He caught her by the arms. Christ, his voice was still breaking. “Layne. Layne, please. Let me—”

She spun, her fists slamming into his chest. For her size, she hit with surprising force, driving her rage into him.

“How could you?” she yelled, her voice thick with tears. “How could you do this?”

“Please. I didn’t know—”

She hit him again. “How could you hate me so much—”

“I don’t hate you.” He caught her arms. “I didn’t know you were there. I would never—”

“Oh my god, please just let me go. Please.”

She was struggling against him, and it made him sick to think of her fighting Ryan Stacey. He let her go.

She staggered across the lawn. “I need to get out of here.”

“Let me take you. I can drive you home—”

“I can’t go home. Just go away. You did this—”

“Goddamn it, Layne.” He caught her again, looking down at her streaked face, her tangled hair. God, she was killing him, with every word, every step. “I did not do this. I would never do this. And I swear to Christ if you don’t let me drive you somewhere, I’m going to go back down there and break that guy’s neck.”

Heather’s front porch light exploded.

Layne jumped and gave a little cry. She was shaking, and Gabriel had no idea whether it was from what Ryan had done—or from what he was doing right now.

But at least she was looking at him, her eyes wide, searching his face.

“Come on,” he said.

She took a deep breath, then nodded.

Gabriel found the car down the road a ways. Layne had her belt buckled and her arms folded tightly across her chest before he even got in, and her eyes were focused out the window. It reminded him of the first night he’d driven her home, when she’d declared so vehemently I’m not Heather Castelline.

Obviously.

Gabriel started the engine and drove toward town. He didn’t have a clear destination in mind, but she’d said she couldn’t go home, and he sure as hell couldn’t take her to his.

At the first stop sign he glanced over. “Did he hurt you?”

Her eyes didn’t leave the window. “No.”

A thousand questions burned his lips, but she was so closed off. She might bolt from the car if he pushed.

He could kill Taylor. He should have told Chris to throw her in the pool.

The air felt sharp, sparking with tension. Gabriel reached out and flicked on the radio, keeping the volume low. One of those guitar ballads rolled through the car, something that felt like it should have been a slow song, but really wasn’t.

Finally, her arms loosened, just a little. “I’m such an idiot. I should have known.”