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The guy looks at the mansion, then back at me. For a second, I think he’s going to ask questions, but he’s quiet as he puts the car into park. I unclip my seatbelt, realizing I left a smear of blood and dirt on the side window when I leaned against it. Shit. I hope I didn’t wreck his fucking seat.

“Thank you.” I glance over at him. “For the lift. And sorry about…”

I gesture vaguely to myself and to the seat.

He shrugs and shakes his head. “It’s okay.” I’m reaching for the door when he asks, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

I try to answer that, but I can’t. He’s concerned, just like a normal person would be, but what can a guy like him do about it? A perfectly normal guy who hikes with the sunrise on his Saturday mornings. He’s probably vegan and owns a cat. He probably has one of those cute downtown L.A. apartments with plants and essential oils and organic foods. He probably works a nine to five, probably doesn’t know anything about rich brats and monsters who manipulate people like me.

He wouldn’t understand.

I nod. I don’t trust myself to say the words I’m fine out loud, knowing they’re total and complete bullshit.

I swing the door open, slamming it shut behind me. He doesn’t linger, turning around and heading off to wherever it is he was planning on going before I threw myself in front of his car.

As I turn toward the house, a deep voice calls my name.

“Sophie!”

Gray runs down the driveway, Declan and Elias right behind him. I don’t even consciously decide to move, my legs stumble into motion, pushing me forward.

I didn’t think I had anything left in me, but as long as I’m running toward them, I’ll run forever.

4

Gray reaches me first, our bodies colliding with almost bruising force. The impact should hurt, but if it does, I can’t feel the pain of it. Instead, it feels like it shocks my heart back into rhythm.

As if I was dying, and he just brought me back to life.

He doesn’t say a word, just clings to me as if he’ll never let go, his fingers digging into my skin as he breathes in the scent of my hair.

Declan and Elias reach us a second later, knocking us backward a step as they wrap their arms around me too. I hear Max let out a soft sob as she joins us. The men must’ve beaten her out of the house, their longer legs carrying them faster than hers did.

For a moment, I’m surrounded completely by the four of them, enveloped by their bodies so all I can see and hear and feel is them. Something clicks into place inside me, solidifying in my heart.

I need them.

My men. My best friend. People I never thought I would have in my life—but ones I can’t imagine living without now.

I didn’t realize how much I need them until I thought I fucking lost them. I didn’t realize how much I need them until I was running from Alan, the bunker, running from my past. I didn’t realize how much I need them until it was almost too late.

Never again.

They hold me for what feels like forever, none of us speaking. When they finally step back, I get my first good look at them since the guy dropped me off.

Elias’s usually flirtatious face is shadowed with fear and worry. He reaches for me again, pulling me against his body and wrapping his arms around me, enveloping me in his familiar scent, fresh and sweet and only him. His heart thunders against mine as his lips brush over my forehead, my eyelashes, my cheeks, and my chin.

“Jesus, Blue,” he whispers hoarsely. “We thought…”

I nod. It’s all I can manage right now. My throat is still sore as fuck from being choked by Reagan, but that’s not what makes it hard to speak. I’m not used to dealing with this kind of emotional overload. So many feelings are bouncing around inside my chest, I can barely handle them all.

I try to picture circumstances being the opposite, one of them being kidnapped and taken away, but I just can’t. I don’t want to.

When Elias steps aside, Declan reaches for me next. His jaw clenches as he takes in the bruises on my face, the cuts on my arms, the damage done by Reagan. His rough fingers brush over a cut on my cheek that still stings, coming away with my blood on his skin, and his lips press together, fury filling his deep brown eyes.

I open my mouth to say something, to explain why I look like this, but before I even have time to let out a breath his lips press against mine in a kiss soft enough to break me.

My body melts into his kiss, leaning into his touch. Featherlight, his hands brush up against the hem of my bloody and dirty t-shirt, skimming up the broken skin and bruises on my arms until they find my neck. He pulls me a little closer, kissing me a little harder.

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