7
Andre's growl turned into a snarl as a dark-haired woman with broad shoulders walked into the room. She looked at him standing in front of Em, his body protecting hers, and reached for something on her belt. He was ready to launch himself at her. Was she the one who was scaring Em? Why did she have a key to her room?
"It's okay, Darlene. He's a friend. Sort of," Em called from over his shoulders.
Andre wanted to look back at her and ask what that was supposed to mean. But between the protective instinct driving him, the l**t coursing through his veins, and his need to solve the puzzle of what was trying to hurt her, he didn't have much energy left to parse that sentence.
Em tapped on his hip to move him to the side, and he found himself moving without even thinking about it. They nee
