She chokes back a sob, the realization that someone was here—in this room, while we slept—frightening both ofus. They got close enough to touch her. They could’ve done anything to us.
Instinctively, my fingers close around her arms, squeezing too hard. I immediately release her.
It could’ve been Dylan or one of the boys.
And I no sooner think it than the bedroom door flies open. Quinn snaps the covers up, and I jerk my head right, putting my arms around her.
Light pours in, Hunter standing right in the doorway.
His eyes widen. “Whoa.”
“Out!” I growl.
But he looks to his side, down the hall, tensing.
Ah, shit.
Kade and Hawke rush up to his side. “What the hell?” Hawke bursts out at him.
But then he sees us.
The three of them stand there, taking in the scene, Quinn and I clearly done with whatever we were doing. Bed, a mess. Hair, a mess.
“Get out!” she cries, reaching for her clothes on the chair.
But Kade only advances on us. “You son of a bitch!”
That was directed at me. He glares, and if I weren’t naked, I’m pretty sure he would’ve charged me. I haven’t been in these guys’s lives hardly at all, but I already know he’s the one who’s a pain in the ass.
“Kade!” Hawke barks.
I swing my legs over the side of the bed, pulling on my black pants. “Easy,” I chide.
Quinn and I pull on clothes, shielded by the sheet, while Kade’s the only one too angry to have the consideration to look away.
I rise, sliding my arms into my shirt. “How did you get in here?”
“You forgot to lock the mirror, I guess,” Hawke tells us. He looks to Quinn and back to me. “How long has this been going on?”
“Less than two weeks, obviously,” Quinn grumbles.
I almost pause to ask them if this is the first time they’ve been in this room in the past several hours, remembering the writing on Quinn’s back.
But judging from their reactions, this is the first time any of them are seeing us in bed together.
“Are you okay?” Hawke asks her, throwing me a suspicious glance.
“I was until you all barged in!” she yelled. “Out!”
“Can’t find an adult, huh?” Kade spits out at me. “You have to pick on someone half your age?”
“She’s not half my age.” I pull the T-shirt over my head. “And I remember seeing you flip off a twelve-year-old girl the other day?”
“She was fifteen.” He scowls. “And she’s not a girl. She’s a little shit hellbent on pissing me off every time I turn around! You’ve been gone, or you would’ve known that.”
Either way, I still don’t think Madoc knows his son is treating an underage girl like a prison rival because I don’t think he would like it.
“Quinn, get over here!” Kade barks.
