DERRICK POV
I knew Dalton was losing it.
I saw it in his eyes the second he read that damn Russian's name in her group. And Bart Hollow’s? That was the final nail. His jaw tightened like he was chewing on glass, and I could feel the storm building under his skin.
Truth is? I was freaking out too.
Scared. Jealous. Pissed off at the universe and at every male who dared breathe near her. But I couldn’t afford to spiral—not now. One of us had to hold the line. So I did what I’ve never done in my entire life: I stayed calm.
Me.
Derrick-f*****g-Redfang.
The “punch first, talk later” guy.
Now suddenly, I’m the one breathing steady and speaking soft. The one holding our throuple together, like I’ve got the emotional range of a damn therapist. What the actual hell.
But Dalton needed me.
A
