“I get it, protective brothers and all,” Chloe says, coming into view, and I want to die that nearly everyone I’m close with is here to witness my embarrassment. “It’s hard for women to open up to their brothers. How about this? You guys chill in the living room and let us girls talk, okay?”

Before anyone answers, Maliki and Sierra walk through the door, their eyes shooting straight to me. Sierra’s cheeks are red, and Maliki’s fists are clenched.

“Bedroom. Now,” Sierra demands.

I nod and hop off the couch, but before I can go to my bedroom, I whip around to face Lincoln.

“You told them,” I cry out in despair.

“Did you expect him not to?” Rex asks. “I’d fucking hate the dude if he didn’t.”

Lincoln shakes his head, torture and guilt clouding his features. “I told Archer, and he must’ve told them.” He gulps, taking a step closer to me. “I’m sorry, Cassidy, but we both know this is what needed to happen.”

“Screw you,” I hiss, tears approaching. “I trusted you!”

His eyes water. “I know.” He bows his head. “I know.”

“Archer told Cohen, who told Maliki,” Sierra explains. “Archer was unsure what to do about an employee being in possible danger, so he asked Cohen. He told Cohen not to tell Maliki, but Cohen felt he couldn’t hide something like that from his best friend.”

“I’m going to kill my brother,” Lincoln grits out, his eyes not leaving me.

“You should’ve told us,” Maliki says.

“I just found out last night!” Lincoln screams, throwing up his arms. “I’ve been trying to talk her into going to the police and giving her time to process, not barging in and complicating shit for her. This has already messed with her head enough, and no offense, but she doesn’t need people screaming at her while she’s recovering. I planned to try to talk it out with her again today. She needs time, like some victims do.”

Everyone is shocked into silence at Lincoln’s response, no one expecting those words to leave him.

He thought he was going to change my mind.

Wow. Is that why he stayed here with me—to try to talk me into turning Quinton in?

Sierra gently grabs my elbow. “Your bedroom. Now.”

I nod, turning my back on the man whose betrayal hurts deeper than Quinton’s, and everyone with a vagina follows me into my bedroom.

“Let me see,” Sierra demands, taking the lead, her tone as sharp as Rex’s. “I’m not going to yell, but I need to see.”

While taking a seat on the bed, my mother snivels, her eyes glued to me like her favorite soap opera.

With a heavy breath, I pull my sweatshirt over my head.

“I’m going to kill the bastard myself,” Sierra hisses.

“Just …” I shake my head. “It’s over.”