“‘Rot in hell with your white trash, murdering brother,’” Julian reads, before passing the note to Aiden. “What is with him and his fascination with saying white trash? Clearly some of his own insecurities are manifesting here.”

Annalisa rips the note from Aiden’s hands, crumpling it up for the hundredth time and throwing it on the floor. “I don’t care! How are we killing him? I vote slowly.”

There’s another knock at the door, and we open it for Chase and Noah. Chase looks worriedly between us before his gaze finally lands on Charlotte. “Hey, are you guys all right?”

Charlotte looks away and fidgets with the hem of her sleeve.

“We’re fine,” I tell him. “Where’s Mason?”

“He’s coming. He stopped to pick up some food for everyone,” Noah says, taking in Luke’s apartment for the first time.

“We have some plywood in the back of my truck.” Julian analyzes the broken window. “It should be the right size. Let’s get this window covered up then figure out the rest.”

Annalisa’s anger is still palpable but simmering down a bit, especially now that Julian, her voice of reason, is here. She hugs Julian before he leaves and as he kisses her forehead sweetly some tension leaves her shoulders.

“You sure you’re okay?” Aiden’s standing right in front of me, concern in his cool eyes and a double meaning in his tone.

He remembers. I know it deep in my gut, know it better than I know my own name. He remembers the story of how Tony threw a brick through my window. He knows this bothered me in more ways than one. He knows what memories this brings up.

I grab his solid hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, my eyes softening as I look at him. “I’m okay.”

He studies me. I don’t think he’s totally convinced but he lets it go anyway, dropping my hand to follow the guys outside.

While they go grab the tools and wood from Julian’s pickup, Annalisa, Charlotte, and I sit still on the couch. It’s a good thing the guys thought to do that. I honestly wasn’t processing anything other than “It’s not Tony. You’re not going to die.”

“I don’t understand how Ryan knew we were here?” Charlotte wonders. “He wasn’t camping out in front of this apartment until he saw someone familiar walk in the building.”

“Maybe he was following us?” I suggest, glancing at the boys as they come back in the apartment, this time with Mason, who drops brown paper bags in front of us.

“You guys okay?” he asks, his eyes lingering a bit too long on me. I bite my lip, memories of the last time we were together at Noah’s party rushing back to me.

“We’re fine. I’m pissed.” Annalisa answers for us, then returns to our conversation as we dig into the fries and chicken nuggets Mason brought. “Was he stalking us?”

Charlotte raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you think he has something better to do with his time than follow us around all day?”