I can’t breathe.
“Oh, my fucking god,” Trey mutters, stepping back like the floor’s been ripped out from under him. “What the Hell.”
“She’s got him?” I whisper, voice cracking. “She’s got Logan—with a gun—she—”
Sam catches me as my knees threaten to give out.
“She’s armed and extremely volatile,” the officer says grimly. “And now it’s a police matter.”
But all I can see is Logan’s face in that frame—fear in his eyes, but calm, composed... brave. Like he’s protecting me even then.
“I need to find him,” I whisper, throat burning.
Trey turns on the guards. “What are you doing standing here then? You said it’s a police matter—so call the fucking police!”
“We already have.”
The room explodes into motion—phones ringing, voices rising, strategy forming—but I stand in the center of it all, frozen, the image of Logan disappearing into the night burned into my bones.
The villa is buzzing like a kicked beehive.
Security barking orders into radios. Trey pacing like a caged animal. Chace’s jaw locked so tight it looks like it might crack. Sam hasn’t stopped checking his phone, Logan’s tracker still pulled up, that little blinking dot too far away for comfort.
But I can’t move. I’m stuck in the middle of the chaos, the walls spinning too fast around me to latch onto anything solid.
Then Trey grabs Sam and Chace and inches them toward the kitchen, tossing a quick glance back at the guards before leaning in low.
“Listen to me,” he hisses. “One of us has to get the fuck outta here before we’re locked down so tight we can't even take a piss without permission.”
Chace blinks. “What are you—”
“I’m not losing another fucking brother,” Trey bites out, eyes flashing. “I’m not. I won’t.”
The silence between them crackles.
Then Sam nods. Just once. Sharp and certain. “I’ll say I’m going to change. I’ll track him now. I’ll leave now.” He turns, locking eyes with me, voice lower, gentler. “I won’t let anything happen to him, Mac. I swear.”
My chest splinters.
Then he’s already moving, climbing the stairs two at a time. “I’m taking this shit off. Give me two minutes.”
Trey’s gone a beat later, slipping out through the side door without another word, his pirate hat abandoned on the floor where he dropped it. Just his absence in the air like gun smoke and unfinished words.
And I’m stuck—lost in thought.
Wondering if this is real. If this is happening.
Why would Lola…?
A hand lands gently on my shoulder, pulling me back to the present. It’s Sam. He doesn’t say anything, just nods—Grounding me with that quiet, steady presence he always carries.
Across the room Chace, has his phone pressed to his ear, pacing in tight lines. His voice rises in what sounds like a heated conversation, though the language blurs into the background noise. I catch one word—uncle—before he meets my eyes, and gives me a small, reassuring smile. Then his brows draw together in a frown. He says something else I don’t catch, then ends the call and tucks his phone into his pocket.
Behind me, security talks into radios, voices sharp and clipped, code words and confusion bouncing off the stone walls. Someone’s pouring coffee. A kettle screeches. Phones ring and get silenced too fast. The world moves, loud and overwhelming, while mine narrows to that one still frame in my mind—
Logan, hands raised, walking toward that car.
Walking away from me.
