Sienna's P.O.V.

By the time I got home, I had decided three things. One, the video had screwed me. Two, Kai had made sure Knox knew exactly where I was.

Three, I was not sticking around long enough to find out who reached my front door first.

Butter met me in the hallway with the kind of offended yell only a cat could manage. I locked the deadbolt behind me, checked the chain, then crouched to scratch under his chin.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. Terrible mother. Abandoned you for an entire workday."

He head-butted my hand.

"You're very brave now that I'm home."

Butter followed me into the bedroom while I pulled the black duffel from under my bed. The bag stayed packed most of the time, but I still went through it item by item: two changes of clothes, cash, copies of my documents, a charger, basic toiletries, a cheap hoodie, and the small first-aid kit I had replaced three months ago. I set my passport and wallet beside it, then opened the bottom dresser drawer. The old prepaid phone was still there. So was the envelope I should have thrown away years ago. I stared at it for too long.

"Nope."

I closed the drawer. Butter jumped onto the bed and sat directly on the duffel.

"Move."

He blinked.

"Butter."

Nothing.

"I am trying to save both of our lives here."

He started washing one paw. Traitor. I picked him up, ignored his deeply offended growl, and put him on the floor. Then I zipped the bag and carried it into the living room. I should have felt calmer. Packing usually helped. A bag by the door meant options. Options meant control. Tonight, it just made the apartment look temporary. Maybe it always had been.

I checked the window over the sink. Empty parking lot. Mrs. Greer's blue sedan. A delivery van three buildings down. No motorcycles. Good. I checked the bedroom window too. Nothing. Still good. Then my phone buzzed. My whole body tightened before I even looked. Macy. **You alive?** I let out a breath. **Unfortunately.** Three dots appeared immediately. **Video is at 41k. Sorry.** I closed my eyes. Of course it was. **Not your fault. Keep your wrist iced.** Her reply took longer. **Do I need to worry about you? Like actually worry?** I stared at the message. There were a hundred answers I could have given. Yes. No. Maybe. Mind your business. Instead, I typed the one that cost me the least. **I'm handling it.** Macy sent back a thumbs-down. I almost smiled. Then another notification appeared. The video again. Someone had tagged Harlow's official page. I turned off notifications completely. Silence settled over the apartment. Too much silence. That's when my brain decided it was a perfect time to remember Knox. Not adult Knox. Not the name I'd seen on Kai's phone.

Thirteen-year-old Knox, lying on the clubhouse roof with his hands behind his head like the whole world belonged to him. Of course. Because apparently sleep wasn't the only time my memories wanted to ruin my day.

*******************************************************

~ Flashback, age 13 ~

*******************************************************

Zane's going-away party had been loud everywhere except Knox's room.

His dad had friends downstairs. The clubhouse was packed. Music rattled the walls. People kept coming in to say goodbye to Zane's family, and every time someone did, Zane looked a little more pissed. None of us knew what to do with it. We were kids. Moving felt permanent. Maybe because back then, a different town might as well have been another planet.

Kai and Roman were arguing over a game on the floor. Maddox had stolen half the snacks and was refusing to share them. Zane sat on the edge of the bed pretending he wasn't upset. I hated all of it. So I climbed out Knox's window.

The roof outside his room wasn't steep, and we'd been yelled at enough times for sitting out there that I knew exactly where to put my feet. I had barely settled against the shingles when the window opened behind me.

"Knew you'd be out here."

Knox climbed through and sat beside me.

"Go away."

"No."

"I mean it."

"No, you don't."

I looked at him. "You're annoying."

"You love me."

"Unfortunately."

He grinned. For a while, we listened to the music downstairs.

Then I said, "What if he forgets us?"

Knox's grin disappeared.

"He won't."

"You don't know that."

"Yeah, I do."

"People change."

"He's moving, Sia. He's not dying."

"I know."

Knox bumped his shoulder against mine. "We'll call him. Kai'll probably hack his computer if he ignores us."

I laughed a little.

