“She’s giving up.” Holt laced his fingers behind his head and paced another tight circuit of Brax and Mia’s living room. He needed to do something. Preferably something that would eliminate the threat Cayla’s ex-husband posed. Permanently.
“Okay, you look about two steps away from a berserker rage. Maybe you ought to start at the beginning now that we’re all here,” Brax said evenly.
With the part of his brain that wasn’t currently plotting Raynor’s demise, Holt appreciated his friends’ rapid response to the SOS he’d sent out. Jonah sat in the armchair, elbows braced on his knees. Brax and Mia occupied the sofa, sitting thigh-to-thigh, as they often did since reconciling. As if, after all those lost years, they couldn’t bear to be even that far apart if they were in the same space.
He’d
