think Ed notices curtains, unless they’re on a stage. No, Ed is mad that I beat him out in a bid for a property in SoHo.”

Cooper passed Keegan the pasta who serve himself as he spoke. “I told him I was going for it. Did he think when I found out — from the seller, for the record, not from Ed — that he was going for it too, I would back away for some reason?”

Pete snorted. Dmitry would have expected Keegan to back away. He’d have killed him for refusing, too. In hindsight, maybe marrying a guy who saw Ivan the Terrible as a role model hadn’t been the best life choice he could have made.

“A lot of alphas see themselves as being in some kind of hierarchy. Your father probably sees himself as a pack leader of some kind. As his son, he’d expect you to defer to him, like a wolf would defer to its pack alpha.”

Cooper scratched his head. “Wolves don’t actually work that way.” He took a mouthful of food.

“They don’t?” Pete blinked and stared down at his plate. Dmitry had been adamant: this was how wolves behaved; this was how all alphas should model their behavior. It was the law of the wild; eat or be eaten. Wasn’t it?

“Nope. The guy who described that behavior disavowed all that research. Turns out it was all based on wolves in captivity who were reacting to an unnatural situation and the stress of imprisonment. It’s literally just humans who think that way.” Cooper dug into his food. “You’re a pretty good cook, Pete. I had no idea.”

Pete turned to Keegan. “Did you know about this?” Pete couldn’t say why the revelation was so upsetting to him. Everything else Dmitry had told him had turned out to be a load of crap; why not this, too?

Keegan swallowed his mouth full of food. “I had no idea you were such a good cook either. I don’t want to get too used to it. I’m afraid I’ll start taking it for granted. I don’t want you to feel like you have to cook, you know? You should only do the things you want to do from here on out.”

Pete made a face at him. “You know what I mean.”

Keegan chuckled and forked another bite of pasta. “I’ve honestly never given it the slightest thought. I never paid attention to those parts of alpha and omega studies classes, because it always smelled like BS to me.

“I’m not a wolf. I’m not a dog. I don’t go around sniffing people’s butts, I don’t lift my leg to pee, and I actually kind of like baths. I like them better with bubbles.

“It sounds like the kind of thing Ed would believe, though. I’ll have to leave a great big bundle of research right in his favorite reading chair the next time I go over there, hopefully never.”

“I hope,” Pete said, still working the concept over in his mind, “that you can find a way to make sure Dmitry has to learn this stuff when he gets taken in. He literally thinks of himself as a wolf. Did you know that? He seriously thinks he’s a kind of wolf, a massive alpha wolf.”

He bit his lip. It had been a long time since he’d dated, but he knew it was considered to be bad form to sit around and talk about the ex. He didn’t even want to think about Dmitry, much less talk about him, or what Dmitry’s presence could mean for him.

At the same time, Dmitry was the reason they were all there, eating together. Plus, Dmitry had been a huge part of Pete’s life. Pete couldn’t just lock that up in a box and pretend those years hadn’t occurred.

He didn’t want to dwell on them, but he couldn’t very well just sit around and pretend, either. He had to accept everything about his past — the factors that had drawn him to Dmitry, everything Dmitry had been, and everything that had led him to leave. Only then could he find peace.

Keegan snickered. “I guess that’s okay, then. He’s going to go live in a cage, and while he might be some big scary dude on the outside, he’s not going to be a pack leader on the inside.”

He met Pete’s eyes. Even though Cooper was looking at Pete like he had two heads, Pete believed Keegan.

They finished their dinner with much lighter topics and then retired to the living room. At least, they claimed to be relaxing. None of them truly were.

Keegan faked it the best. He sprawled on the couch with his arm around Pete, a big smile on his face. But Pete could feel the tension coiled in his muscles - waiting for an opportunity to take action.

Cooper didn’t bother faking it. He tapped out a tattoo on the floor with his heel and chewed on his knuckle.