"And if that doesn't work?"

"Then we go get him."

I turned my head. He said it like it was obvious.

"Get him from another state?"

"Yeah."

"We can't drive."

"My dad can."

"What if he says no?"

"Then we annoy him until he says yes."

That sounded exactly like something we would do.

I looked down toward the clubhouse parking lot. "What if it's not Zane?"

"What?"

"What if one of us leaves later? Or somebody gets mad? Or something happens?"

Knox went quiet. I didn't know why I was asking. Maybe I already understood, even then, that promises were easy when nothing had tested them yet. Finally, he sat up.

"Okay."

"Okay what?"

"We make a rule."

I frowned. "What rule?"

"Nobody gets left behind."

I stared at him.

Knox pointed toward the window. "Any of us. Me, you, Zane, Maddox, Roman, Kai. If somebody disappears, the rest of us go looking."

"What if they want to disappear?"

"Then we ask them ourselves."

"What if they say they hate us?"

"Then we make sure they mean it."

I laughed. "That's creepy."

"It's loyal."

"It's definitely creepy."

He shoved my shoulder. I shoved him back. Then he held out his pinky.

I stared at it. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"We're thirteen."

"And?"

"Pinky promises are for babies."

"Scared?"

That bastard knew exactly how to get me. I hooked my pinky around his. Knox looked me straight in the eye.

"Nobody gets left behind."

I swallowed.

"Nobody gets left behind."

The window opened behind us.

Zane stuck his head out. "What are you losers doing?"

"Making sure we know where to find your dumb ass when you forget us," Knox said.

Zane climbed onto the roof without asking and held out his hand.

"Then I'm in."

Maddox appeared behind him. Then Kai. Then Roman. Six stupid kids on a clubhouse roof, stacking hands like we were making some sacred oath instead of promising something none of us understood. Zane squeezed my fingers.

"If one goes missing, five go looking."

Maddox grinned. "Unless it's Kai."

"Fuck you," Kai said.

Roman laughed. Knox looked at all of us.

"No bullshit. We don't take somebody else's word for it. If one of us wants out, they tell us themselves."

Something in my chest tightened. I nodded. We all did. And for that one night, I believed it.

*******************************************************

~ Present, age 25 ~

*******************************************************

I came back to myself standing in the middle of my living room. Butter was sitting beside the duffel, watching me.

"Yeah," I whispered. "That's what I thought."

No bullshit. We don't take somebody else's word for it. Kai's voice from the parking lot replayed in my head. **We were told you wanted out.** Told. Not asked. Not heard from me. Told. I laughed once, but there was nothing funny in it.

"Nobody gets left behind."

Except me. Apparently there had been an asterisk. I grabbed my keys. Sitting in the apartment thinking wasn't going to help. If I was leaving before sunrise, I needed gas, cash from the all-night ATM, and a look at the roads before I loaded Butter into the car. That last part was habit now. Never leave blind. I drove without music.

The first route out of town was the state highway east. I passed the gas station, filled the Corolla, then continued another mile before looping back. Nothing unusual. The second route cut south through farm roads before connecting with the interstate. Halfway there, I saw a black SUV parked in the lot of a closed feed store. Engine running. Lights off. I kept driving. Could be nothing. At the next intersection, I turned west instead of south. Ten minutes later, the SUV passed behind me. My grip tightened. Coincidence. Maybe. I took another turn. Then another. The SUV disappeared. I let myself breathe.

"Paranoid," I muttered.

I headed toward the third route, a two-lane road that eventually connected to the interstate farther north. A motorcycle was parked near the entrance to a twenty-four-hour truck stop. The rider wore no helmet. I didn't recognize him. I didn't recognize the cut either. Not Inferno's Demon Riders. He looked up as I passed. Too quickly. My stomach dropped. I kept going. In the rearview mirror, he picked up his phone. I turned at the next road and circled back toward town. By the time I reached the main intersection again, the black SUV was there. Different position. Same vehicle. This time, the driver's window lowered as I passed. I didn't wait to see who was inside. I drove straight home. No speeding. No sudden turns. Nothing that said I had noticed. But by the time I pulled into my apartment lot, my decision had changed. I wasn't leaving at sunrise. Sunrise was too late.

