There were three other guys on the far side of the lawn, but they were lingering and talking to each other. A few looked over, but went back to their conversation. One was on his phone and he lifted his head, shooting us a frown as if we’d interrupted what text he was sending. All of them wore Red Demons cuts, all looked rough. And all could’ve been the same guys I saw take Harper last night. Their body types fit.

“Bren Monroe.”

Maxwell brought my attention back to him, and he sat up, but kicked out the chair across from him. He nodded to it. “Take a seat.” There was an edge to his voice. That wasn’t a request. It was a command.

My legs turned wooden.

The guys behind them seemed relaxed. They weren’t primed for battle, but everything from my dad was saying the opposite. And Raith, I was getting the sense this was another day in his life. No big, no little, just...it was what it was, but it could go bad real quick and he had no problem with that.

I sat. “Where are the guys?”

My dad sucked in a breath, but he didn’t respond.

Maxwell did. This was the Max show, and the authority coming from him was just cementing that to me. “They got a call from your brother. Something about how you were arrested at the precinct and were already being transported to Roussou.”

“What?” I frowned. “Channing wouldn’t call and say that. I was just on the phone with him.”

A strangled gargle came from my dad, but Maxwell ignored him.

He smiled at me, as if placating me. “Of course your brother didn’t make that call, but one of my guys rigged up a handy-dandy voice app and the message that your boyfriend got was from your brother, just not currently being said. If that makes sense?”

No. It didn’t, but they weren’t here.

That’s all I cared about, and with that, I sat back and one of the many knots inside loosened up. Just one. The rest were still tight and wound up.

“This is about the cop I just talked to?”