Without warning, the front door flew open, and I tensed until I saw the man-boy standing in the doorway. His breathing was coming in heavy pants as he scanned the room until his eyes landed on me. As soon as our gazes locked, he stumbled forward briefly before righting himself.

I jumped up and threw myself into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he caught me, holding me against his heaving chest as he pressed his forehead to mine. “Tell me you’re okay.”

“I am,” I whispered. “But I told you not to come.”

As soon as I’d snapped out of my daze at the hospital, I’d realized that River had spoken to Ryan when I called to warn him about Ramirez. I’d called him back as soon as I could from Mom’s phone, telling him that I was safe, that I was fine, that everything was going to be okay. He needed to stay in New York. Ramirez would expect him to run to me and be waiting to ambush him.

Of course, he hadn’t listened. There was no talking to Ryan once he thought I was in danger. Or sad. Or angry. If I so much as had a sniffle when he called, he was on his way straight to California just to make sure I wasn’t sick. It was what made him such a great best friend.

But it also made him predictable to his enemies.

“I had to see with my own eyes that you were okay,” he said before kissing my forehead.

I hugged him, enjoying just having him close for a moment. But all too soon, he was setting me on my feet and then guiding me back to the couch, where he pushed me onto the cushion and then crouched before me. His thumb stroked over my swollen, scabbed-over bottom lip before brushing my hair over my shoulder so he could examine my neck better.

At the sight of the damage done by his enemy’s hands, Ryan’s eyes began to glitter with a rage I’d rarely seen from him. It scared me, because I knew when he got that look in his beautiful dark eyes, he got reckless. And reckless was dangerous.

I caught his hand and gave it a firm squeeze. “I’m okay,” I told him again.

“Yeah, man, she’s fine,” Garret said with a laugh as he propped a leg up on one of the recliner’s arms.

I closed my eyes, praying my brother would grow a brain in the next ten seconds.

Of course, he didn’t.

Ryan stood slowly, his eyes raking over Garret dispassionately. “Where were you?” he asked quietly.

The same question that Dad had asked only minutes before, but it was a hundred times more dangerous coming from Ryan Vitucci.

My parents—hell, everyone in my family except for my brother—were so over-the-top overprotective of me that it was annoying. I couldn’t sneeze without people feeling my forehead to make sure I wasn’t running a fever. If someone looked at me wrong, they were instantly put in their place. If someone bullied me, their life was turned upside down until they realized the error of their ways and made amends.