SARAH My chest suddenly feels tighter. It’s an odd but sweet feeling that has me holding back my smile. “That’s nasty.” I say, masking my smile with a frown I skillfully shoot his way. A knowing smile creeps into his face. I know, for a fact, that he can see me for the fucking liar I am. Is it nasty that he licked my juices off his face? Yes. Do I want to suck his tongue so I can taste myself so bad? Also yes. Two very dirty truths can definitely co-exist. He sits up, and my eyes remain glued to the skin of his chest which his open buttons expose. I exhale a shaky breath as he pulls me between his legs. One hand tucks my hair behind my ear, carefully tracing every inch of my skin his fingers can reach. God. That hand. That thumb. That deep look in his eyes. Everything about him threatens to suck me deeper than I already am. It leaves me wondering how I’ve managed to survive with the three of them, if his presence alone leaves me so breathless and filled with butterflies everywhere. Even in places butterflies shouldn’t exist. “You like nasty,” he replies in a soft tone. Like I said, he knows me too well. It’s as infuriating as it’s sweet. I roll my eyes. “I do not.” “Mmm-hmm.” He smirks. “You do. That’s why you’re here. With me. With us. You want every bit of nasty we have to give.” Damn it. He’s right. However, I cannot let him win. Sarah Wellspring always has a smart retort, and this time can’t be any different. Unfortunately, I do not get the chance. The knock on the window makes me look away from the window, and over to the door. Ronan does the same. His long arm reaches for the door behind him and presses the button. The window rolls down to reveal Jaxon standing outside with his arms crossed across his chest and scowl on his face. “Time’s up. We need her back now.”Ronan parts his lips to speak, but Malachi pokes his head into the car. “Don’t say a word, Ro. We gave you ten minutes.” “Only?” I add, and he shoots a glare at me that leaves me choking on my own laughter. Ronan cracks up beside me. I’ve been caught red-handed. Literally. Red-cheeked too, at this point. “Fine, fine.” Ronan begins to fasten his zipper. Yes. I do remember when I undid that. He locks his three buttons back into place before he speaks. “Someone grab me some wipes.” Malachi looks up, and Simon—bless his poor traumatized soul—nods and walks into the grocery store next to where we parked. Meanwhile, I’m in the backseat trying to make myself look halfway presentable. My dress is a mess, thighs are pressed shut, and my hair is an absolute wreck. All the pulling I did while riding Ronan’s face didn’t leave my hair feeling very flattered at all. I try to take a look at myself in the rear view mirror, to fix as much of the damage as I can. That’s when I feel the vibration in my purse. Again. I look down at it, not wanting to move an inch. The sound returns…again. Gulping down my saliva, I reach into my purse, unzip it, and pull out my phone. My brows pull together as I stare at the home screen. It’s a text from UNKNOWN. I stare at it. With every second that passes, my heart plummets, faster and faster, into the pit of my stomach. Malachi’s laugh seems to echo from a distance, despite the fact that they’re all standing barely centimeters away from me. What’s happening to me? Why am I sweating profusely? What’s this feeling in my throat that is choking me? Robbing me of the very air I need to breathe. I look down at my screen again. “It’s an attachment,” I murmur to myself, sucking in a deep long breath. Five seconds later, I let it out. “It could be Luke or someone at the office trying to get to me. There’s no need to be scared, Sarah.” If I say it with more conviction, maybe I would actually start to believe it. Shit. I tap on the message, and it feels like forever before it finally opens. My spine goes rigid. I’m frozen…on that very spot. Only my eyes are left with the luxury of movement. The jolts of shock render every other part of me useless. I blink, again and again. The attachment is a picture of this exact moment. I stare at the image of me in the car. Ronan is standing just beside it, Malachi is near him while Jaxon slightly to the side. Just as it is right now. The angle is blurry. Whoever took it was far enough that they couldn’t get a clear picture, but close enough regardless. Far too close. I spin my head, peeking out the window. My eyes scan left, right, every direction, even behind us. I’m being followed. Someone is fucking stalking me! My grip on the phone tightens, and that’s when the second message comes in. “I know every move they make. Are you ready to listen to me now?” I can’t breathe. My throat is closing. My vision starts to blur, but the tears I desperately need do not come. The air feels thicker. Like smoke without a fire. The door. I turn to the one behind me. The one away from the brothers, away from whoever is watching and out to get me. I need to get out. I push it open and stumble out of the car, almost hitting the concrete. My knees feel like jelly. I’m about to fall when strong arms grab me from behind. It’s both Ronan and Malachi. I’m not certain how they were able to get to me so quickly, but I’m lucky. “Baby?” Ronan’s voice is thick with worry. I can hear it. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I can’t speak. I just grab Malachi’s wrist with one hand, Ronan’s with the other, holding on like they’re the only things keeping me upright—because they are. “I can’t breathe,” I gasp. The tears start to come. I can feel them. “Someone’s here. Someone…someone is here with us.” “What?” Malachi adds, visibly confused. “What are you talking about? Who’s here?” “I’m being watched,” I choke out. “Someone…someone is watching us.” They glance at each other above my head, then back at me. “What the hell are you talking about?” Malachi pushes. “Tell us, baby. Please.” I spin toward the car, my heart in my throat. “My phone,” I whisper. “It’s in the car.” Malachi doesn’t hesitate. He turns towards the open door and reaches for the phone beside my purse. He stares at the screen. I watch as blood drains from his face almost immediately. When he looks away from the screen, the rage in his eyes is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. “What the fuck is this?” My lips tremble as I fight to hold back my tears. “Who the hell is doing this?” That’s when I lose the battle. Hot, scorching tears come rushing down my eyes. “I don’t know,” I cry “It started the night we went to the vineyard. I got a strange call when I got back. Someone was watching me from my room window.” Ronan’s fists clench so tight I hear his knuckles crack. Jaxon snatches the phone from Malachi and scrolls. “It’s a weird number,” he mutters as his gaze frantically moves. “No ID. Nothing.”“We’re going to find out,” he says. His confidence is reassuring, their anger is comforting. I’m not alone in this. I will never be. Jaxon turns to me and grips my face in his big, warm hands. “Look at me, baby,” I do as he says. “We are going to get to the bottom of this. But you’re not in danger, okay? Not while we’re here.” “What if I am?” I whisper. “What if you are? They said they know everything. The things you’ve done.” I search their faces for any signs of a secret. If there’s something I do not know that my stalker knows, I need to know it now. “What things? What have you done? Is there something I don’t know? You’d tell me, right? You’d never lie to me?” Jaxon cups my face even tighter. “We will never lie to you. There’s nothing you don’t know. I swear it. We’ll take care of you. We will.” He sounds so sure, so genuine, so…Jaxon. But my eyes keep darting from him, to Ronan, to Malachi. Back again. Something in me remains restless. “Breathe, baby,” Ronan says, running a hand down my arm. “Just breathe out. We’ve got you.” “Breathe with us,” Jaxon adds. I tap my chest, trying to follow their rhythm. In. Out. In. Out. But then I look at Malachi. He’s not speaking. He’s not blinking either. The smile he always wears is gone. In its place is something else entirely. A raging storm that the veins in his head and neck can’t seem to hold back. “Mal?” I whisper. His jaw twitches. “Julian.” Jaxon slowly turns to him. “What?” Malachi’s voice is as cold and sharp as ice. “It’s Julian Cross.”