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Leslie has wronged him, and I’d be only too happy to unleash him on her right now. But she’s not here, and him taking out his rage on the cops won’t end well.
West shoots me a glance, his gray gaze intense as he takes in my expression. Then he steps forward, putting a hand on Trent’s shoulder and squeezing.
“Bro. Calm down.” West’s deep voice is low and smooth, and when he looks up at the cop, whose badge reads Officer Lambert, I can hear the control in his words. “What other information do you need from us, officer? We want to get this sorted out as quickly as possible.”
The older guy straightens, looking slightly mollified by West’s calm tone, and I draw in a slow breath through my nose.
Jesus. I never would’ve thought West would be the one to diffuse a tense situation like this.
He’s an intense man, and so purely alpha that it’s not in his nature to back down from anyone. Even when we were close in high school, before things went bad, I didn’t know all the details of his home life. He kept a lot of things to himself, choosing not to talk about them. But his silence said enough. I know it wasn’t good at home, I wonder if this skill is something he learned as a kid.
West, Trent, and Officer Lambert begin going through everything again, starting off in slightly calmer voices this time.
“See?” There’s a touch of humor in Reese’s voice as he gives me a small squeeze, and I almost chuckle—but the sound doesn’t quite make it past my tight throat. “Told you.”
Guilt roils my stomach as I watch the men before us. I can say whatever I want about Trent’s temper and stubbornness, but it’s my fault this is happening. I brought Leslie into this, and she escalated the game of revenge and retribution to a level that none of us can compete on.
And now she’s going to wipe us all out.
Even if we can convince the cops that Trent’s car wasn’t stolen, will they even be able to help us? What can local cops do against a hacker?
My phone vibrates in my back pocket, and I feel Reese shift behind me as he notices it. He releases me, his touch lingering as if he can’t quite bring himself to let me go. It takes some effort for me to step away too. Despite all the effort I put into fortifying my heart against these three men, I was never able to completely sever the ties between my heart and theirs.
And right now, his embrace feels like one of the safest places in the world.
But my phone vibrates again, and I move away from the men at the table as I pull it
out of my pocket. There’s another cop standing by the door, but he looks bored out of his mind—like he doesn’t care whether we stole the car or not, as long as he gets off his shift on time.
I duck my head as I step past him into a corner, pulling my phone from my pocket.
It’s a text from my dad. Two of them, actually.
Shit. He probably wants to check up on me—to make sure I’m doing okay now that the semester has started. I should’ve started back at school with everyone else on Monday, but since Clearwater University kicked me out at the end of fall semester, I had no classes to go to.
Dad, despite trying to show me “tough love,” still worries about me.
I swipe my fingertip across the screen, already composing a message in my head to let him know I’m doing fine. It’s not entirely true, but I don’t want to give him any more reasons to be concerned about me.
But as the two texts pop up on the screen, my finger freezes.
My breath catches in my throat.
The sound of the voices behind me—which have already begun to rise in anger again—seem to go silent, drowned out by the rushing in my ears.
The two texts from my dad are short. No words wasted.
And every single word stops my heart.
DAD: Ems, there’s been an accident.
DAD: Claire didn’t make it.
2
Trent
It’s taking all my damn willpower not to punch this motherfucker in his mouth. I’ve explained what happened over and over, but he’s so thick in the damn head.