I was leaving as soon as I could get Butter into his carrier and the duffel into the car. I parked, killed the lights, and sat in the dark for five seconds. Then I looked toward the street. A pair of headlights passed the entrance. Slowly. Too slowly. I grabbed my bag and got out.

"Nobody gets left behind," I whispered as I hurried toward the building.

The words tasted like a joke now. The worst part was that some stupid piece of me still remembered exactly how Knox had sounded when he promised.

Knox's P.O.V.

The message came in while I was in church. Not actual church. Inferno's Demon Riders church.

A long scarred table, ten pissed-off men, two territory problems, one shipment delay, and a prospect standing by the door trying very hard not to look nervous. My phone buzzed once against the wood. I ignored it. Then it buzzed again. Kai knew better than to interrupt church unless something mattered, so I looked down. **Found her.** For a second, the room disappeared. I stared at the words. Then another message came through. A link. I opened it. Sienna filled my screen. Older. Thinner. Harder. Standing in some diner aisle with a man twice her size trying to intimidate her. **You think you're tough?** The guy's voice came through the phone. Sienna didn't step back. **I think you're leaving.** The clip ended. I watched it again. And again.

"Judge?"

I looked up. Every brother at the table was staring at me.

"Meeting's over."

Silence.

My VP, Bishop, frowned. "We still have—"

"I said it's over."

Nobody argued after that. Chairs scraped back. Men filed out. Bishop waited until the door closed, then crossed his arms.

"Who died?"

"No one."

"Then who'd you find?"

I looked at the frozen image on my phone. Sienna's face. Almost ten fucking years.

"We found Sienna."

Bishop's expression changed. Everybody in the club knew the name. Not the whole story. Nobody knew the whole story because apparently neither did I.

He looked at the screen. "You sure?"

"Yeah."

I had known that face when it was rounder, softer, usually covered in some kind of dirt because the six of us had spent half our childhood doing stupid shit outside. I knew the tiny line between her eyebrows when she was pissed. The way one corner of her mouth lifted before she said something smart-assed. The eyes were different. That was what bothered me. Sienna had always looked at the world like she expected it to make room for her. The woman in the video looked like she expected the world to swing first.

"Where?" Bishop asked.

"Nebraska."

Less than an hour from our home territory across the state line. Close enough that the fact we'd missed her for almost two years suddenly felt even worse.

"Want me to call the chapter there?"

"No."

He studied me.

"I'll handle it."

"That usually means you're about to do something stupid."

"It means I'll handle it."

"Same thing, usually."

I ignored him and called Kai. He answered on the second ring.

"Tell me everything."

"Hello to you too."

"Kai."

His tone changed. "We found her outside the diner from the video. Riot and I were already in-state on that parts run. We went straight there."

"And?"

A pause. I hated pauses.

"And she hates us."

Something hot moved through my chest.

"She doesn't get to hate us."

Kai went quiet. I knew how that sounded. I didn't care. Not yet.

"She disappeared," I said. "She shut us out. She—"

"She said she was taken."

The sentence cut through me.

"What?"

"Her exact words. Riot told her she left. She said, 'I was taken.'"

I stood so fast my chair hit the wall. Bishop didn't move, but his eyebrows went up.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I asked myself the same thing."

"You ask her?"

"Riot was doing most of the talking."

"Of course he fucking was."

"Judge."

"What?"

"She also asked who told us she wanted out."

I went still. Kai kept talking.

"We told her what we believed. That she wanted her father. That she was done with the club. Done with us."

"That's what happened."

"Is it?"

I almost snapped at him. Almost. Then I remembered the video. The way she stood. The way Kai had said **taken**.

"We got messages," I said.

"I know."

"We were told the custody thing was what she wanted."

"I know."

