I straightened my spine, channeling every ounce of stubborn bravery I’d learned through years of assholes trying to intimidate me. “I’m not going to let some online trolls scare me out of my house.”
“Faith, this changes everything.”
With the case? Or with us?“Like what?”
“Your safety.” His voice dropped to that lawyer tone heprobably used to make juries weep. “There’s a reason they put bulletproof vests on murder suspects when they walk them into courthouses.”
Murder suspect. The words landed like stones in my stomach. That’s what I was now, forever inscribed on the internet. Not just my name and the wordmurderanymore either. My name was linked to gruesome photos of the crime.
And they served as a graphic reminder to Ryker too. Maybe he’d been trying to see past it, but now the evidence was everywhere. Unavoidable. Undeniable.
Look who I really am, folks.Even if I didn’t kill anyone on purpose or with premeditation, there were plenty of other things about myself I was ashamed of. Things I’d worked so hard to bury. And if they leaked the crime scene photos this easily, they’d leak everything else too. Every secret, every mistake, every reason I’d learned to hide who I really was.
All of it laid bare for the world to see. Forever.
My chest tightened. This was always how it ended, wasn’t it? People getting close enough to see the real me and then pulling away. At least when I controlled the narrative, I could decide what people saw. But this … this was my worst nightmare. Complete exposure with zero armor left.
“Jesus, be more subtle about it, why don’t you?” Blake snapped, shoving Ryker’s shoulder hard enough to make him stumble back a step.
“Do not start this shit again,” I commanded, stepping between them like a referee at a particularly violent hockey match. Which, apparently, was my new full-time job.
That’s when I really looked at them. Blake sported a growing bruise across his left cheekbone that was already turning an impressive shade of eggplant while Ryker’s split lip had started bleeding again. They both looked like they’d lost fights with a particularly vindictive staircase.
A wet one.
I grabbed two dish towels from the counter and threw one ateach of them. Blake caught his reflexively. Ryker’s bounced off his chest.
“Look, let’s all take a minute to breathe, okay?” I insisted, my inner caretaker kicking into overdrive despite everything. “You two need to get cleaned up. You look like you both just lost middle-school wrestling matches.”
“At least I won mine,” Blake muttered.
“You sucker-punched me,” Ryker shot back.
“Your face was in the way of my fist. Not my problem.”
Harper smirked from her perch on my couch, clearly enjoying the testosterone-fueled chaos like it was her personal Netflix subscription.
“And you.” I pointed at Axel, who’d been lounging against my doorframe like he owned the place, looking far too amused by the whole situation. “Why are you here?”
“Dakota’s stuck in some all-day branding meeting.” He shrugged with practiced nonchalance. “She insisted I come check on you. Something about making sure you’re still breathing. Or maybe to make sure you haven’t murdered anyone else.”
“Dick,” Blake shot back while Axel smirked.
But I was grateful for Axel’s teasing. It made me feel less like a contagious disease and more like someone who could still be part of the joke instead of the punch line.
“Says the guy who showed up to beat his sister’s lawyer into hamburger meat.” Axel’s grin was pure provocation. “At least I brought my charming personality.”
“Is that what we’re calling it?” Ryker dabbed at his lip, wincing.
Axel’s eyes gleamed with unholy delight. “Careful, Counselor. Keep running that mouth, and Blake might rearrange your face again. He’s on a roll today.”
“Why did you come over here?” Axel asked Blake, all faux innocence.
“To clean up Ryker’s knuckles from hisfirstfight today.”
Axel barked out a laugh that echoed off mywalls. “Two fights in one day? Watch out, Counselor. You’re losing your shit. Next thing you know, you’ll be getting neck tattoos and riding a motorcycle.”
Despite myself, I smirked. I really did appreciate Axel’s energy right now. When someone shows up at your front door to warn you that the internet might want you dead, laughing about split knuckles felt surprisingly therapeutic.
