Page 69 of Brazen Criminals

I don’t think I’d tell any of the other guys that. Jansen would make a joke, Walker would distract me, Trips would try to kill the problem—but RJ, he listens.

He slips out from my arm, but instead of getting up, he sits back down facing me, pulling me in for a hug. I’ve never been this close to RJ, and it feels strange, our knees touching, both of us leaning forward but no longer pressed together like during the ride. I hear a small sigh against my ear, and a barely audible “Me too.”

He holds me for a moment longer, just long enough for the hug to feel nice instead of new, then lets go. “We should get inside. Everyone’s worried about you.”

I nod, tucking my hair behind my ear. It’s a tangled mess from the short ride, but oddly, I don’t care right now. Right now, I need to get into the house. I need to be surrounded by the guys. I need to fix this somehow.

Jansen is waiting at the back door, and he throws it wide, scanning the yard once before snapping it shut behind us, the lock clicking into place. It’s like we’re entering a military compound instead of our home.

Once the door is secured, he tugs me into his arms, kissing the top of my head before dragging me to the living room. Trips and Walker meet us there—they must have been guarding the front of the house. Walker pulls me in for a hug too, urging me to sit in the middle of the couch. He settles on my left, Jansen on my right, Trips in his chair, and RJ in the last chair. They all look at me—except for Trips, who is barely holding it together, his fists clenching and unclenching, his jaw tight, his eyes glued to the rug.

“What happened?” RJ asks.

Walker rubs one of my knees, and Jansen grabs my good hand, squeezing it for strength.

The anxiety in me spikes, and without my hand, I don’t know where to direct the extra energy. My foot bounces as I stare at the coffee table. “Emma and I were out for brunch. My phone buzzed, and there was a number I didn’t know. But it was Bryce. He said I was his, that he was coming to get me, to keep me safe.”

Trips growls something that sounds like “Asshole,” but it’s hard to understand with his jaw clenched.

I clear my throat. “I freaked. Emma texted Walker, we paid and took off.” I turn to Jansen. “I had to leave my leftovers. He fucking stole my lunch.”

Jansen flashes me a small smile, while Walker squeezes my leg. “I’ll make you lunch, Princess,” Walker states.

They all wait for me to continue. I go back to staring at the coffee table. There’s a little nick on the corner, a gouge I hadn’t noticed before. “Emma must have been getting directions because we took off down the alley. Bryce was following us, but I didn’t see him until we were halfway down the block. We ran, RJ met us at the other end of the alley, Emma took off for her car, and I went with RJ.”

I turn to Walker. “Did she get home safe?”

He pulls out his phone and checks, nodding as he sends a quick message back. “She’s home safe and sound. Bryce didn’t follow her.”

I pull my phone out and toss it to RJ. “You probably want to look at this, right?”

Trips clears his throat. “You should get printouts of all the texts for court tomorrow.” He stands up and starts out of the room. “I’m going to make a phone call,” he announces, the sound of heavy footsteps echoing from the stairwell.

“Shit,” Jansen mutters.

“What?” I ask.

Walker lets go of my leg to run both of his hands down his thighs. “He’s calling his dad.”

“I take it they don’t get along?”

RJ looks over his shoulder, back in the direction Trips just went. “Trips hates his dad. He thinks he’s a hypocrite and maybe a murderer. I don’t really know the details. But Trips only talks to his dad when he has to—his dad never does anything without an exchange. Trips will have to make a deal.”

“Why is he calling his dad if he hates him so much?” I ask.

“For you,” Walker says.

I look down at the table again—what in the world does Trips’ dad have to do with me?

“His dad is super connected. If I were to guess, he’s getting you a lawyer for court tomorrow,” RJ says, answering my unvoiced question.

That makes sense. I don’t like that Trips is accruing a debt with his dad for me, but something tells me this is like the pink chairs. I can try to stop this from happening, but even if I protest, some hotshot lawyer is going to be at my trial tomorrow. Now I have to worry about how to pay for a lawyer, as well as rent. Cool.

“What now?” I ask, deciding to worry about the money issue later.

“We figure out how Bryce found you,” Jansen says.

We all look at RJ. “I’ll go grab my laptop,” he says.

---