"She stopped answering."

"I know."

"Kai, what the fuck are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying she looked at us like we were insane."

I paced to the window. Outside, bikes lined the compound fence. Men crossed the yard carrying boxes. Normal life. Nothing felt normal.

"Riot asked if she really thought we abandoned her," Kai said. "She said, 'I don't think it. I lived it.'"

The words hit harder than they should have. Because I remembered another set of words. Thirteen years old. Clubhouse roof.

My pinky hooked around hers because apparently I had once believed that was enough to make a promise permanent. Nobody gets left behind. If somebody disappears, we look. If somebody wants out, they tell us themselves. Fuck. I pressed my thumb into the bridge of my nose.

"We didn't hear it from her."

Kai said nothing.

"We had messages."

"From her account."

"Same fucking thing."

"Is it?"

I looked at the phone. I hated him a little for asking. Mostly because I didn't have an answer I liked.

"Where is she now?"

"Left."

"You let her leave?"

"She asked us to move."

"And?"

"I moved."

I shut my eyes.

"You're kidding."

"No."

"You found her after ten years and let her drive away?"

"She wasn't asking. She was telling us. And when Riot tried to push it, she looked—"

He stopped.

"Looked what?"

Another pause.

"Like she was back somewhere else."

That cooled my anger fast.

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

"Follow her."

"No."

My eyes opened.

"What?"

"We got the address off the registration after she left. I'm not putting a bike on her ass when she reacted like that."

I should have been pissed. Part of me was. Another part remembered Sienna at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. She had never been scared of us. Annoyed? Constantly. Pissed? Daily. Scared? No.

"Send me the address."

"Judge—"

"Send it."

He sighed. "Already did."

I looked at the new message. An apartment complex outside a small Nebraska town. I didn't know what I had expected. A house, maybe. A husband. A family. Something that explained why she had disappeared and stayed gone. Not that.

"How long has she been there?"

"Registration's almost two years old."

"Job?"

"Same diner. Looks like close to two years."

"Family?"

"I didn't dig."

That surprised me enough to stop pacing.

"You didn't?"

"She told me to stop acting like I get to know things about her just because I can find them."

I nearly laughed. That sounded like Sienna. The old Sienna. Except the old Sienna would've said it while stealing his keyboard or unplugging his monitor.

"Get Riot away from her building," I said.

"He already backed off."

"Stay close enough to watch the roads."

"There's something else."

Of course there was.

"What?"

"Unknown number called her when she was leaving the diner. She rejected it."

My jaw tightened.

"Could be nothing."

"Could be."

Neither of us believed that. I ended the call and looked at Bishop. He had been pretending not to listen. Badly.

"I need you running things for a few days."

"Figured."

"I'm going to Nebraska."

"Also figured."

He walked toward the door, then stopped. "Judge."

"What?"

"If she's really been gone because she wanted to be gone..."

"She wasn't."

"You don't know that yet."

I stared at him. He didn't back down. Bishop had been my VP long enough to get away with things other people couldn't.

"Then I'll hear it from her," I said.

That was the point, wasn't it? Hear it from her. Not a message. Not another person. Her. I left within twenty minutes. The ride should have cleared my head. It didn't. Every mile dragged up another memory. Sienna asleep on the clubhouse couch with her feet in my lap. Sienna screaming at Maddox because he put ice down the back of her shirt. Sienna crying when Zane moved. Sienna getting quieter after her mom married Rook. That one stuck. I had noticed. We all had. We just thought we knew why. Ivy said Sienna was jealous. Roman said living together had made things weird. Messages came from Sienna's accounts telling us to leave her alone. Then custody changed. Then she was gone. Simple.

