Outside, Trigger knocked again.
“HELLOOOO? DON’T MAKE US COME IN! WE’RE HOLDING SCALDING-HOT BEVERAGES!”
I laughed into Wolf’s chest. “They’re not going away.”
“No,” Wolf growled, “butthey could.”
Knock. Knock. “NORA, IF YOU’RE DECENT, CAN YOU COUGH TWICE?”
Havoc’s voice cut in. “Trigger, stop talking.”
Saint added, “Wolf, answer the door before Trigger spills coffee on himself and blames you.”
Wolf sat up with the air of a man facing execution.
He grabbed his shirt from the floor but didn’t put it on.
He just pulled it over one shoulder and left the rest hanging—half-shirt, half-warning label.
“Stay here,” he said to me softly.
“Should I be worried?” I asked.
He shot me one of those looks—the kind that saidI’ll handle everythingandyou’re mine to protectall at once.
“No,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
Then he left the bedroom.
I slipped out of bed, wrapped myself in a blanket, and followed quietly.
At the FrontDoor
Wolf opened it with all the warmth of a grizzly coming out of hibernation.
Trigger gasped loudly.
“HOLY MOUNTAIN OF MUSCLE. Good morning toyou,Wolf.”
Saint smacked him in the back of the head.
Havoc took one look at Wolf’s half-shirt and rolled his eyes. “Put a shirt on, man. I almost went blind.”
Wolf stared them all down. “Why are you here?”
Trigger beamed. “Friendship!”
Saint held up his phone. “And footage.”
Wolf snatched the phone instantly, all business now.
“What footage?”
Saint stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Morning feed. A camera across the street picked up movement around 5:17 a.m.”
My stomach dipped. “Movement where?”
“Your yard,” Saint said.
