That was all I had in me, because hella shock syndrome here. Maxwell Raith left with a threat to my loved ones and I’m pretty sure I might never see my father again, so yeah… There weren’t words to summarize that, not that I would because this was Zeke.

And speaking of Zeke—I frowned and asked at the same time Blaise came running around the house, “What the hell are you doing here?”

He scoffed, but Blaise stopped next to him, raking me over, and he’s the one who answered. “Cross called, said he got a message from your brother that you were in trouble.” He looked around, scanning the backyard. “What the fuck? What happened?”

Yeah.

There was that whole situation where I couldn’t tell any of them about.

I shrugged. “I’m fine. I mean, there were people here, but they’re not and I’m good.”

I waited.

They didn’t leave.

“I mean, thanks for coming, but I’m good.”

They still didn’t leave.

They shared a look.

Zeke raised an eyebrow.

Blaise grunted. “Me too.”

Both looked at me—eerie.

Blaise said, “Sorry, but no fucking way. My brother called me for help. I’m not moving till his ass gets back and he can grovel in thanks at my feet.”

Zeke grinned, but he had the graciousness to glance at the ground. His shoulders were shaking.

“Knock it off,” I snapped at him. He didn’t, and I had to add, “Why aren’t you in a counselor’s office or something? Shouldn’t you be permanently scarred? Your frat frenemy was kidnapped last night.”

His shoulder stopped and his head snapped back up. “Thanks for the reminder, and you’re welcome. We came to help your ass.”

Like they could’ve done anything. I shook my head. “Whatever. I’m fine. I’ll send Cross to ‘grovel’ at your feet later.”

Except as soon as I finished speaking, another set of car tires were heard, pulling up on the driveway and slamming to a stop. More car doors.

More running.

This time female voices.

“That’s Blaise’s Wagon—BLAISE!”

“It’s locked.”

More doorbell ringing.

A dull-sounding knock on the door. My guess, someone was hitting it with the bottom of their palm.

“What are you doing?”

“I just got my nails done. I like Bren, but no way am I ruining my manicure.”

Someone snorted. “Priorities, man.”

Zeke snorted/laughed, and elbowed Blaise in the ribs.

Blaise groaned, his head falling back. “What the fuck?” He started walking around to the front of the house. “WE’RE BACK HERE! And what the hell are you doing here?”

They came from the other side of the house, and Blaise turned around, looking past me.

Frustration evident on his face as he started walking toward me. “Aspen, I told you—”