Brock clasped her on the shoulder, dipping his head to her. “Channing had a word with their father on her phone, then Monroe handed it over and took off. I’m assuming he went to the hospital, or maybe not. Demons have their own medical people, so he probably went there. Channing just said to keep her tight, that you’d be coming for her, and to hand off her phone to you.” He dug it out of his pocket, extending it to me.

I pocketed it, sharing a look with Jordan.

He was moving his head left to right, mirroring how I was feeling. He moved in, intending only for me to hear. “This is insane. Her dad’s shit? All the crap she’s been through, and now this?”

Yeah.

I wasn’t happy either.

Brock overheard, and his eyebrows pulled low. “This is the Red Demons. We’re not their most central location, but they have a good stronghold here.”

“Where?”

He started to answer, then stopped. “No. I’m not doing that.” He moved aside, gesturing to their offices again. “Get your girl. Take her home. When she’s good, she can come back.”

Jordan snorted. “That’s not how we work.”

I gave him a dark look, and he shut up.

No. That wasn’t how we worked, but at this point, we didn’t need to broadcast it.

We were in. We were being pulled in.

The dad showed up at Bren’s workplace. Bren snapped, and now, we’d see this through, no matter where it would take us. That’s what we did. And fuck, I hoped that wherever this took us, whatever we had to do to help Bren move on from whatever made her snap, that it did not mean we’d be taking on that entire MC.

“We’ll get Bren and go.”

“Hey.”

He called to us as we took a step through their group.

I looked back.

He had both eyebrows raised, halfway up his forehead. “Tell me you’re not about to do something seriously stupid.”

Jordan smiled, moving to block me from his view. “Don’t worry. We’re not about to do something seriously stupid.” He turned around, met my gaze, and I knew we both were thinking the same thing.

We were about to do something seriously stupid.

Chapter Forty-Five

BREN

Apparently, I still had issues with my dad. Go figure.

I knew those feelings were there, just not how strong they were. They were packed in there, layer upon layer of them, and fuck, if I hadn’t a clue how to get that shit out. No way was I heading back to counseling. I couldn’t handle the first stint I’d been court-ordered to do.

I needed to work out. Fight. Maybe drink. Fuck. That’d get it all out of my system, or so I was telling myself that when Cross and Jordan came into the office.