Pete understood why they were so tense. For him, the anxiety was a deep pit, gnawing away at his stomach. Dmitry should have been in New York by now. He hadn’t made it yet, but he’d reached out to Ty Cunningham’s firm to inquire about legal representation.

He hadn’t been thrilled when told that they were unenthusiastic about representing him in his appeal on his conviction, given that he’d omitted his escape from prison when discussing his civil suit against Pete.

He’d threatened Ty, personally. “You tell that little bitch omega you have on staff,” he’d seethed to the partner who’d handled his case, “that I’m going to take every dime of my legal fees out on his ass. It’s his fault the judge decided against me, and it’s probably his fault you’re not going to take care of me now. Isn’t it?”

Ty had, according to Keegan, reported these threats calmly and without any hint of concern. And why would he worry? He had no idea Dmitry was so intimately connected with him, or so involved with his life.

He’d taken the precaution of informing the NYPD of the situation, but according to Keegan, “Apparently they get these kinds of threats all the time. And yeah, Ty gets more than his fair share of them because he pisses people off by not hiding who he is. But he’s not going to stop doing what he does, so it’s a factor we have to deal with.”

At nine o’clock, Keegan’s phone rang. All three of them jumped, but Keegan sounded as cool as a cucumber when he answered it. “Hey, Gustavo. How’s it going? Oh, he is? That’s fantastic. No, no. Keep an eye on him, but be subtle and don’t engage. We’ll be there soon.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Pete and Cooper, but he didn’t need to say anything. Cooper was already up and heading for the door, grabbing for the bulletproof vest that waited there.

Pete grabbed for Keegan. “Is it time?” He stroked Keegan’s face. “I mean obviously, but are they sure?”

“They know.” Keegan put his hands on Pete’s shoulders. “It’s going to be fine, Pete. We’re going to take care of this tonight, okay? Just know that I love you, we’re getting this done, and I’m coming home to you.” He bent down and kissed Pete, still sitting on the sofa. “Be safe.”

Keegan headed for the door, but Pete rushed to stop him. “Wait — why does Cooper get a vest, and you don’t?” He blocked the way with his body. “I don’t like this, Keegan. You’re going to get hurt.”

Cooper rolled his eyes and leaned against the wall. “Oh, for crying out loud. We need to get there tonight, Cupcake.”

Keegan stroked Pete’s hair. “Pete, people there know me. They’ll figure out something’s up if I look different, and believe me, I’d look odd with one of those vests under my shirt.”

Pete leaned into his touch. He didn’t want to let him go or to retreat to the “security” of the other penthouse, either. But he knew he had to.

“Be safe,” he whispered again and stepped aside. He let them go out first, and then slipped into the other unit and sadly curled up on his couch.

The two marshals in the unit with him, Gomez and Hartwell, had been part of his case for two years. He trusted them, at least as much as he could trust any of marshals now. Whoever the mole was, it wasn’t likely to be one of these guys. They would have sold him out a long time before now.

Right now, he was less concerned for himself than he was for Keegan, anyway. Pete had never been inside a Hellion Club facility, but he’d heard enough from folks who had.

They were crowded, slightly chaotic, and alcohol flowed like water in a fountain. Keegan could handle himself when it came to booze, no problem, but the people around him would be too drunk to help if things went sideways.

And whenever Dmitry got involved, things were bound to go sideways.

Pete got up and paced. Gomez looked up at him, shrugged, and went back to his tablet. He only looked inattentive. Pete knew he was monitoring the building’s security systems. “You planning to wear a hole in the carpet?” Gomez asked him.

“It’s hardwood.” Pete chewed on his nails again. “What do you see outside?”

Gomez didn’t yell at him, or even get mad. It was kind of Gomez, really. “There are some tourists wandering around out front, but they’re not loitering and look harmless. There’s a homeless guy staggering around in the alley behind the building; I think he’s looking for a place to relieve himself. And there’s a giant rat dragging a piece of pizza.”

