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“It’s Phoenixes’ history.”

“It was eight years ago.”

“History,” he repeats.

The rookie is looking between us. “So, it happened?”

“No.”

“Yes,” Mercer says.

I turn around. “I can trade you.”

“No, you can’t.” He laughs.

“I know people.”

That only makes him laugh harder.

Deacon bumps the toe of his stick against mine. “Come on, Cap. What’d they make you do?”

I exhale through my nose. “Karaoke.”

His face falls with disappointment. “That’s it?”

“No.” I glare at Mercer.

He grins.

I look back at Tallis. “Let’s just say ABBA was involved.”

“Oh, that’s why it’s called⁠—”

“Now you’re catching on.” Mercer laughs.

“Stop encouraging him, you asshole.”

“Which song?” Deacon asks, looking back and forth between me and Mercer.

I don’t answer, but of course Mercer does. “Money, Money, Money.”

Deacon stares at me. Then shrugs. “That’s not so bad.”

I point at him. “That’s exactly what I said.”

“Because he’s leaving out the money,” Mercer says.

I turn. “Shut the fuck up.”

Too late. Jax has drifted close enough to hear us. His grin spreads.

“Oh, are we telling the rookie about Bish Bucks?”

“We are not calling them Bish Bucks.”

“What money?” Deacon asks.

Jax answers before I can stop him. “They printed fake bills.”