He was clearing the front lawn in record time.

I was opening the door.

The door was caught and wrenched open, and then my brother was there and I was once again caught in a tight hold and I was being pulled back outside.

A ripple went through Channing as he just held me.

“I’m ok—”

“Shut up. I need this.” His tone came out strangled and rough.

I let myself be held, and held, and held.

Another ripple went through my brother before he growled, shaking his head. “I’m going to rip his head off. I’m going to—”

I just let him say the threats. He needed to spew them out.

After my moment with Cross, I called my brother and told him everything that happened. I wanted him to know, but it hadn’t mattered. He still wanted to murder our dad. I knew he wouldn’t, but I was letting my brother have his feelings. Super healthy of me, right?

But then Moose was next.

Congo.

Lincoln.

I wasn’t prepared for the full team of his bounty hunting office.

It was thirty minutes later when another truck pulled up, and Channing, who hadn’t been able to make it into the house yet, stiffened. “What the hell—”

A blonde fireball was heading our way.

And a hand shot up in the air as she bypassed him, going right for me. “You fucking tell me your sister is in trouble, and don’t wait for me?!” But then Heather was in front of me and she took a moment, touching my sides before tears welled up in her eyes. “If they had done anything to you—” But she was done talking, too.

I was hauled in for another hug.

She was rocking me back and forth, her whole body trembling. “I would’ve killed them. All of them. I would’ve taken a hunting knife with me, and ripped them from balls to throat, and then I would’ve hacked off their legs, their arms. I would’ve kept the head for last—”

“God. Woman. I love this graphic side of you.” Channing was smirking next to us. “Please, tell us more.”

She tensed, but her hand moved and I heard a smacking sound.

Channing just laughed before easing in, sliding an arm between us and he stepped back, Heather in his arms. She growled up at him and tried to grab for his head. “You—”

He evaded her hold, still laughing and said to me, “Excuse me. I need to make things up with my woman, or I’m in for a world of hurt that’ll last a year.”

“Damn right, you are.”

He picked her up, heading into the house, and I had a feeling he was taking her to the basement. I just hoped they didn’t go to Jordan’s room because … gross.

Heather wasn’t alone.

Scratch had been standing on the sidelines, waiting for his turn.