Except nothing about the woman in that video looked like someone who had spent the last ten years living the life she chose. By the time I reached her town, it was after midnight. Kai texted that he and Riot were at a motel five minutes away. I ignored the motel and drove straight to the apartment complex. It was worse than the registration photo made it look. Old brick. Exterior stairs. One security light flickering like it was trying to die. Cars packed close together. No gate. No cameras that I could see from the street. Sienna had lived here for almost two years. Alone. I parked half a block away. Her Corolla was in the lot. So she hadn't left yet. Good. Then I saw the black SUV. It rolled past the complex without slowing. Maybe normal. I watched it turn at the corner. Three minutes later, it came back from the other direction. Not normal. My phone was already in my hand. **You see black SUV around her place?** I sent Kai. His answer came fast. **No. Plate?** I gave him what I could read. Then I got off the bike. The building smelled like wet concrete and old cigarettes. Sienna's unit was on the second floor. As I climbed the stairs, I heard something scrape inside. A cabinet. A zipper. Then her voice.

"Butter, I swear to God, if you hide under the bed right now, I'm leaving without you."

A cat yelled. Despite everything, my mouth twitched. Same Sienna. No. Not same. I reached the landing and saw two bags through the narrow gap in the curtain beside her door. Packed. Ready. She was leaving. Again. Anger hit first. Ten years of it. Ten years of wondering why she'd chosen everyone else over us.

Ten years of pretending I didn't give a shit because caring about somebody who didn't want you made you stupid. Then Kai's words came back. **She said she was taken.** I looked down at my phone. Another message.

**Plate comes back bad. Stolen two states over. Do not let her leave alone. Riot is on the way.** The anger changed shape. I stepped closer to the door. Inside, Sienna cursed at the cat carrier. I raised my hand to knock. Stopped. Nobody gets left behind. Funny how a promise could sound completely different after ten years. I knocked anyway.

Sienna's P.O.V.

The knock came while I was trying to convince Butter that the carrier was not, in fact, a torture device. He had all four paws braced against the opening. I had both hands around his middle. Neither of us was winning. Then someone knocked again. Three slow hits. Not a neighbor. Not Mrs. Greer asking if I had seen her package. My whole body went still. Butter took advantage of the distraction and launched himself under the coffee table.

"Traitor," I whispered.

Another knock. I grabbed my phone off the counter and checked the camera app connected to the cheap doorbell I installed myself. Knox. For one second, I forgot how to breathe.

He stood on the landing in a black leather cut, older and broader than the boy from my memories. His hair was shorter. His jaw had a rough shadow across it. The patch over his chest read **JUDGE**. Of course it did. Behind him, the stairs were empty. That did not make me feel better. I stared at the screen until he looked directly at the camera.

"Sienna."

The speaker crackled. I didn't answer.

"I know you're in there."

"Congratulations."

His mouth almost moved. Not a smile. Something close.

"Open the door."

"No."

The almost-smile disappeared.

"We need to talk."

"That sentence has never made anyone want to open a door."

"Sienna."

"Still no."

Butter darted from under the coffee table toward the bedroom.

I pointed at him. "You are not helping."

Judge's voice came through the speaker again. "There's a black SUV circling your building."

My hand tightened around the phone. I said nothing.

"The plate is stolen."

Still nothing.

"Kai checked it."

That got me. I stepped closer to the door but kept the deadbolt and chain in place.

"How does Kai know what car I'm worried about?"

"I saw it."

My stomach tightened.

"When?"

"Five minutes ago. Same SUV passed twice."

I looked toward the curtained window. The lights outside shifted. A vehicle passed the building. Slow. Too slow.

Judge lowered his voice. "Open the door."

"No."

He closed his eyes for half a second like I was testing whatever patience adulthood had given him. Good. I had a lot of material to work with.

"What do you want?" I asked.

"To get you somewhere that isn't already compromised."

"My apartment is not your problem."

"It became my problem when somebody with stolen plates started circling it."

"That's not how ownership works."

His expression changed. Good. Let that word sit there. Ownership. Control. Problem. All the things men liked to wrap around you before they told you it was for your own good. Judge seemed to hear it too. He took one step back from the door.

"I'm not saying I own you."

"Great start."

"I'm saying somebody else knows where you live."

"So do you."

"Fair."

