Rafe had taken him down so many times during their matches, but this was real. This wasn’t a training session or a controlled fight inside a cage with screaming fans crowding around to watch. This was bad.

“The little bitch was running straight to you. I’m not stupid. Did she call you? Tell me what she said, every word. I need to know.”

“Seriously, Zach. I never heard from her.”

“She’s always wanted you, and now she’s”—his voice broke—“gone. Just like that. This is your fault! I swear to God, I’ll tear you to pieces if you don’t tell me what she told you.”

“I was convicted of raping her, remember?” Rafe’s tone barely concealed a lethal edge. “So why would she come here? That doesn’t make any sense.”

God, he was clever, and it made me love him all the more. Zach couldn’t argue with him, not without incriminating himself.

“Then why’d they pull her car from the river down the fucking highway?” he yelled.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t go on without her,” Zach choked. “I won’t.”

“C’mon, man…” Rafe’s voice faltered, and my spine stiffened. Something had him scared. “Put the gun down.”

I gasped, then slapped my hands over my mouth, but it was too late. The sound echoed in my ears like a blaring siren, and I was certain Zach heard it.

“Tell your hookup to get her ass down here.”

“This is between you and me,” Rafe said. “I barely know her. She doesn’t need to be part of this.”

“Get down here now!” Zach shouted.

I stumbled down the stairs, my legs shaking so badly, Rafe steadied me to keep me from sprawling on my ass. He pushed me behind him, but not before I saw Zach’s eyes bulge.

“The hell?” He jabbed the gun in Rafe’s direction. “Lex?”

“Go home,” I told him, hating how my voice quaked. “I called the cops. Th-they’ll be here any minute.” It was a lie, Rafe knew it, as I didn’t have access to a phone, and I was positive Zach knew it too from the way I tripped over the words.

“Un-fucking-believable.” Zach’s bitter laugh made me cringe. “Do you think I give a shit about the cops? Let them come.”

Rafe was strung so tightly, I worried he’d strike at any second, but he reached a hand behind his back and clutched mine, as if I could anchor him. “What do you want, Zach?” he asked.

“I want you dead.”

I swallowed a sob and clung to Rafe’s hand. “Please, leave us alone.”

Zach gestured at me with the gun. “Get over here.”

“N-no.”

Rafe’s shoulders bunched, and his fingers squeezed mine.

“Now!” Zach staggered forward. “Get over here, or I swear to God, I’ll shoot him.”