A wave of love rolled from her heart to the tips of her fingertips. She had no familiarity with falling in love. But because of her love for Dylan, Tess and Rudy, and others, she definitely did know what love was. She recognized the staunch commitment at its core. The fierce protectiveness. The willingness to sacrifice for the other. The determination to hold on.

Do the math, you ninny. You love him.

A tornado had formed within Sebastian back when Dylan had told him Leah’s location.

It was still spinning.

Still stirring up old terror and pain.

He studied Leah’s face. “Your cheek,” he said.

“Oh.” Her hand lifted to her swollen cheekbone. “Do I have a bruise?”

He dipped his chin, wanting to kill Claire’s dad. He’d arrived just in time to see the man clock Leah with his elbow. The sight had affected him like a body blow, and after that, he didn’t remember exiting his car or running forward.

She reached out and skated a fingertip across the throbbing skin next to his eye, leaving sparks. He inhaled raggedly.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Then so am I.”

“Thank you. For defending us.”

He didn’t reply.

She tucked her hands into the front pockets of her jeans. “How did you know where to find me?”

“Dylan. He checked his app and told me where you were.” Inside himself, he was fighting his temper with just as much strength as he’d used earlier with Claire’s dad. “Why did you come here?”

“Claire texted me and said that her dad was on a rampage. I called the police, but they were at the scene of an accident. I drove here and told Claire’s dad that I was scheduled to take the kids to the library.”

Nearby, a metal lawn chair lay on its side. It, and the situation he’d found when he’d arrived, gave evidence to the chaos that had resulted from her attempt to help.

“Claire’s dad wouldn’t allow Claire to leave with me,” she went on, “so Claire climbed out her window. Her dad caught us and dragged Claire toward the house.”

“At which time you confronted an abusive man who owns guns?”

“His other kids confronted him. I was just trying to keep everyone safe.”

“You could have been hurt badly.”

“And yet, look.” She spread her hands. “I’m fine.”

“You could have been hurt badly,” he repeated.

“But I wasn’t.”

“But you could have been.”

A short pause. “You . . . might be reacting slightly overprotectively.” Her tone was mild.

She was accusing him of being overprotective? That was rich. She wouldn’t allow her brother two seconds of freedom. Yet he was supposed to be fine with watching her get whacked in the face by an enraged man?