Pete took a deep breath. The homeless man had been a fixture for a while. Pete worried at first, but Keegan said he’d been around the place for years. He’d tried to get the guy into an apartment, but the man had declined. He happily accepted food, though. “The guy out back’s name is Ben. The rat’s name is Mikey. Are you sure the tourists aren’t sketchy? They could be Dmitry’s goons, just waiting for the word.”

Hartwell gave him a little smile. “We’ve got a guy on the front desk, Pete.” She stood up. “Do you want me to make you some tea or food?”

Pete sat back down. “No, thanks.” He doubted he could keep it down. Plus, while he trusted Gomez and Hartwell to a point, he didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances.

Christ, this whole thing had made him even more paranoid than when he’d left Dmitry in the first place.

He didn’t know if he was being irrational due to hormones and the strain of two-plus years of living in fear. He moved to grab a book to read, but the books he had in here were all for show, boring as hell. They certainly wouldn’t be any use in distracting Pete from the fact that even at this moment, Dmitry might be cutting Keegan’s throat.

“What do you think’s happening now?” he asked the marshals.

Gomez didn’t look up from his tablet. “They’re arguing about whose car to take. Cunningham wants to take an Uber. The boss thinks it’s stupid, and I agree.”

Hartwell snorted at him. “You don’t think the guy who goes to this club all the time, who’s an officer there, knows what’s likely to tip people off? And it’s not as if our SUVs are subtle, you know? They scream ‘federal agents.’ They’ve got government plates, for crying out loud.”

She looked back at Pete. “It’s been five minutes, Pete. They haven’t gone far.”

Pete slouched in his seat. “It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so.” Gomez chuckled, his face softer. “For what it’s worth, we’re all nervous too. This whole plan is pretty far outside the norm for us, and Cooper didn’t want to tell many people about it. Something about preserving mission integrity.”

Pete tugged at his collar. “Yeah. I get that, I suppose. I’m sorry. I’m a wreck. I’m not usually like this.”

“I know you’re not.” Hartwell stretched her back. “But this is the guy you love, and you’re worried. He’s a civilian, going up against a literal monster.”

“I don’t think you’re helping, Marcia.” Gomez glared at his partner.

“Sorry.” Hartwell didn’t sound repentant, but she smiled at Pete and put a hand on his shoulder anyway. “Look. It’s natural to fret, but he’s going in there with the best marshal the service has ever had.

“And while the whole plan is well outside what we’d normally ever consider, it’s also … well, it makes sense. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated risk. One with high chance of succeeding.”

“If my ex doesn’t slaughter Keegan in the attempt.” Pete got up and paced again.

Keegan was a smart guy. If anyone had a chance of surviving the night, it was him. Still, an awful lot was hinging on the ability of a man with no military or law enforcement experience and his ability to handle an encounter with a ruthless killer and come out on top.

If Keegan didn’t come back, what would life be like for Pete? On the surface, Pete didn’t think much would change. He’d have to leave New York, but he wouldn’t want to stay anyway. He’d go right back to a life on the run, the life that had been just fine for him for two years. It wasn’t ideal, but he’d accepted it.

Now it seemed like an absolute vision of hell, and Pete didn’t have to look far to figure out why. It all came down to the father of his unborn baby. Keegan had taught him to expect more out of life than simply existing day to day, and Pete didn’t want to go back.

He didn’t want to do it without Keegan, either.

It felt good to finally get out to take action on Dmitry. Keegan and Cooper had been on pins and needles about him for a week, and Keegan had started to lose hope.

Maybe he got spooked. Maybe he ran off. Maybe someone had warned him — Keegan wasn’t foolish enough to think he had a monopoly on pulling strings, even at the Hellion Club.

Hell, that stuck-up bastard Banks would probably sell him out, just because it would get to Keegan.

Nothing could have made him happier than to find out that Dmitry was at the Club. As he and Cooper raced down to the street, Keegan could only hope that Pete made it through the night without spinning himself into a tornado of anxiety.

It was hard to be the one who had to stay behind, especially when they all knew someone was on the take. Keegan wasn’t thrilled about leaving him at home.

