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“Put on a shirt and let’s go, Hulky.”

“Now?”

“Why aren’t you moving? Your lemon-sucking frown is more sour than usual.”

My eyes go to the guest room, and Rami’s eyebrow shoots up.

“You can leave him for a few hours, he isn’t going to run away from you.”

“Rami, fuck off,” I snarl, my furious tone warning him. I’m deadly serious.

“I’m parched. Let me drink this water, and I’ll leave. Maybe Gabe will come with me.”

He pulls out his phone, and after tapping on it a couple of times, he puckers his lips. “Oh, I was wrong.”

I take the bait, “What?”

“Ollieisrunning away from you.”

He turns his phone screen toward me where a red dot is moving on a map—away from my house.

“What the fuck? Is that Ollie?”

“Raph slid a tracker in his backpack yesterday.”

We brothers all have trackers under the skin behind our ears—mine is under my armpit—as a consequence of my disappearance a few years back after a red haze attack. It’s a precaution. It helped us find Raph when he was kidnapped a couple of months back. And Rami swore to use it only in case of emergency. I didn’t know they put one in Ollie’s bag, though.

“Why?” I try to contain my anger.

“I’m a worrier.” Rami’s unapologetic shrug is inviting me to punch him right in the nose. But I know there’s a hint of truth in his words. He does worry about us and tries to protect us as best he can.

I grit my teeth and run to the guest room. It’s empty, with the window wide open, the cold from outside turning it into a freezer. I can’t see Ollie out there.

I let out a feral growl. Where the fuck is he going? And why didn’t he wait for me?

I hear Rami calling me from the garage, and when I get there, my beat-up pickup is missing.

“Fuck!”

“The twunk you’re in lurve with stole your car.”

Rami really doesn’t know when to shut up.

“Youcan lie, but not your dick.”

I growl, making my way back to my room to get dressed.

Rami unfortunately follows me. “Or your eyes. A little elf told me your lemon-sucking frown disappears in mere seconds when Ollie is around.”

I huff.

“Okay, it was Michael.”Why is he still talking?“Oh, he stopped. I remember this address, why? Serena darling, help me remember.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Rami winces hearing the nickname the AI chose for him. He hates it. “Richard Truman lives on that property with his two sons, Oliver and Sully Truman,” Serena’s clear voice comes out of his phone.

Damn it! The thought of Ollie near that son of a bitch of his father makes my guts twist painfully..

“What did you do?” Rami asks with a hint of accusation.