Oh, Sheldon. She was so strong. She turned to look at the reporter. She’d been crying, but she didn’t pay her tears any attention. That was my girl. No matter who was coming after her, what was being done to her, she always held strong.

I had to protect her. This is my gift to you, Sheldon. It was not time, not yet, but when it was, I was going to tell her about our connection. She’d be so happy. I knew she would. She had no one. Those two boys were nothing. They didn’t deserve to be in the same room as her, much less hold her, be with her, comfort her. But no, I was wrong. They loved her. They protected her. Yes, yes. They were doing what I did. They would protect her, no matter what. I had to remember this.

They were okay. Yes, they were. They didn’t deserve her. No one did, but they would protect her.

My hands turned into fists. My fingers started to dig into my skin, and I gritted my teeth, but I didn’t feel the pain. The real pain was Sheldon, being with them and not me.

I should be with her, and I will be. I knew that without a doubt. One day. One day, she’ll find out about our connection, and she won’t be angry with me.

She said the name. Guadalupe Ramirez. That’s who had cut her brakes. This person had tried to hurt Sheldon.

It was decided. I knew what to do.

I would hurt Guadalupe Ramirez instead.

No one would dare hurt Sheldon after this. I would make the message loud and clear.

*

SHELDON

Corrigan was disguised to look like an Asian guy.

When Denton’s makeup artist heard what we had planned, she was all-in. She grinned at me. “I saw your press conference. Rock on, girlfriend. I say screw whoever killed your friend.”

“Thanks.”

Corrigan snapped his fingers in the air, pointing to himself. “Right here. I’m the double agent being sent out. I need as much help as possible.” He met my gaze in the mirror and winked. “Dim down my good looks. I dare you to try.”

The girl laughed, her eyebrow lifted. She drawled, studying his face, “I don’t know about that, but I can make you a different ethnicity. That should work.”

“Make it happen.”

And she did. When Corrigan left, all his golden brown curls were stuffed under a headpiece. His hair was black and combed to the side. He even had on contacts to cover his green eyes. He pressed a kiss to my forehead. I moved back and shook my head. “Doesn’t feel right, dude. You’re,” I waved a hand up and down at him, “not Corrigan, even though I know you are. You know what I mean?”

He laughed, and the sound relaxed me a little. That was all Corrigan right there, in his cocky husky-sounding chuckle. “See ya, Smalls.”

“Smalls?”

He didn’t respond to my question, but ducked out and headed to the car waiting. Mena was right behind him. She paused in front of me, not looking at me. Tucking some of her hair behind her ear, she let out a soft sigh. “I’ll watch him, Sheldon.” She looked up now. I was struck speechless at the seriousness in her eyes. She said again, in earnest, “I mean it. He’ll be safe.”

“Oh-kay.” I nodded. “Okay then.” I frowned. “Thanks?”

Her petite little chin moved up and down in a firm movement, then she followed behind. Closing the door, there were similar expressions to how I was feeling. Disbelief and just confusion. Denton seemed mystified, with a hand holding the side of his face.

“All right then.” Bryce broke the silence. “I say we have our own little pool party.” He took off after that, before anyone could agree.

Denton swung around to me. “Okay. My sister was confusing, but that,” he indicated where Bryce had gone, “is even more confusing. He and Corrigan seem to switch places every other day now.”

I shrugged. “The situation isn’t a normal one, you know.” A pool party was sounding more and more appealing. “Come on. I can’t swim, but I can drink and tan. Let’s get in our swimsuits and head out there. I, for one, would like to get wasted. Last night wasn’t enough.”

Denton grunted, falling in line beside me as we went toward the bedrooms. “Wasted? We weren’t wasted. Our conversation was too damn depressing for the alcohol to take effect.”

I laughed. He was right. Pausing at my door, I flashed him a grin. “Well, we’ll rectify that. See you down there.”

He gave me a salute. “I’ll get some more wine.”

My door was closing, but I yelled through it, “Screw the wine! Let’s do margaritas this time.” As I started changing clothes, I heard his laugh. “Sounds good.”

I was heading back through the kitchen to grab everything when I saw that Beth was in there. She was making sandwiches and she looked up when she heard me in the doorway. A small smile appeared, but the ends looked strained. As she stood at the counter, her head folded back down and her shoulders hunched over.

She seemed sad, beaten down almost.

I pressed my lips together. It wasn’t my problem. I moved around her to reach for the martini glasses.

She murmured, cutting some cheese on a plate, “If you’re going to drink margaritas, you need the good stuff.” She gestured to the pantry with her knife in hand. “There are better glasses in there. I found them yesterday. Much bigger.”

“Thanks.” I frowned at her, but went and found the margarita glasses she was talking about. She was right. They were huge. Grabbing a whole tray of them, I brought them back out into the kitchen. Then I started looking around for everything I needed.

Again, but without saying a word this time, Beth started grabbing everything I would need. She pulled out the ready-made mix, then grabbed an ice grinder and placed it next to me, along with a pitcher and a big wooden spoon to stir it all.

“Thanks.”

She still didn’t look at me, but lifted a shoulder. “I might be hoping to have one so I’m not helping out of the goodness of my heart.” Now she looked up, sending another small grin at me before she went back to her sandwiches. Pulling out a bag of deli turkey, she began laying slices on the bread, covering the cheese.

“Is that for my dad?”

“Nope.” She kept laying meat on the bread. “This is for you guys and your pool party.”

Okay. Enough was enough. I stepped back, turned my back so I was leaning against the counter and folded my arms over my chest. “What’s the game here?”