This was their best option. Dmitry wanted Pete more than anything else. Keegan might have understood that, if Dmitri’s “wanting” had resembled affection in the slightest way.

Dmitry had come to put his former husband in his place, and then murder him for his betrayal. Somehow, neither Keegan nor Cooper thought putting Dmitry and the object of his desire in the same building would be a strategic decision.

And for Dmitry, Pete had never been more than an object.

They argued about whether to take Cooper’s government-issued giant black SUV, announcing their arrival to everyone in the Tri-State Area, or a perfectly serviceable ride share.

In the end, they decided to take Keegan’s car, a vehicle he rarely used. It would stand out, but not as much as the SUV, and Cooper was right when he pointed out that if things went south, they weren’t going to have time to sit around waiting for a ride share to pick them up.

Once at the Club, they signed in. Relaxing and acting normal turned out to be a lot harder than Keegan had thought it would be. He kept scanning the crowd, looking for an unfamiliar face.

Cooper didn’t relax at all. “This whole place gives me the creeps,” he complained. “It’s like I stepped back in time to the 1890s, but with the sleaze of early-sixties Vegas mixed in for a little pizazz.”

“You wound me, Cooper.” He passed the marshal a drink and kept one for himself. “I know, I know, you can’t drink right now. It’s just for appearances.”

Keegan, on the other hand, had every intention of drinking. The fact that he was eager to finish this finally didn’t ease his nerves one bit.

Once Keegan’s eyes landed on Dmitry, he couldn’t fathom how he’d missed him. Maybe the Hellion Club out in California had a different dress code, but Dmitry’s velour Adidas track suit stood out like a sore thumb in this one.

Keegan had to huff out a little laugh. The next time anyone tried to give him grief about his own fashion sense, he would show them a picture of Dmitry and walk away.

Dmitry stood about as tall as Keegan with classic Russian features starting to sag as his forties crept up on him. He had a fit body, a huge gold cross and thick chain around his neck, and cold blue eyes that took in the whole room lacking even an ounce of pity. Keegan had no difficulty believing this man could torture and kill without flinching.

He had no problem believing Dmitry could hurt Pete, either, even if it made Keegan recoil. Most people made connections, on some level, but this one? It didn’t take a mind reader to figure out that Dmitry had no such human tenderness.

Maybe later, Keegan would take the time to sit around and try to understand. People didn’t usually come out of the womb like this. It took trauma, repeated trauma over a long period of time.

Keegan could try wrapping his head around Dmitry’s issues when his family was out of danger — Pete, their baby, and Ty.

He took a deep breath and nudged Cooper. Then he hopped off his barstool and sauntered up to meet his erstwhile rival. This was it — do or die time. Every power at his disposal, everything he’d ever used to make people underestimate him, had to hold up tonight.

He beamed at this monster who’d dared to break Pete’s wrist. “Jimmy! Buddy! Good to see you!”

Dmitry curled his lip, just a little bit. Had anyone ever dared to address him as Jimmy, or even to Americanize his name? Keegan would be shocked if they had.

“I don’t know you.” His eyes could have frozen a flow of lava. He put a hand on Keegan’s shoulder and tried to brush him aside. It probably worked on most of the people he dealt with day to day.

Keegan stood his ground. He didn’t look like much right now, especially not in a silk suit printed with three-eyed happy faces, but Keegan was a solid guy. He wasn’t moving without the entire New York offensive line to move him.

“You’re right.” He dropped his voice so only Dmitry could hear him. “You don’t know me. I know why you’re here, Dmitry.”

Two bright spots of red popped up in Dmitry’s cheeks, and turned his body to face Keegan more fully. “Ah, yes. I recognize you now.” He gave a thin, cold smile.

“You’ve stolen a possession from me, but I suppose you can hardly be expected to know the rules in your position. If you take me to my husband this instant, I’ll be forgiving. Piotr has neglected his responsibilities for far too long. He needs to be reminded of who he belongs to.”

