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Clay finishes his call and turns around, scowling at me standing. “We need to move you inside.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Clay shakes his head. “Aaron did this to you, didn’t he?”

I nod. “Yes.”

Clay’s face is pure anger. “The PI I hired just called and told me he was last seen near your loft. He forwarded a photo.”

Clay holds his phone out, and both Ares and Brawley go stiff.

“Luca,” Ares says, voice deceptively calm.

My eyes widen. “That’s Aaron.”

“We need to find him,” Brawley seethes.

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. The cemetery smells like dirt and something I can’t put my finger on.

“We need to get Kayla to the house first and have a doctor look over her, then we can worry about Luca or Aaron,” Ares says, and everyone nods. “Can you walk?”

I take a step and my legs don’t collapse. “Apparently.”

Ares moves in beside me, close enough that his arm brushes mine, not helping but close just in case. We make it about thirty feet before my legs give out with no warning. One second everything is fine and the next the ground is too close for comfort. Clay catches me before I hit the ground and pulls me up into his arms.

“Put me down,” I argue.

I’m not useless; I can walk home. I won’t let Aaron win.

“No,” he states as he keeps walking.

I consider fighting him, but think better of it, reminding myself how recently I had been drugged and buried alive. “I can walk, you know,” I finally mutter.

“You were doing a really shitty job at it.”

I scoff. “I was doing fine.”

“You nearly ate shit, Kayla. You are not fine.”

“Maybe I was just testing the ground to make sure it was stable.”

Clay chuckles. “Right, sounds legit.”

“Can you at least put me down at the gate?” I complain.

“I’ll put you down when we get inside.”

I relax into the safety of his arms around me. Everything fucking hurts—my back and shoulders, even my lungs. Whatever Aaron gave me is wearing off, but too slowly, and my mouth tastes like dirt.

Ares falls into step on our left, while Brawley is somewhere behind us. But I’m grateful there isn’t anyone around—I don’t want people to see me like this.

“I can’t believe we didn’t pick up that Luca was Aaron,” Ares finally declares, and I presume he is talking to Clay.

“He is good at what he does,” I answer. “None of you could have known. I’m sorry I put you all in danger.”

“You did nothing wrong,” Brawley says. “This is all on him. And when we find him, he won’t be able to walk.”

The house comes into sight, but the lights are off and my stomach sinks. Vero didn’t go home; he is allergic to turning lights off.