On my bike, with Logan’s Beach blurring around me, I became the soulless monster who was willing to spill rivers full of blood for my girl.

There were a lot of motherfuckers heading to hell tonight.

After I made sure Ti was safe, I didn’t care if I was one of them.

I laid down on the throttle and pushed my bike to her limits. I barreled down the road toward the compound, unsure of how the fuck I was able to see the road, because in my vision all I could see was red.

Blood. Fucking. Red.

CHAPTER THIRTY

Thia

“NO! DON’T PUT that in my arm! I don’t need it. I swear. I’ll be good. I’ll be calm. Just please. Don’t! I promise. I’ll be calm. I promise!” I screamed, and struggled against several men and women dressed in grey scrubs as they held my arms and legs down on a gurney. A petite woman with short black hair held up a syringe to the light and flicked it a few times before inserting it into the IV drip already in my arm. She looked down at me unapologetically before pushing down on the plunger.

Then it all went out of focus.

Everything.

Including the room.

Suddenly, I was alone. I sat up on the gurney with ease. My wrists and ankles no longer tethered down. I was in the same room as moments before, same pale green walls, but this time it was empty.

At least I thought it was empty.

“And I used to think Bear was the smartest of us three fuckateers,” a male voice said, followed by a short burst of laughter. “Actually, that’s not true. I’ve always been the smartest one, it’s a scientific fact. Also, my cock’s the biggest. It’s important you know that.”

I lift my head to find a man leaning against the window, his arms and legs both crossed. He’s just a shadow under the light of the moon until he unfolds himself and starts to walk toward me. As he moves, the shadows do too, and I can make out his features. He’s tall, though not nearly as tall as Bear. He’s muscular but very lean. He’s wearing a short-sleeved, white shirt and khaki pants, with an orange bow-tie, and black suspenders. His arms and hands are decorated in tattoos and his sandy blond hair is tied back in a high, messy ponytail, but that is the only thing about his look that’s even remotely messy. His shirt is neatly pressed and his pants have a crease on each leg that runs straight down the front. His beard is shorter than Bear’s, somewhere between stubble and a beard, but immaculately groomed.

“Who are you?” I ask. “You know Bear?” The man comes up beside me to sit down on the gurney, and that’s when my fuzzy brain starts to recognize him, but I can’t remember how I recognize him. I try to stand up from the gurney but when I make a move to stand, I wobble. The man grabs my arm to steady me and sets me back down.

“Of course I know that fuck. He’s one of my best friends,” he says, like I should already know this. “You’re fucking smoking hot,” he says looking me up and down. “You wanna make out?”

“Huh? What?”

“But since Bear’s my friend, no tongue though. Okay, maybe a little tongue, but only because you asked. No dick though. I draw the line there. Okay, only all the way in, but only for like an hour or two. Sound good?”

“What?” I ask again, rubbing my temples and trying to clear my mind so I can get a grasp on what exactly is going on here.

“Okay, okay, just until we both come. Or just me. Or whatever. Ground rules are important when starting a new relationship. I saw that on Oprah and that bitch knows her shit. If you don’t follow her book club you should.”

“Who are you again?” I ask and as I look at him, it finally registers how I recognize him. From the photo in Bear’s apartment. He’s telling the truth. He’s Bear’s friend.

Bear’s DEAD friend.

“I’m Preppy.”

“But you’re…” I start but Preppy waves me off.

“That’s not important,” he says dismissively.

“How are you here?” I ask.

“Shit you ask more questions than Doe. I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Doe?”

“Ray,” he says. “But if you want to sing the entire song from the Sound of Music I’ll have to find a pitch pipe and I’ll need to lube up my vocal cords.” He looks between my legs. “I think I know how to—”

“Preppy, can you focus for one sec?”

“Mmmmmmm?” he asks finally looking at my face. He reaches out and plays with a strand of my hair.

“Please just tell me why you’re here. Why I’m here.”

“You’re here because people suck, and I’m here for you because you need me and because I didn’t know when I was going to get a chance again to introduce myself to Bear’s girl.”

“But you’re…”

“Still not important,” he says.

“Then am I in a mental hospital?” I ask.

“No, why would you think that? Are you crazy? Did Bear catch a crazy one? He’s supposed to toss the crazy ones back. Didn’t I teach that bitch anything?” Preppy asked with a huff.

“I don’t know why I think I’m in a mental hospital, maybe because I’m sitting on a gurney talking to Bear’s best friend, who’s dead?”

“Awe that’s cute,” Preppy says, running the back of his index finger across my cheek. This man is a stranger to me. This gesture is an intimate one, like we know each other, so it should creep me out and make me jump back, but instead I find myself leaning into his touch, finding comfort in it.

“What’s cute?” I ask.

“That you think that even death could keep me away from my family,” Preppy whispers.

“I’m so confused,” I admit, falling backwards onto the gurney. Preppy follows and when I look to my right, I find him lying beside me and looking right at me. I could feel his cool minty breath across my face as he spoke.

“When you see King and my girl Doe can you please tell those bitches that Preppina the Magnificent would have been a way better name than Nicole Grace? That shit sounds like she’s already in line for the fucking nursing home. I’m going to have to watch over her just to make sure she doesn’t get beat up on the playground and trust me that shit is no fucking fun. I used to get into fights every single day, and even though I won every single one of them with my brawn and wit, I don’t want that for little Preppina.”