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Whether that’s a promise or a threat, I’m not entirely sure.

Either way, I take what Owen offers and get to work gently cleaning Devon's wounds while the former retreats to Taylor's room—fuck, I mean Logan’s room. It's not Tay's anymore. That fucker moved out on me.

Clenching my jaw, I try to shove aside my anger as I press the bag of ice against Devon's cheek. What would Taylor even do if he were here right now? Probably the same thing I am. Guy always looked out for his friends, even if they didn't deserve it. And this one here definitely doesn't deserve my kindness. Not after the shit he pulled last year.

Yet, here I am, lifting his shirt like a dumbass to check for bruising on his ribs⁠—

“Shit!” I yelp when his hand snaps up to grip my wrist.

Devon lurches to life like a motherfucking zombie, swinging mindlessly. “Get the fuck off me!”

His fist clips my shoulder hard enough to make me grunt.

“Whoa, hey! Jesus, Dev!” I barely have time to dodge the next hit as he scrambles backward on the couch with black eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he snarls, trying to stand before falling to his knees.

“Easy, man.” Instinct makes me grab his arm, but he whirls on me with a broken sound and shoves me backward onto my ass.

“I said don’t—” He winces sharply, clutching his ribs. “Fuck. Ah.”

With a growl, I get to my feet and hold my hands up in surrender. “Devon, chill out! It's me. Christian. You're in my apartment, fool.”

Recognition flickers in his eyes. “Why the fuck am I here? What happened? Who the hell is that?”

His gaze darts over my shoulder, and I spot Owen peeking out of Tay—Logan’s—room. “Owen. He’s my, uh… roommate.” Kinda. “And he just helped me save your ass.”

“Why?” Dev's face twists into a grimace. “God, I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“Close. A three-hundred-pound bodybuilder. You're welcome, by the way. I paid off your debt.”

He gingerly touches his split lip with a scoff. “I didn't ask you to do that.”

“You're such an ungrateful piece of shit. They held me at knifepoint, motherfucker. Didn't have much of a choice.”

Guilt flashes over his features when he finally meets my gaze, but it quickly disappears. “We all have choices. Yours was to ignore me for a year, so don't act like you care.”

Wow. Is this asshole for real? After all the shit I just did for him? “You're right, I don't care. But now you owe me five grand instead of fucking Arnie, so pay up or get out of my apartment.”

“Christian,” Owen hisses under his breath, and fuck.

Okay, maybe that was too far, especially because Devon is laughing as he stumbles for the door. “I don't owe you shit.”

God.

Why does he piss me the fuck off so much?

“Wrong,” I growl, darting forward to block his path. “Technically, you owe Taylor, too, because that money came from our business account. And until you pay it back, you're not going anywhere.”

“Oh, yeah?” He sneers as he gets in my face. “You gonna stop me, hot shot?”

For a split second, I think about letting him go. Let him limp out the door with bruised ribs and swollen eyes so he can crawl back into whatever hole he dug himself out of. He's not my problem, right? That's the reason I blocked his ass after Logan woke up in the hospital.

But then he smirks, and I see that same self-destructive glint in his eyes that led Taylor down this same path all those years ago. Something in me snaps.

Never again.

“Yeah,” I grit through clenched teeth, shoving him against the wall with my forearm. “I am.”