But even if I hadn’t known that stuff, I still would’ve known those guys out there were bad news. The gunshot must have come from them. I didn’t want to think about whether they’d already shot someone.

I held Taylor’s shoulders. She started to say something again, but I shook my head. I mouthed No to her and moved back enough so I could pull out my phone. No calls. No talking. I texted Mason instead. My phone buzzed back in seconds. Got it. Coming.

I showed Taylor the text, then pointed to my vehicle. I wanted her to get inside.

She shook her head.

I pointed again.

She shook her head again.

I thought about carrying her in there, but could tell from the set line of her mouth she wouldn’t go for that. As if sensing what I was thinking, she crossed her arms over her chest. I was still considering what to do when I caught a tear in the corner of her eye. Her hand whisked up and brushed it away as quickly as it had appeared. She raised her chin, and her eyes cut to the gate.

She wasn’t hiding. I rolled my eyes. Girl drove me crazy sometimes. I’d known from the beginning that she had trauma in her life. I could sense it, and instinct had me holding back. I wanted to swoop in and take her home with me that first night at Blaze’s party, but I refrained, a very unLoganlike quality.

But tonight, after hearing what she went through, I knew it was worth it. I’d been right to move slowly, and I knew another thing about her: she wasn’t going to hide. I couldn’t begrudge her that. Delray was her friend, her family. If it had been Nate, Mason, or Sam—no fucker would hold me back.

I gave her a reluctant nod. Her relief was evident immediately. Her arms dropped from her chest, and she nodded back to me. I saw the silent thanks on her face.

I looked back to the gate. I didn’t know what Mason was planning. He did the planning and I did the talking. Then we both did the busting. I figured I could improvise until he showed up. I could feel Taylor’s anxiousness behind me. She wouldn’t look away from the gate, but she was waiting for me.

I sighed and looked again through the little hole. No one was leaving. A few of the guys sat on the curb. A couple sat on two abandoned cars, and Delray was still smack in the middle. The leader dude was facing him.

They were waiting for someone.

Well, fuck.

I felt something nudge my hand and looked down. Taylor had typed out an unsent text message to me: Police?

I took it, erased the word, and typed: Mason might’ve called them, but your buddy’s screwed then. If he goes in, they might think he’ll narc on them.

Her forehead wrinkled, and she nodded. She wrote back, Mason is coming? That’s your plan?

You have one?

She shook her head, typing, Jason’s in trouble no matter what. I just don’t want him to get hurt right now.

I know. Let’s wait and see.

She nodded and put the phone away, turning back to the gate. She moved until she found a little eyehole to see through, too.

I took a moment and studied her. Taylor was a little thing, but she was tough. Most girls would run, hide, or cry. She was doing none of that. She was white-knuckling it out with me.

Nate had been digging at me. He knew I had feelings for her. I don’t know why he gave a shit, but he did. I hadn’t been willing to talk much, at least partly for the sheer enjoyment of pissing him off, but honestly, after dealing with Tate and being the one who hurt Kris, I was over talking about girls. I didn’t even want to talk chicks. Never had. If I liked someone, if I wanted to screw someone—bang her, get a quick dick suck—that was always my decision alone. Nate too. He bagged girls all the time and rarely talked to us about it. I knew some guys liked to gab about vagina. They bragged about past pussy or their future pink taco buffets, but we didn’t.

That was one thing I’d learned from Mason. That was beneath us. We did our own thing. If there was blowback on the group, we felt bad, but that was how it was. So Nate wanting to know about Taylor was pissing me off. If he wanted a go at her, he’d get a good beating, but I didn’t have to talk about whatever was going on with her and me.

Taylor sucked in her breath and stretched up on her tiptoes for a better view.

I looked, too.

A pair of headlights swept over the group, lighting up the area, and my gut sank. There were more guys than I’d thought. I started to reach for the gate, ready to run out if that vehicle was Mason, but when a different voice joined the group, I pulled my hand back.

“This is the guy who owes you?” The leader moved forward, and this time I saw his face: Square jaw. Big, thick eyebrows. Scraggly cheeks and tattoos that covered his neck. He had a scar next to his eye, like a bullet had grazed him there. He was an ugly motherfucker.

“What is this?” The newcomer’s voice was high. He was nervous.

“Did you bring the money?” Delray asked.

“What money?”

Okay. This was going nowhere fast. I had to think.

Putting myself in Delray’s shoes, his problem ran deep. I could tell. He owed money, or he wasn’t getting payments. This dude, whoever he was, obviously didn’t have the money. We probably had another few minutes before something popped off. What I typed to Taylor was right. If cops showed up, the pressure would be on Delray. They’d push him to narc, and even if he didn’t, these guys would worry that he had. That was the best-case scenario in my head. There’d been a gunshot before… I still didn’t have it in me to sweep the area for a body. I didn’t want to know.