That surprised me enough to shut me up. Judge looked over the railing toward the lot. Then his phone buzzed. He checked it.

"Riot's here."

Of course he was. Because apparently the universe had decided one ghost from my past wasn't enough for tonight. A dark SUV turned into the lot. My pulse jumped. Judge moved immediately, hand going beneath his cut. Then the driver's window rolled down. Maddox. I exhaled through my nose. Wonderful. At least his vehicle had actual plates.

Judge glanced back at the camera. "I'm going downstairs. Look out your window."

"Why?"

"Because Kai wants the car checked before you move it. That SUV kept finding you after you changed routes."

My stomach tightened. "Checked how?"

"Riot brought a detector. I'm going to show you what we find instead of asking you to trust me."

That sentence bothered me more than the others. Because it was smart.

I watched the feed as he walked down the stairs and crossed toward my Corolla. Maddox got out of the SUV holding a little handheld scanner. He swept it slowly around the rear quarter panel, stopped, checked the screen, then crouched near the bumper.

"What the hell?"

I moved to the side window and pushed the curtain back just enough to see. Maddox lay on the pavement, followed the scanner's signal under the car, and reached up behind the bumper. A few seconds later, he stood holding something small and black between two fingers.

Magnetic. Flat.

My stomach dropped. No. No, no, no.

I unlocked the deadbolt before I had time to talk myself out of it, but I left the chain on. Judge came back up holding the little black box inside a plastic evidence bag.

"Tracker," he said.

I stared at it through the crack.

"Could be yours."

His eyes hardened.

"If it were ours, I wouldn't be showing it to you."

"That is exactly what somebody using a tracker would say."

From the stairs, Maddox called, "Jesus Christ, Peaches."

My head snapped toward him.

"Don't call me that."

He stopped halfway up the stairs.

"Fine."

Judge held the bag closer to the gap. "Kai says it's live."

"Of course Kai says that."

"You want to call him yourself?"

I hesitated. Judge unlocked his phone, opened Kai's contact, then held the device toward the crack. I stared at him.

"What?"

"You said call him yourself."

His jaw worked once. Then he handed the phone through the gap. I took it. That mattered. More than I wanted it to. I hit call. Kai answered immediately.

"Judge?"

"It's me."

Silence.

Then, carefully, "Sienna."

"You said the tracker is live?"

"Yes."

"How do you know?"

"Model number. I can walk you through it if you want. Don't destroy it yet."

"Why?"

"Because whoever put it there may still think your car is moving if we relocate it."

I looked at Judge through the gap. He did not say I told you so. Smart man.

"Can you tell who owns it?"

"Not yet."

"Can you tell if it's Inferno's?"

"No. And before you ask, I don't use that hardware."

"Could one of your brothers?"

"No club tracker is registered through that carrier."

That was an answer. Not proof. But better than nothing. I hung up and handed Judge his phone.

"Now what?"

"Now you get out of here."

I almost shut the door. He put one palm flat against the frame, not the door. Not stopping it. Just close.

"Sienna, listen."

"I have been listening."

"Then hear this part. Your face and job are online. Somebody called your work before the video hit. Somebody watched you yesterday. Tonight a stolen-plated SUV follows your routes, and we find a live tracker on your car."

I hated that he was right. I hated it enough that my eyes burned. Not tears. Anger. Mostly.

"I had a plan."

"Your plan got compromised."

"By you."

"Partly."

Again, not the answer I expected. Maddox reached the landing but stayed several feet away.

"We found you because of the video," he said. "Not before."

"So the phone call wasn't you?"

"No."

"The rider yesterday?"

Kai wasn't here to answer, but Maddox shook his head.

"Not me. Not Ghost."

Judge's expression darkened. That should have made me feel better. It didn't. It made everything worse. I looked toward the bedroom. Butter had reappeared and was watching from the hallway. My duffel sat by the couch. Passport. Cash. Documents. Everything ready. I had options. Just not the ones I wanted.

"Where?" I asked.

