38
Haven
Gripping my knees for dear life, I sat in the corner chair in the front room of Wick’s and my apartment with a snoozing Bingley on my lap—her heat soaking through my jeans with a comfort I didn’t deserve—and watched the door fly open, admitting yet another one of Wick’s friends.
“I just heard,” J.J. McCannon announced, going straight to Wick, who was pacing the floor in front of me. “What the f**k happened? Why didn’t anyone call me sooner?”
Wick held up a hand to get him to back off. J.J. paused, frowned in confusion, and then glanced at his other friends, silently asking for an explanation. But they just shook their heads, not even sure how to start. So his attention veered back to Wick, who hadn’t stopped walking around the room since another one of his friends had dragged
