“We need to talk,” South said. His hair was damp as if he’d just gotten out of the shower. I didn’t know if he’d come from his place or if he’d stayed in the guest house, which was more than big enough for him and East. I figured the latter.

“We want to talk to you, too,” East began, then gave West a miserable glance. “But we feel like shit. South’s going first. We’ll hit you up later.” He stood, West followed as they went into the great room and flopped down on the couches. West flung his arm over his eyes and groaned.

“I have to go to work,” I told South. “With the bad weather, Paul grounded the helicopter.” Paul was the pilot, who’d sent me an early morning text, as usual, if it was a no-go.

He shoved a to-go cup at me. “I’ll drive.”

Eddie was at my heels. He seemed to know the days I drove and always wanted to tag along. Everyone in the office loved him.

South headed for the garage, and I had no choice but to follow. He was mad at me. I didn’t blame him, but nothing was going to change. I opened the back door of the car and Eddie jumped in. He did a circle, then sat down and stared at me, his tongue hanging out.

South didn’t say much for the first few minutes of the ride, letting me sip my coffee in peace. The wipers were hypnotic, and the sound of the rain drowned out the radio.

“What’s up with Jed Barnett?” he asked finally. “Do we need to beat the shit out of him?”

Slowly, I turned to face him, leaned against the door of the SUV. It was the car he’d chosen from the three I rotated driving, depending on mood and weather.

“Out of everything from last night, you want to know about Jed?”

“You didn’t tell us much,” he countered, giving me a death glare. Yeah, he wasn’t happy. “Why the fuck did you save us?”

So much for talking about Jed.

“Because I had the power to do so.”

He chewed on that for a bit. I watched as he strangled the steering wheel and ground his back molars. “There’s so much to unpack in that sentence, I don’t know where to start. So I won’t. Right now,” he added, making sure he knew we weren’t done. “Jed Barnett.”

“Yeah, Jed Barnett,” I repeated.

“He seems to be able to handle you.”

I returned his death glare. “Handle me?”

“You’re too fucking strong.”

“You make me out to be a bitch, which is totally sexist, by the way.”

He gave me a look. “Don’t put words in my mouth. You need a big guy to shoulder some of that load for you and spank your ass for what you did.”