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“All right,” Rowdy began once Roc had shown Golden and Joren the photo. The reason they’d been called back here. “I’m only going to ask you this once, Atlas. How did you get this photo?”
“Someone sent it to me,” I answered immediately. I knew Rowdy wasn’t fucking around.
“Who?”
I lifted my chin, refusing to cower. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure…” he repeated slowly.
“It’s the truth. The sender didn’t leave a name, only a letter telling me where to find you.”
“Why?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know that either.”
It was Roc’s turn to speak. “You mean to tell me someone you don’t know sent you a photo of more people you don’t know and told you to come here, and you just…listened?”
“I know how it sounds,” I said. “It was stupid and dangerous and irrational, but being inside my head was the last place I wanted to be. My father had just died, my mother basically told me to get lost, and my—” I stopped and inhaled, not wanting to go down that road again. “Look, I needed a change, an excuse to run, so when this letter came, I saw a way out and took it.” My gaze traveled to Rowdy, knowing he’d be the only one to understand. “I didn’t care about this person’s motives or what I might be walking into.”
“And we’re supposed to believe you?” Joren snapped. “Do you know how that sounds?” He took a threatening step forward, just as Roc had, but before I could react, Rowdy’s head snapped in his direction.
“You must want to die today.” It was all Rowdy said. All he needed to say, apparently.
Joren halted his approach, his shocked gaze flitting between Roc and Golden.
“Join the club,” Roc mumbled bitterly.
I guess he was still understandably raw about his best friend of twenty years choosing me over him.
Still, he and Golden moved closer, placing themselves between Joren and me…like they, too, would protect me from him. Or maybe they were just protecting Joren from Rowdy.
Yeah, that made more sense.
Seething, Joren turned to square off with his boy. “I know we discussed you handling her yourself,” he said to Rowdy, making my heart fall to my stomach, “but fuck all of that. She lied, so she needs to be dealt with. Why are we even letting this bitch explain herself? We shoot first andneverask questions. That’s how this shit works!”
The silence that followed was so heavy that you could hear a pen drop or, more accurately, the sound of Rowdy switching the safety off his gun. “Call her a bitch again,” he said through gritted teeth, “and I’m going to show you how this nine works.”
My breath hitched even as my mind continued to search for a way out. I’d decided I wouldn’t allow myself to hope, even fleetingly, that Rowdy still cared enough not to hurt me or let his friends hurt me. He still didn’t know the worst of it yet.
“Really?” Joren spewed. “You gon’ take her side when she’s been lying to you—and us—this entire time? This ain’t just about you, O. This affects all of us, so you don’t get to decide alone how we deal with this.”
A thousand scathing retorts rose at once, but I swallowed them all down except the one least likely to get me killed.
“Look, I can’t speak to what you should do,” I said in order to bring their focus back to me and keep them from killing one another. “That’s for you to decide. I can only tell you the truth and pray for the best. I didn’t come here with ill intentions toward any of you. I just wanted to start over without any lies.”
The truth was, after falling in love with Rowdy, I hadn’t cared about the reason I was sent here to find them. The truth was, even after everything, come what may, I was glad that I’d come. The truth was, I’d be worse off if I’d stayed in Ossella. If I’d stayed to watch my mom turn me away over and over and my ex and best friend start a life together with me reduced to that unpleasant footnote they both liked to pretend never happened.
“You said you weren’t sure who sent this letter and photo,” Golden spoke for the first time.
“Yeah?”
There was no malice in his gaze or tone when he said, “That means you have some idea.”
“Not really. Only that the sender is definitely female and…” I swallowed. “Owen knows her.”
“What?” His frown deepened as he stared at me.
“I—I saw the letters in your tackle box.”
