“Yeah.” He took a sip. Slow, methodical. “She’s here.”

I was ignoring all of the signs that I should get out of here. Pretend they aren’t there, I told myself. Pretend you don’t know. Maybe nothing will happen? I’d walked into a den of vipers, and I needed to back out of here before they struck. Everything in me was screaming to run, but I forced a nonchalant look on my face.

I had to.

I was close to being in survival mode here.

And thinking…Race had just changed his location. If his mom was here, he was still in Roussou.

“Okay.” I started back to my Jeep. “Thanks, Alex.”

He waited until I was just in front of it, then called after me, raising his voice, “You fucking him?”

I stopped, my back to him.

He did that on purpose, wanting the rest of his crew to hear him. It was a call to action. Get in gear, little kiddies. Time to stop playing. It’s a different kind of playtime now.

When I turned around, I wasn’t surprised to find most of them heading our way. I began counting, guessing there were twelve here, maybe a few still in the pool.

Fake it, Bren.

So I did. I raised my chin, meeting his gaze square. “That’s none of your business, if I were.”

His shoulders fell back and whatever sick excitement he was getting from this conversation went up a full notch.

Those odds were so damn bad. He was safe, surrounded by his, while mine were absent.

My lips parted.

Fuck you, crossed my mind.

He grinned at me, that gleam so wicked. “Not so cocky now, Monroe, are you?”

“Funny.” I indicated his crew. “I came looking for someone who’s not crew, and yours and mine aren’t warring right now.”

Alex’s hotheadedness was back, but he’d picked up other habits too. Bad habits. Life-threatening habits, for myself and others.

This. Was. So. Not. Good.

“Don’t do this,” I rasped out.

“Do what?” He tipped his head back, finishing his beer, and tossed it off to the side. He used the back of his arm to wipe his mouth. “Call you out for being a slut?”

My head went low. “Taz needs sponsors for some committee. I’m here to help her out. That’s all. Race said his dad would help.”

He walked toward me with a slow swagger, his hips rotating smoothly. The guy was high and drunk, and he was either trying and failing at being seductive or he was just out and out okay with the potential-rapist vibes he was giving off. He was enjoying this.

That chilled me to the bone.

“I want to know where my turn went. You went from Drake to Race. Shouldn’t I have gotten a ride in therrre fisd?” he slurred.

God, he reeked.

I was going to slice him.

My mind wanted to turn off. I knew what was going to happen. There was no out for me, which meant I had one option. Fight. Take as many of them with me as I could, but I had to think. I had to stay rational. I couldn’t turn it off.

Not yet.

Still.

My mouth was so dry. My lips parted as I gulped air. I couldn’t get enough. I felt my throat constricting.

That’s the fear, Bren.

For whatever fucking reason, my brother’s voice sounded in my head.

Even now, even in this situation, he was trying to tell me what to do.

I tried to summon my usual annoyance, but it wasn’t there.

I listened to him. I had to.

Make every contact count. Be smart, but efficient. Stay strong. Clear head, Bren.

Then Cross’ voice, Find your exits. Count them. Then look ahead, decide on your first targets. Think about where you strike first.

Cross’ voice melded with Channing’s. Clear head. Fight smart.

I didn’t think when I grabbed my knife—that was automatic. But I scanned the group. I saw four gaps in the crowd, four exits. My keys were in my pocket.

I suddenly wished I had an automatic starter, but there was no need here in California. Well, except for right about fucking now.

I felt my knife in my hand. That handle fit so perfectly in my palm.

It calmed me, just a tiny bit.

“Think about what you’re saying, Alex,” I said softly. “Think hard.”

He laughed, the sound making me nauseous.

“Trust me.” He gripped himself through his jeans. “I’m hard. I’ve been hard for you for a long time.”

I wanted to do more than slice him, but I counted everyone behind him. He had around twenty people here.

There was no way for me. There was no way.

I could slice a few, but he’d grab me before I got inside the Jeep. I’d have to run out to the land around his place. There were trees, but unlike Jordan’s, there was a whole lot of open land.

They would hunt me down. It was a matter of time.

They would beat me. Maybe rape me. Maybe worse.

This was Roussou. The shimmer of danger wasn’t an illusion. I had stepped right into the thick of it.

“My phone is on.” I pulled it out with my free hand and dialed 9-1-1. “They’re coming, and I know enough people who listen to the radio. My brother is probably being notified as I speak, so it’ll be his crew coming too. Not just mine.” I locked eyes with a few of his members. Some were hostile. Some were cautious. A couple seemed fearful. I stared hard at them. “Something happens to me, you know what will happen to you. Blood for blood.”

I knew that would hit hard with some of Alex’s crew. They didn’t all look wasted.

One gulped. Another hardened his expression, but I still saw the fear there, just under the surface.

Everything I’d said was true.

I had called 9-1-1. They would ping my location. Someone would hear the dispatch, and my brother would get a call. He’d call his crew, then mine, and all of them would descend on this place.

I hoped whatever damage they did to me would be worth it, because I had my guys coming.

I looked at Alex again, holding my breath.

He snarled, his hands balling into fists. “Then let’s stop wasting time.”

Alex lunged for me.

Still holding the knife in my hand, I palmed it so it lay flat, reached behind me to grab the edge of the Jeep door, and flung myself backward. I kicked under Alex’s head as my legs went up and over, and I rolled to my feet on the top of my Jeep. From there I kicked and swung with my knife until I was too surrounded. I felt some guys climbing up on the back of my Jeep, moving toward me, and as they reached for my legs, I embedded my knife in one of their arms. The guy screamed, falling back, and I fell on my hip, jutting my feet out again to kick at the other guy. I connected with his nose, hearing a crunching sound, but it was too late.

The other guy still had my knife in his arm, and I felt hands scoop me up from behind.

Someone pulled me off the car and then let go.

I fell to the ground, landing on my side on top of a rock.

I grunted from the pain, and though it blinded me for a moment, I reached underneath me and grabbed the rock.

“Enough!” I heard Alex roar.

Two guys reached down for me. I brought the rock up, smashing one in the head and bringing my elbow back into the other’s face.

A fist hit me in the side, and I doubled over again.

I felt tears coating my face, tasted my blood mixing with them, but I wasn’t stopping. I wouldn’t, not until I was put down. If I could move, I could fight.

“Stay down, bitch!” Alex growled.

The group surged back at his words, leaving me alone.

I looked up, panting. Holding my side, I winced as I felt a rib broken. “You fucker.”

He snarled again and lifted his arm. He was going to backhand me. I braced myself, ready to fall out of his way and punch that rock up into his side, but before I could, before he could—another roar came from the crowd.

Suddenly someone grabbed Alex, hurling him away from me.

I stood, panting, my vision blurred. I was close to passing out. I felt it coming.

I tried to focus on who had just arrived.