Judge didn't pretend not to understand.

"First, the motel where Ghost has a clean vehicle waiting. Then the compound."

My laugh came out sharp.

"No."

"Sienna—"

"I'm not going back to that clubhouse."

"It's secure."

"So was my father's house, technically."

Silence. Maddox looked away. Judge's face changed. I had not meant to give them that. Too late.

"Then pick somewhere else after we get off this block," he said.

I blinked.

"What?"

"You don't want the compound, fine. We get you away from the tracker, the stolen SUV, and whoever is watching the roads. Then you choose the next stop."

Maddox looked at him like he'd lost his mind. Judge ignored him. I studied both of them.

"Phone stays with me."

"Yes."

"Passport stays with me."

"Yes."

"Cash."

"Yours."

"Butter."

Judge looked past me at the black cat.

"He goes where you go."

"Nobody touches my bag."

"Fine."

"Nobody searches my phone."

Judge's eyes flicked toward Maddox.

"Fine."

"And if I tell you to stop the car, you stop."

Maddox finally spoke. "Within reason."

I looked at him.

"Then you can stay here."

He opened his mouth. Judge cut him off.

"We stop."

Maddox swore. Judge didn't look away from me.

"You get final say once we're clear of immediate danger."

"Once we're clear?"

"If somebody starts shooting at the car, I'm not pulling over because you're pissed."

I stared at him. That was annoyingly reasonable.

"I hate you."

Something moved in his face.

"Yeah."

Not defensive. Not angry. Just yeah. That almost hurt more. I shut the door. Maddox swore louder.

Judge said, "Give her a minute."

I locked the deadbolt again. Then I stood there with my forehead against the wood, breathing. Butter rubbed against my ankle.

"I know."

He meowed.

"I know."

I had spent five years building a life where nobody got to tell me what car to get into. Now somebody had put a tracker on mine. That changed things. Not everything. But enough.

I shoved the old prepaid phone from the dresser into my duffel, left the unopened envelope where it was, then fought Butter into his carrier. He screamed like I was murdering him.

"Drama queen."

He screamed louder. I slung the duffel over one shoulder, put my passport and wallet into the inside pocket of my jacket, grabbed the carrier, and checked the apartment one last time. Tiny kitchen. Secondhand couch. Cheap blinds. Everything I had built because it was mine. I didn't know if I was coming back. That thought made my chest ache. I opened the door. Judge and Maddox were exactly where I had left them. Neither reached for me. Good. I stepped onto the landing and locked the door behind me. Judge looked at the carrier.

"That's Butter?"

"Do not judge his name."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"I'm judging the fact that he sounds possessed."

Butter hissed from inside the carrier. Maddox barked out a laugh. For half a second, the sound hit somewhere old. I ignored it. We went downstairs.

Judge took the duffel only after I handed it to him because I needed both hands to keep the carrier level. That mattered too. Annoyingly. At the bottom of the stairs, he stopped. The black SUV rolled past the far end of the street. Same one. I knew it immediately. Judge's body went hard beside me. Maddox opened the rear door of his SUV.

"Get in."

My instincts screamed. Don't. Never again. I looked at the stolen-plated vehicle disappearing around the corner. Then at my Corolla with the tracker bagged on Judge's phone hand. Then at Butter. This was not trust. I needed that clear, even if only to myself. This was strategy. Temporary. Chosen. I got into the SUV. Maddox shut the door after me. Judge climbed into the passenger seat. Before Maddox pulled away, I leaned forward between them.

"If either of you locks me in this car, I will make your lives miserable."

Maddox glanced at me in the mirror. A slow grin started. There was the bully I remembered.

"Pea—"

"Finish that nickname and I'll open this door at sixty."

The grin widened. Judge rubbed a hand over his face.

"Drive, Riot."

The SUV moved. My apartment disappeared behind us. I held Butter's carrier against my legs and watched every turn. Nobody had kidnapped me. Not yet. But I wasn't stupid enough to pretend I was free either.