“We’re going to break their lives apart,” Jax states, his fingers briefly stiffening in mine. “We’re also going to do everything in our power to make this game stop before it can even get started.”

I look at him. “How are you going to do that?”

He lifts a shoulder as we hike down the path toward the driveway. “I’m not sure. We need to see who we’re working against first, and then go from there.”

I scrunch up my nose. “I don’t want you guys getting hurt.”

Jax gives my hand a squeeze. “We’ll be okay.”

“You promise?” I ask worriedly.

His lips tug into a half-smile, and then he hitches his pinkie with mine. “I pinkie promise.”

The words spill comfort through my veins, and I relax a smidgeon by the time we reach Hunter’s car. At the passenger door, he removes his arm from around my shoulders, opens the door, and holds it open for me like a gentleman.

I smile at him then reach to flip the seat forward so I can climb in the back. However, Hunter captures me by the arm, stopping me.

“Sit in front with us,” he suggests when I glance at him. “There’s a seat belt in the middle seat.”

I eye the bench seat. It looks roomy enough, I guess. It does seem a bit weird, though, to be riding in the middle, crammed between them when there’s plenty of room in the back seat. Still, I climb in, and Jax slides in beside me, slipping an arm along the back of the seat right behind my head. He offers me a smile as he buckles his seat belt with his free hand. I do mine up, too, while Hunter climbs in and shuts the door. He fastens his seat belt then starts up the car, the engine roaring to life.

“I know I’ve said this before,” I say to Hunter as I get situated, “but your car is so pretty.”

With his hands resting on top of the steering wheel, he flicks a smile in my direction. “You’re so pretty.”

“And you’re so cheesy,” I quip.

“I’m going to second that,” Jax says, shaking his head.

“For sure,” Hunter agrees. “But my cheesiness makes you blush.” He quickly sweeps his fingers along my cheek before resting one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the shifter, which is right beside my leg. Then he shifts into reverse and backs down the driveway and onto the road.

Hardly anyone is out, yet it’s barely even eight o’clock. Then again, it’s a school night, which doesn’t matter to Jax or Hunter, apparently. And I guess Zay, too, since he’s not home, either.

“I have to admit,” I find myself saying, “that I’ve never actually done anything like this before.”

Hunter tilts his head toward me as he flips on the brights. “Done anything like what?”

I lift a shoulder. “Going out and getting drunk on a school night. It’s not like I don’t because I hate being bad. I’ve just never had the opportunity.” I pick at my chipped nail polish, feeling kind of silly for saying that aloud, but also feeling like it needed to be said. “So, thanks for doing this is what I’m trying to say.”