“Do you think that’s enough?” he asked the leader.

Leader considered us for a moment. “Trash the place,” he said. “Make sure to get another photo on your way out.” He stalked to the exit, only glancing over his shoulder for long enough to wink. “Play nice, girls. And, Willow?” A shiver crawled over me at his use of my name. “No cops, or Tom takes a long dive from a high building. We can make it happen. Capiche?”

“Yes,” I whispered, wondering who on earth my foolish brother had gotten involved with.

To Brute, he added, “Hands off the blonde, but anything goes with the brunette.”

Sage paled.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” I promised.

Her frightened look told me she knew it was a promise I couldn’t keep. Shorty shoved the bookshelf over and upended the coffee table.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to make myself small. Questions ran endlessly through my mind. I felt sick. Who did Tom owe? And how much? People didn’t destroy apartments and assault women for small sums of cash. A sinking sensation told me he was in well over his head.

Brute advanced on Sage, licking his lips. She pressed herself into the base of the sofa as though wishing she could vanish. I forced myself to move despite the pain that licked along my nerves, sheltering her with my body. For some reason, this guy had been ordered not to hurt me, and I wouldn’t let him get to Sage without defying that order.

“Out of the way.” He nudged me with his foot.

“No.” I curled protectively around my best friend.

He leaned down and sneered nastily. “I said move, bitch.”

I stayed where I was. Shorty strode into my bedroom, and I heard something crash. Brute glanced at the door, then grabbed me by the shoulders and tried to lift me from Sage. I clung to her with every bit of strength I had.

“Hey, fuckwit,” Shorty said a moment later. “Hands off the blonde, remember?”

He scowled. “It’s not her I want.”

“Come on.” Shorty nodded at the exit. “We need to leave. Someone might have called the cops.”

“But—”

“Forget about her.”

Brute grunted in disappointment but straightened and lumbered away.

Beneath me, Sage’s limbs loosened with relief. I waited until I was certain they’d both left before scrambling off her.

“I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry. They didn’t hurt me.” She studied my face. “You’re not bleeding much, but you should get the cut taped shut.”

I shook my head. “If we go to the hospital, they’ll ask what happened.”

“And?” She widened her eyes. “If we don’t, you could be scarred.”

“Not a big deal.” A scar might make men like Petrov less interested in me.

“What about the police?” she asked.

The only reason they hadn’t arrived already was because our neighbor across the hall worked night shifts and the one to our left was on vacation.

“You heard him,” I said. “If we call the police, they might do something to Tom.”