As if he’s aware, his eyes seem to gleam, but he holds his frown in place, putting me on edge even more when he says, “You went there to regain control of your own mind, but you have no idea what jumping at Scott’s call screams inside his.”

Screw Scott, what the hell is happening here?

It’s as if Ransom found a dark corner in my mind and took up shop there, discovering all my inner issues and blurring truths.

It’s anxiety-inducing, so I pivot, call on my mother’s training and hide all hints of humanism. I have to.

Stand calm, speak cold, and don’t forget to smile.

“I can handle Scott Gentry.” This time, it’s me who moves closer. “And if I want to handle him, I can do that too.”

His nostrils flare, and an angry little growl escapes, gaining his friends’ attention.

Slowly, they walk closer, and Ransom nearly knocks me on my ass when his chest bumps into mine. “I should have let you get arrested, you deserved it the second you climbed behind the wheel.”

My brows cave and he jerks away from me.

“If you ever think about drinking and driving again, don’t.” His words are a menacing command, low and deep.

He doesn’t have to vocalize how I’ll regret it; his words are dipped in the threat.

With erratic movements, he snags his sweater from the back of the chair, quickly tugging it over his head, and without a word, the others do the same.

They’re out the door not thirty seconds later.

Just like that, I’m reminded they are a unit, and I don’t have one.

It takes a second to remember that’s the way I like it.

Chapter 12

My phone alerts me that the Uber Eats driver has just left my coffee on the porch, so I throw my legs over the side of the lounge chair, but before I can push to my feet, my side gate rattles, and my head snaps that way.

Beretta hops over the fence with a wink, and I cross my arms as he opens the gate, revealing Ransom and Arsen on the other side of it.

Arsen smirks, holding up his hand, my coffee tucked inside it, an entire tray of coffees in the other.

Ransom grabs it along with another from the drink carrier and slips ahead of them, so I drop back in the chair and let the guy bring it to me.

He offers me both, and I gladly accept.

“Thank you.” I tilt my head.

Ransom must be wondering what exactly lies behind the dark lenses over my eyes, because he pushes them up onto my head.

He frowns. “I’m not seeing anger.”

I scoff, and bring my drink to my lips, reveling in the rich aroma before taking a small sip. Delicious.