Kian said under his breath, “Now.”

Moving as if we were synced together, we got out of his sedan, quietly closed the doors, and went to the front door of my building. On the drive to my apartment, Kian said we’d be using the front door. They wouldn’t be expecting it. As I inserted my key and the door opened for us, they weren’t. No one yelled. No cameras were flashing pictures. There wasn’t a stampede coming from across the street for us.

We took the stairs, hurrying upstairs with only the scuffle of our shoes sounding from us. When we got to my floor, Kian stopped me before going through the door. “You ready for this?”

My heart was racing. I should’ve been out of breath, but I wasn’t. I was on an adrenaline high. We were about to sneak into my apartment old apartment, and somehow, I was going to talk this out with Erica. That was my hope.

It might’ve been a grandiose one, but when I’d woken up next to Kian this morning, I had to try. I just had to. Being with him last night did something to me. It changed me somehow. My outlook on life wasn’t in hiding anymore. I didn’t care if the nation was going to hate me or blame me or crucify me. They did it before, and I survived, and that was when I had no one. I had people this time. Or I hoped I did. I had a roommate. I had a friend who was obsessed with my roommate, and Jake…well, I didn’t know where he fit in, but I used to love him.

Well…

Maybe friendship was a lofty goal with him.

Either way, I needed to talk to Erica face-to-face, and I needed to apologize for lying all these years. And the running-away part wasn’t good either.

Thinking about it all, about talking it out with Erica, my hand reached for Kian’s. It fit perfectly, and I squeezed. “I’m ready.” I remembered his phone when he reached for the hallway door. “Wait, what did you text before? To make the reporters react like that?”

A smooth low chuckle was my reward as he opened the door. “I had Cal send a credible anonymous tip that we were seen at the train station.”

The train station?

But it didn’t matter.

Kian opened the door, and he pulled me right behind him. When we got to my apartment, it was my turn. I sent a small prayer up that Erica hadn’t changed the locks in the last few hours, and was rewarded when my key went in, unlocking the door.

She hadn’t.

Two major roadblocks down. One more to go.

I would have to wake up Erica without causing—

As we slipped inside, she was up and at the patio door. The curtains were pulled, but she was peeking out. When she heard the door open, she twisted around, and a bloodcurdling scream came out of her throat.

Kian reacted before me.

He rushed forward, clamping a hand over her mouth. His other hand caught the back of her head, holding her in place so that she wouldn’t fall backward from the sudden pressure against her face. As he quieted her, I shut the door and locked it. I rushed to her.

Her eyes were wide and straining, looking up at Kian, but they got even bigger when I came over. Her eyes were glued to my sweatshirt’s hood, and I realized she didn’t know who we were. I was lifting a finger to my mouth, about to tell her, when another problem happened.

Two doors opened at the same time, and two more bodies hurled themselves into the living room. Wanker came from Erica’s room. Jake came from mine. He stopped and took in the scene in one second, his gaze skimming over me and landing on Kian, who was still holding Erica. A snarl formed over Jake’s mouth.

I saw it happening and tried to stop Jake. I held my hands in the air and stepped toward him. “No, Jake—”

“Get away from her!” He lunged at Kian and started to shove him against the wall.

Kian reversed the hold. He stepped aside, letting Jake’s body move past him, and then Jake slammed into the wall instead. He was stunned for a moment.

I raised my voice. “Stop! It’s me.”

They all turned to me.

No one reacted.

I cursed. It was my disguise. Ripping off my sunglasses, I pulled the cap and hood from my head and let them see me. “It’s me. It’s Jo.”

I turned around, my arms held out, so all of them could see me. Wanker was still standing in Erica’s doorway.

“Holy—” Erica started.

Jake finished for her, “Fuck.” He glared at Kian in silence, still being held up against the wall.

I said to Kian, “He’s fine. Let him go.”

He stepped back. His hand loosened its hold on Jake, and as it started to fall away, Jake shoved it away, snorting.

“So, this is Kian Maston.” He looked Kian up and down, his snarl returning to his mouth. “The infamous murderer. Great to meet you.”

I ignored Jake, and so did everyone else.

Instead, I looked back at Erica. When she realized it was me, hurt flashed in her eyes before she lowered her head.

“Erica?” I stepped toward her.

Her head snapped back up. “Stay away from me.” She was seething.

“Erica,” I started again.

“Get out.” She pointed to the door. “A team of federal agents took all your stuff. There’s nothing left for you here. Go.”

I moved forward a second step. I wasn’t going anywhere. “You’re here. My friends are here.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her nostrils flared. “The friends who you ran from.” She threw a dark look in Kian’s direction and said, “And the ones he came to save you from. Yeah, your friends, huh?”

Kian took off his sunglasses, cap, and hood as well. “I didn’t come to take her from you. I came to get her away from the media.”

The hostility level in her gaze dimmed just a bit, but she bit back, “I am the media.”

“Not anymore.” Kian pointed out the windows. “You’re the story.”

Erica’s lips flattened together. She didn’t have a response to that.

I looked at all of them. “I’m sorry I ran from the party. The media made my life hell, and I’m sorry that I had to keep—”

An alert from Jake’s phone went off. He checked it, hit a button on his phone, and stuffed it back into his pocket. He said to Erica, “It was her again.”

Erica cursed under her breath, raking her hands through her hair. “She won’t leave it alone.”

“Who?” I asked, my head skirting from Jake to Erica and back again. “Who texted you just now?”