Sam leans in first, scanning quickly. His jaw tightens. Chace picks it up next, his knuckles whitening around the paper. Mac’s hand curls tighter around Logan’s, her lips parting in quiet shock.
Logan doesn’t move. His voice cuts through the room like a blade.
“Fuck… wait… this is dated…”
“Early release.” The words scrape out of me, raw. “Good behavior, apparently. Guess monsters clean up nice behind bars.”
The silence that follows is suffocating. Heavy. Chace swears under his breath, pacing now, restless energy rolling off him like a storm. Sam sets the paper down with deliberate care, as if handling a bomb.
Logan shifts, grimacing against the pull of his still-healing injuries, but his gaze never leaves me.
I swallow hard. “Three months ago.”
Mac gasps. Even she can’t keep the sound down.
Three months. Ninety days. He’s been out there all this time. Breathing the same air. Walking the same streets. Free.
The words keep spilling before I can stop them. “It’s not just anger. Or fear. It’s… it’s like I’m seventeen again. Like every scar under this ink burns fresh. Like the walls are closing in and I’m back in that house. He stole everything. My childhood. My mother’s mind. And now he walks free like none of it ever happened.”
The confession tears something open in me. I clench my fists against my thighs. I don’t want their pity. Don’t want their soft eyes or whispered comforts.
But they don’t give me that.
“Trey…” Mac says, reaching her hand out. I take it in mine. Quiet strength. No pity in her expression—just a shift to something almost mirthful.
“You’re not some broke, punk seventeen-year-old anymore—full of emotions and covered in scars. Now you’re a rich, six-foot-three, fucked-up twenty-one-year-old covered in tattoos. That being said, little brother, Logan and I finally get a year that’s about us. Think you can bump your daddy issues to next year?”
“Can’t be next year. I plan on having a meltdown while becoming a mob boss,” Chace objects.
“Year after. I’m dealing with some family stuff,” Sam adds.
“Looks like we can pencil you in after that, okay?” Mac says sweetly.
I freeze for a moment, staring into her mischievous eyes.
“It’s fine. You’re probably going to forget all this anyway!”
“Huh? Sorry, who are you?” she responds.
“Not funny, angel,” Logan grumps.
“Sorry, baby. I’ll make it up to you later.”
“You guys are the fucking worst… I love you, guys.”
“We love you, too.”
“Trey, if you can tell me where you think he is, I can take care of it.”
Sam shakes his head—calm but no less fierce. “You know that’s not the way, Chace. But we’ll protect him. All of us. Even if Trey can be an annoying little shit at times, he’s our little shit.”
“You wouldn’t have me any other way!” I say, walking over to Sam. I signal for him to lean forward, staring intently at his bald head.
“What? What is it?” Sam asks, confused.
“Sam… you are so handsome, man. I think I’m going to take a look online and order some headphones for you. Over-the-ear ones for when you work out.”
“Thanks, why?”
