Page 6 of You Belong With Me

“It doesn’t appear this Sin dude agrees,” Jackson says.

My phone pings, and I pull it out of my back pocket. It’s a text from Lindsay.

I think we found Wyn. We’re in front of her apartment. You should get over here.

Shethinksthey found Wyn? Either Lindsay knows where Wyn is or she doesn’t. But I don’t like the urgency in her text.Fuck.

Suddenly impatient with all this Tyler shit, I blow out a breath. “Alright, give this guy a warning, then cut him loose.”

Christian flashes me a look. “Wouldn’t it be better to send him over the cliff? Send a message?”

“Nah, they need to know we have their names. They’ve been hiding in the shadows for fuck knows how long, but now we know who they are.”

Jackson nods. “Yeah, I agree. They might back off knowing they’re no longer anonymous.”

“Can’t we send that same message with this guy splattered against some rocks?” Christian says.

I roll my eyes at my bloodthirsty brother. “Just tell him to retract his statement to the police and tell his cunt leader to back the fuck off, or we retaliate.”

And no one wants the Burning Crown to retaliate. We have endless resources, and when we punch back, we do real damage. The Sacred Sons aren’t known for their mercy. When we strike, we strike hard.

I send a quick reply to Lindsay.

What’d you find?

Christian pushes off the weight machine. “Fine, whatever.” He flicks his chin at my phone. “Where are you off to?”

I shake my head. “Just some drama with Wyn.”

“Fucking chicks man,” Jackson moans.

“Tell me about it,” I say. I’m already halfway up the staircase that leads up to the main floor. “Text me when this shit is done.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Christian says to me as he pulls the vault door open.

When I reach the main floor, I shut the basement door, and it automatically locks. I glance at my phone as I head out to my car, which is parked in the long driveway behind Rush House.

No reply from Lindsay. I could call her, but I’m already peeling out of the driveway. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes, anyway.

As my fingers tighten around the steering wheel, my heart pounds against my ribs, remembering Lindsay’s last text.

You should get over here.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? And why do I feel fucking anxious about it? This feeling is foreign to me. I don’t usually worry about anyone else—well, maybe Christian, Jackson, or Roman, but they can usually handle their own shit without me having to get involved.

But Wyn?Fuck.She’s vulnerable in ways that terrify me.

I speed down the coastal highway, parking in front of Wyn’s apartment within minutes. Lindsay and a couple of other people are leaning against their cars, waiting for me to arrive.

As I get out of my car, I don’t even stop to talk to them, because it doesn’t fucking matter what they say. I’ll beat down Wyn’s door if I have to.

“We can hear her inside, but she’s not answering the door,” Lindsay says, keeping pace with me. The others hang behind. “Nicole talked to the building manager, but the lady wouldn’t do anything.”

My long strides eat up the space between my car and Wyn’s door. I bang on the slab of flimsy wood. I’d use my key, but I forgot it back at Rush House. “Yo! Wyn, open up.”

I hear something—a shift of movement beyond the door that’s currently separating me from my consort. I bang on the door again. When there’s still no answer, I briefly consider calling her, but, yeah, fuck that. Instead, I shove my foot through the door. The flimsy bolt gives way immediately, taking that shitty chain lock with it.

Wyn is sitting in the center of her bed, eyes wide. She looks shocked by my presence, which is fucking ridiculous. Last night, she drugged me and then dipped. What’d she think—that I’d just let that shit slide? That I wouldn’t hunt her down and drag her back to my bed?

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