It took everything in Keegan not to shiver at the cold, dismissive way Dmitry spoke. People were tools to this guy, nothing more. “Pete is not your husband anymore, sunshine. It’s the twenty-first century, and we don’t own omegas, either.”

He noticed Dmitry’s hand moving toward his hip. “Keep your hands where we can see them; this is a gunplay-free establishment. What you do in your own hotel room is up to you, of course, assuming all parties are consenting.

“That’s never been an issue for you, though, has it? Anyway, this isn’t the place for guns. We don’t solve our problems that way here. You got a problem with another Hellion, you take it to the Ring.”

Dmitry didn’t even pretend to hide his disdain. “You? Fighting me? This should be entertaining. Grab someone to lead the way.”

Keegan hadn’t been paying attention to the rest of the crowd. Now he could see that they had a huge audience. It had been a long time since anyone had challenged anyone else to a fight in the Ring, so everyone wanted to see.

Cooper’s face could have killed a whole legion, but he didn’t object. He couldn’t — it would blow his cover. Keegan had to be grateful.

He grabbed one of the football players in the club to lead them down to the old ring. Sanderson had an important role to play: he had to pat them down, make sure neither of them were armed, that the fight was fair. Unlike regular old bar fights, Hellion Club boxing matches had a complex set of rules and rituals that had to be observed before the participants could resolve their dispute.

One reason so few disputes got resolved in the Ring these days was the fact that most people got bored and worked their crap out before they got around to fighting.

Dmitry and Keegan wouldn’t be denying the rest of the Club their show today. The audience surrounded the ancient boxing ring while Keegan and Dmitry undressed.

Keegan almost reconsidered when he got a good look at his opponent. Dmitry was all but covered in old blue tattoos and scars. He hadn’t gotten his position through nepotism.

Each of those tattoos had been earned — Keegan had seen a documentary about them once. Keegan came from a lifetime of wealth and privilege. Who did he think he was, challenging a man like Dmitry?

Dmitry saw him looking and grinned widely. He knew what was going through Keegan’s mind. It was probably what went through all his opponents’ minds.

Keegan stood up straighter, stretched himself out, and shook himself loose. Let Dmitry think he could intimidate Keegan into surrender. He was just setting himself up for failure.

Keegan wasn’t here for shits and giggles. He was here to protect his family. This man — this foul and evil creature — wanted to take Pete away and hurt him, kill him.

He’d threatened Ty, too. Keegan had an obligation to protect Ty. Keegan was the only thing standing between this man and the omega and child he loved.

Dmitry could stand there and posture in his boxer shorts all day. He would never shake Keegan’s resolve.

Alden Delaney, the kind of nasty old goat who gave the Hellion Club a bad name, stepped up to act as referee. Keegan couldn’t object to that. He might be a disgusting old man, but he had a thorough knowledge of and respect for tradition, and he knew boxing. He wouldn’t let anyone get away with foul play.

Just as Keegan had expected, Delaney frisked them again before letting them start. Keegan did find himself surprised that Dmitry didn’t try to smuggle anything inappropriate into the Ring, but apparently his arrogance was just enough to keep him honest.

Dmitry had already sized him up during the lead-up to the fight. Now he came out swinging. In the Russian-mob trenches, he wouldn’t have had time to screw around. He would have had to come out fast, and get the job done right the first time.

A rapid attack made sense for him, and Keegan was ready for it. He blocked a flurry of punches, one right after the other. He’d have bruises on his arms for a week or more.

They were already forming on his arms, blue and purple flowers to match Dmitry’s tattoos. Dmitry hit like a truck, and they weren’t using gloves or safety equipment. Keegan had to be on his toes, or Dmitry would kill him.

Keegan bounced back, doing his best to stay out of Dmitry’s range. He blocked another shot from Dmitry, who scowled and tried to hit even harder when Keegan got out of the way. Wasn’t that interesting?

Keegan danced farther backwards, moving even faster. He’d just learned an important element of his opponent’s fighting style.

