Sloane, her blond ponytail swinging from side to side as she walks, leads the four I’ve come for into the station lobby. Since I knew this was coming, I was already waiting when they got here. They spent less than half an hour behind bars before I was able to get them out. Some of these kids will spend the night here as their parents are probably asleep already. Sucks to be them.

“They’re all yours,” Sloan says, eyes narrowed as she studies each one of them. “Get them out of here before all the other parents start showing up.”

I can feel Willa’s stare on me, but I ignore it. I’m not about to have this conversation with her with an audience. If I even decide to speak to her to discuss tonight, it’ll most certainly be alone. Now that I’ve seen her true colors, it won’t be worth the risk of my career if anyone happens to overhear.

“Get in,” I grunt out, motioning for my car that’s parked on the curb outside.

The four of them are silent. Spencer takes the passenger seat while Dempsey, Gemma, and Willa all squeeze into the back seat. Once I’m on the road, it’s Spencer who’s the first to speak.

“Are you going to tell my dad?”

I grind my teeth together. Hugo is the least of Spencer’s problems. He was just grinding against my fucking girlfriend. I’m his problem. He’s a kid, and family, but I want to punch him in his goddamn face.

“He’s going to find out,” I grumble. “This town’s too small for secrets.” My eyes cut to the rearview mirror where Willa watches me intently.

“Where are we going?” Gemma asks from the back. “Willa’s house is that way. Spencer’s car—”

“If you think I’m letting Spencer drive anywhere when he’s been drinking, you’re insane.” I blow out a frustrated huff. “I’m taking all three of you home and then I’ll take Willa to her house.”

“What about my stuff?” Gemma whines. “It’s at Willa’s. Please, Callum. Just take me back there. Dad will freak out if I show up in the middle of the night.”

“Stay at Spencer’s. Stay at my house. I don’t give a fuck. You’re not going back to Willa’s.” I grip the steering wheel so tight I wonder if I have the strength to yank it off if I tried. Probably so in this infuriated state. “You can get your shit tomorrow.”

Gemma starts to cry in the back seat. Her crocodile tears worked on me when she was a toddler, but I’m immune now.

Dempsey mutters something under his breath.

“What’s that?” I growl.

“I said you don’t have to be a dick,” Dempsey snaps.