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Derek?

How?

Why?

“Can you hear what they’re saying?” I ask him and he sighs.

“Naw, there is no audio.” A couple of keys click in the background. “I do have them going out to the parking lot together on one occasion and getting into a dark blue sedan you might recognize.”

Motherfucker.

My heart hammers in my ears and my chest heaves with every labored breath.

Derek tried to run us off the road.

“What about the trackers?”

He sucks in a breath. “Uh, this is where things get… weird. Because sometimes the trackers are where they should be when I can see them on camera, but other times, the trackers are sitting at home.”

“Goddamn it,” I hiss, spinning to look at Lennon. She’s watching me with worried eyes, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. Everyone else is staring at me, too, but I don’t even spare them a glance.

My mind is elsewhere.

If Owen rented the sedan for Derek and they were riding together, that could explain why the trackers were at home sometimes. But what about their phones?

Why would they leave the phones at home?

The more I look at Lennon’s face, the more my mind races. It feels like all the pieces are laying on the table in front of me and I just can’t see how they all go together.

Lennon was attacked by a woman.

Derek is working with Owen.

And who else has been circling Lennon and I like a fucking vulture since this whole thing started?

Leigh-Ann.

“Fucking bitch,” I growl as I pull the phone away from my ear and hang up without a word, already turning for the door. She’s the only damn person I can think of that could also be involved in all this. I can’t be certain but I’m damn sure about to find out.

“What is going on, Rooster?” Storm asks. I spare him a glance before looking back towards the door and charging out into the hallway of the hospital.

I’m about to go get some fucking answers.

“Rooster,” Storm yells, his voice echoing down the hospital hallway.

I don’t stop.

The squeak of shoes comes from behind me and I glance back as Jumper jogs to catch up with me. He flashes me a grin but his eyes are serious, ready for fight.

“Where are we going, brother?”

I turn back to the hallway in front of me. “Leigh-Ann.”

“What?” he asks, his feet stuttering on the linoleum floor before he regains his footing and continues after me. “You think she’s behind the attack on Lennon?”

“That was Streak on the phone,” I tell him. “He looked into the bar footage. Owen’s ‘friend’ that he rented the car for is Derek. He’s got them on video multiple times including once getting into the blue sedan that tried to run Lennon and I off the road.”

“Oh shit,” he whispers.