“No. No. Don’t get scared. I’m sorry. I’m reacting like this because you’re my sister, and you’re three hours away from me, but I’m leaving. I’ll be there in a few hours. Is Dad still there?”

“Yeah. I think.”

“I’m going to call him, see if he knows anything.”

And that just tightened my chest all over again. I felt like someone was squeezing my entire body in one giant grip. Squeeeeeze.

“Did they or whoever you saw think you recognized them?”

Again. No answer from me.

“Shit! No.”

I pulled into the driveway, parking beside Cross’ truck and I turned the engine off, leaving the keys in the ignition. Each outburst from Channing was setting me on edge. I was so far on the edge, I was off of it. I was in the air, hanging suspended over a cliff. And how I wasn’t falling, I didn’t have a clue.

“Bren.”

I did not like how soft my brother’s voice just got.

“Bren, you have to know that Brennan calling you down there today might’ve been a ploy.”

“I thought that guy was your friend.”

“Not anymore.”

I frowned. “What do you mean, a ploy?”

I leaned forward. From where I parked, I could see the backyard of the house. I couldn’t fully see the patio table, but there was a chair pulled out. And beyond, was that… I leaned even more forward until I recognized what I was seeing.

“They’re here.”

My brother had been talking. I hadn’t registered, and I was the one who cut him off.

I said it again, “They’re here. They’re in the backyard. They have Cross.” And I was scrambling.

“Bren!”

The phone was turned off as I was out the door and running for the backyard.

I had no plan. No weapon. No ways to escape. I just had me, a panicked heart, as I rounded the corner, my heart stopped.

The guys were home.

Or they were supposed to be home.

But no. No one was back there, except—“Dad?”

He was standing on the patio. Arms folded. Head bent down. No. He wasn’t standing. He was pacing, and he whipped his head up at my voice, then immediately shot a frown at the other guy with him. Maxwell Raith. Unlike my dad, whose shoulders were tight and he seemed strung-out, his MC president looked anything but. Feet kicked out. Head leaning back, his face up for the sun, and as he saw me, too, he lifted up his arms in a big stretch over his head.

“Bren.” My dad started for me, but stopped. He sent another glance to Raith.

I was looking.