Dmitry attacked fast and hit hard, because that was what he’d had to do to survive coming up. He didn’t have a lot of stamina, though. Most of his opponents probably either died fast or ran away.

Dmitry was fast as hell, and for the first two minutes all Keegan could do was back up and block. After that, though, Dmitry’s blows had a lot less strength behind them. He didn’t chase Keegan around the ring as quickly as before.

Keegan saw his chance and pressed the offense with a right jab to the ribs, a left hook to the jaw, and an uppercut to the chin.

And Dmitry didn’t block a single one of them.

Keegan felt like a shark in a feeding frenzy. This man had hurt Pete. Bam! He smashed another uppercut into his jaw.

He’d come here with the intention of killing Pete. Slam! He plowed his fist into Dmitry’s nose.

He’d threatened Ty. Wham! Keegan bashed him in the side of the head, sending Dmitry reeling.

When Dmitry staggered back, Keegan decked him on the other side. Drops of sweat splashed from his light brown hair, catching in the light before falling to the ground.

Dmitry went down like a tree.

Keegan stood over him for a second. He ached. He hadn’t felt pain in the middle of the fight, but now everything hurt. His arms, in particular, were barking at him in rage and fury.

He needed to rest. He needed to get dressed. He needed to get home to Pete and tell him what had happened.

The other Hellions cheered. They’d gotten their money’s worth, after all. The good guy had won, even if none of them had the first clue what the fight had been about.

They faded away back up to the main bar or the library in pairs or trios, already talking about their portfolios or their children’s performance at school. They parted as Cooper moved through them without seeming to register his presence.

Cooper carried two drinks, and he walked up and handed one of them to Keegan. They stared at Dmitry for a second. “I should probably cuff him,” the marshal said, looking at Dmitry’s unconscious form.

“I’ll drink to that.” Keegan took a gulp from his martini.

Cooper reached for his cuffs, ignoring the horror-struck look on Alden Delaney’s face. “You going to wear pants again in this lifetime, Cupcake?”

Keegan chuckled, and then winced. When had Dmitry gotten a hit to his chest? “Yeah, I should probably do that. Can I get a picture of Dmitry in cuffs?”

“You most certainly cannot!” Delany sniffed. “This is the Ring! We don’t photograph — you can’t handcuff him here! This is a public area!”

Cooper gaped at Delaney, and Keegan burst out laughing. He grabbed his phone, took a picture while Cooper snapped the cuffs, and sent it to Pete. “Show him your badge, Cooper, so the old goat stops doing his best impression of a fish out of water.”

Cooper reached for his badge. At the same time, Dmitry jerked awake. He didn’t have any moment of grogginess or confusion. He reached for his belongings, with his gun neatly set on top of his folded pants. His hands were cuffed in front of him, but that didn’t stop him from grabbing the weapon and turning around to take aim at Keegan.

Keegan put his hands up. It was probably a futile gesture, but it had been drummed into him. If a gun was aimed at him, he was supposed to put his hands up until he could find an alternative way out of the situation.

Cooper had no such instincts. If he ever had, they’d been trained out of him a long time ago.

A shot rang out, and Dmitry fell over. The stink of gunpowder filled the room.

Keegan reached for his drink. He couldn’t take his eyes off the dead body. “Holy shit.” He took a big gulp from the drink, draining it.

“You had no choice.” Delaney put a hand on Cooper’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about this, young man.”

Cooper turned huge eyes onto Delaney, and Keegan remembered himself. “Thanks, Delaney.” He set his drink down and got his suit back on, as quickly as he could. “Come on, Cooper. Let’s go wait for the ME’s van.”

Cooper followed Keegan like a lost man. “What’s going on here?” he asked. He probably meant for the question to sound tough, but it just came out plaintive and forlorn.

“They’re sending someone around to the service entrance.” Keegan sipped from his drink as they walked through the bowels of the Club. “We can’t have the bad publicity, and we don’t want corpses in the bar, anyway. We’ll send him to the ME’s office, and then we can head home.” He fumbled for his keys. “I’m okay with that.”