He was watching Harper, and seeing who Harper was talking to—now he saw me and he saw me watching him. That was enough. He grimaced, swearing under his breath (not hard to read lips when someone says ‘fuck’) and then two guys walked past them, and they were gone.

I looked but couldn’t see them.

“I saw him. At a street party. He was looking at Harper and I thought that was weird. Kess was coming to help us out because that’s how she is.”

“She was crew. That makes sense.”

“That guy, he’s her boyfriend?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He opened the door and introduced himself, and as soon as he did, I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell Kess. I was supposed to tell him.”

“Why? Who was he?”

“His name was Chris Raith.”

Raith.

Maxwell Raith.

Then I remembered what Cross told me.

“My brother told Cross that there’s rumors the Red Demons had a student on campus.”

“I don’t know about that, but I recognized that name you guys said at your meeting. Maxwell Raith and this guy had the same last name, and I saw a motorcycle in the dorm room’s parking lot so I just told him. I had no clue.”

Jesus.

She was blindly going forth, sending a message that she didn’t even fully understand.

She kept on, “The guy said Kess was grabbing her laundry, but I could wait if I wanted. And I told him, ‘I think I’m here for you actually.’ And then I said Harper’s name. I said, ‘Drake sent me. It’s Harper.’ After that, I bolted. Literally turned and sprinted out of there. I never even saw Kess. And I didn’t know what would happen until the next morning. Jessinda came in my room, half-sobbing and hysterical because the guys all witnessed Harper get kidnapped. Right in front of them. Guys with masks and guns. Scary shit, huh?”

She had no clue.

“I was there, Tab.”

“What?”

“I was there.” I already told her before. “They took him in front of me.”

I was remembering them, too. The guy in the white mask. Heckler stopping and staring at me.

Another shiver went down my spine.

I didn’t want to go back there, when Maxwell Raith was in my backyard. No way, no how. Another nightmare for someone else, not me. That was behind me, or it would be now that I knew all the connecting dots.

And that also meant that Drake had used me.

“I’m sorry, Bren—”

I stood up, cutting her off. “I don’t want to hear it.”

My stomach was churning.

Tabatha.

Drake.

I didn’t know how to do any of this. How to be used and be okay with that? That wasn’t the game I played in life.

I played no games. I didn’t know how.

But fuck them. I knew that much.