******

My phone starts blowing up as soon as I hit the parking lot. I check it only to see I have seven missed calls all from Michael. What the fuck? I try calling him back but I have no reception. Fucking underground parking lot. I’m about to take the elevator up a floor just so I can get a bar when a text comes through.

Girls insisted on going to the shrink’s. I’ve gone with them.

As soon as I see the word girls, my whole body feels like it’s been electrocuted. In the split second it takes me to read through the clipped message, I imagine it says three different things instead: Girls are dead. Girls are gone. Girls have fled the state—said they were sick of your bullshit. But no. They’ve just gone to see Newan. What the fuck? They were safe in the warehouse, and now they’re out traipsing all over Seattle, where they could be found by any number of people. Charlie. Julio. That DEA bitch.

They need to be somewhere safe. Somewhere none of the dangerous elements in my life can find them. Somewhere none of them know to look. I have an idea where that might be, but first things first I need to get to them and drag their asses back to the warehouse.

I jump in the Camaro, gunning the engine. Medina just got a reprieve. He doesn’t know it yet, but my pressing responsibilities have just prevented something very unpleasant from taking place. It’s seriously gonna fuck with his head when I don’t come back. The thought almost makes me laugh.

I slam the Camaro into gear, pausing to message Michael back before I burn out of the lot.

Okay. Don’t let them out of your sight. I’m coming.

“You can wait here, y’know. We’re only going to be half an hour.” Michael doesn’t look too impressed by my attempts to ditch him. I knew there was no way he was going to wait in the foyer of Pippa’s building, but still…it was worth a shot. He raises an eyebrow at me, pursing his lips.

“What floor?”

Lacey huffs and weaves her way around him, stabbing at the button marked with an eight. Michael gives me a polite smile, though I can read the amusement in his eyes. “It’s okay. I’m not going to listen in on you complaining about my employer if that’s what you’re worried about.” The elevator doors roll shut, and my mind whips me back to another elevator. To the very beginning of this whole nightmare when I was riding up to a hotel room and feeling sick at the prospect of what I was about to do. There had been three guys in the elevator with me that day. One of them was concerned about me—said I didn’t look well.

And now I’m riding in an elevator car with people I never would have met if it hadn’t have been for that day. For the man I met in that hotel room two years ago. If I could have looked into the future and seen what my life was going to be like now because of that one decision—to press the button and go up—I wonder how I would have felt. Because yes, it was fucked up, and yes my life is royally fucked up now, but I care about these people. Michael would die to protect Lacey and me—I know without a shadow of a doubt—and Lacey is now like family. It may sound harsh, but I care about her right now more than I do my own sister, given Alexis was the one who got me into this whole mess in the first place.

As if she can read my thoughts, Lacey slips her hand into the pocket of my jacket and threads her fingers through mine. Honestly, I’m a little shocked by the action. I look down at her and she beams back up at me, wrinkling her nose.

“It’s going to be fine,” she whispers, and the way she says it makes me believe she’s not simply talking about me showing up on Pippa’s doorstep with an imposing, though rather beautiful, tattooed black guy who clearly works for a man she detests. In fact, it sounds more like Lacey, who is often so withdrawn from the world, has come into some knowledge that Zeth and I, and everyone else in this life are not privy to. Perhaps the fact she’s so withdrawn gives her a unique insight—you can see so much more of the world when you stand back to take a proper look at it.

I squeeze her hand. “Thanks, Lace.”

The elevator dings and the doors roll back, and there’s Pippa, briefcase and jacket in hand, looking more than a little startled. “Sloane! What—” She lays eyes on Michael and stops talking. Her reaction is almost laughable. She may not have been expecting me, but she definitely wasn’t expecting anyone Michael sized, or Michael shaped.

“Are you leaving?” Lacey asks, stepping out into the hallway. Pip blinks at Michael one last time, masters her facial expression, and then refocuses on us.

“Uh, yes. I was headed to the office. Is everything okay? Did we have a session booked?”

A session? I try to remember to breathe deeply, but my efforts feel wasted; my chest still feels tight and constricted. It’s felt that way since I turned around and saw Zeth standing in my bedroom doorway. “No, we—I just wanted to talk to you.” I didn’t make the decision to come here lightly. I’m still mad at her for interfering and misjudging me, but at the end of the day she’s still one of my oldest friends. And I need a friend right now. Not a psychiatrist. I need the woman who’s been known to feed me ice cream and let me vent; she used to be that person, and I think she still can be. My eyes are pricking even just thinking about that comfort. Pippa’s cautious expression fades, softening her face.

“Oh, okay. Well, sure. Uh…” She glances back at Michael, raising her eyes. She clearly doesn’t know what to make of him. Not even a little bit. I’m about to introduce him to her when Michael holds his hand out, ever the gentleman.