Page 128 of Runaway Bride and Prejudice

I take a step back from the door, glaring toward the tiny camera. “Ididactually hear you breathing, then. I thought I was imagining it.”

“Nope.” It’s Callie this time, and I can hear the smile in her voice. “We’ve been watching you.”

“And listening,” Lex adds.

“That doesn’t sound terrifying,” I mutter. “Wait—and how are you talking to me through my system?”

“Oh, sweet brother,” Callie says. “You underestimate my skills.”

When she was younger, we sometimes called Callie the computer whisperer. She took apart her first computer when she was nine. Put it back together and in working order—with modifications—the next year. She developed an app at sixteen and hacked into our school’s servers her senior year. Not to change her grades but just for—as she put it—funsies.

I guess taking over my own Ring doorbell system shouldn’t be surprising.

“Looks like somebody’s having a bad day,” Alexandra says in a faux pitying tone.

“Or a bad couple of weeks,” Callie says. “Maybe you should come in and talk about the marriage you forgot to tell us about?”

“We’ll be nice,” Lex says sweetly.Toosweetly.

“We’re the nicest.” Callie’s tone suggests otherwise. She sounds like the Big Bad Wolf telling Red that his big eyes arebetter to see you with, my dear.

I snort. “You know this is not making me feel any better about coming in there.”

The deadbolt pulls back. I take another step away from the door, the instinct to runstrong. The doorknob turns and the door creaks open. Just a few inches. Enough to make this feel like my own personal horror movie.

It’s stupid. But my heart is speeding along like a runaway train, and my eyes dart from the door to the windows along the front of the house.

I don’t see anything. But … they’rethere.

“Don’t be silly, Van,” Lex says. “Just come inside. We’refamily.”

“Yeah. Which means you have fewer lines you won’t cross. Because you know I’ll forgive you.”

“I’m not sure you’re the one who should be talking about forgiveness,” Callie says. “At least, not about being the one to give it.”

“Maybe you should think aboutaskingfor it,” Lex says.

It’s then I realize they’ve been distracting me from what I should have already realized by now.

I swallow, glancing around the porch. “Where’s Grey?”

“What do you mean?” Callie asks innocently.

“Greyson hasn’t said anything,” I say, keeping one eye on the cracked open door but also glancing around. “Where is she?”

“She was just right here,” Lex says. “Darn. Whereevercould she have gone?”

The sound registers just as I feel something hitting me in the back.Hard.

Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!Again and again, I’m struck in the back, my butt, and down the backs of my legs.

Instinctively, I cover my face and huddle against the house.

They’re just paintballs, I tell myself. Because this would not be the first time. But it’s still terrifying when you’re notexpecting to be shot with them. And direct hits with paintballs aren’t exactly pleasant.

“Grey! Enough!” I bellow.

The shots stop. I drop my hands and turn toward the front yard. And jump when one more shot rings out. This one hits way too close to my crotch, leaving a purple splotch just inches to the right of my fly.

---