My phone buzzed once.

No words. Just her location dropped like a scream in my hand.

I don’t even lock the door behind me. I’m already in the car, engine roaring like it knows this isn’t a casual drive. This is war.

She doesn’t call unless it’s bad. She doesn’t not speak unless something’s really wrong.

Red lights mean nothing. I blow through them like the laws never applied to me in the first place. My hands are white-knuckled on the wheel, jaw clenched so tight it aches.

If someone touched her-

If someone hurt her—

They don’t know who the fuck they just invited into the story.

I’ll burn the whole goddamn city to get to her.

I tear into the lot like I own the place, tires screaming as I cut the wheel and kill the engine in one motion. I’m out before the car settles, already scanning—fists clenched, heart trying to punch through my ribs.

Where is she?

The streetlights flicker like they’re about to go out. Music spills from the house nearby—too loud, too fake. Laughter, screaming. Some kid stumbles out the front door like it’s all just a game.

Not for her. Never for her.

Then I see her.

Back against the fence. Arms crossed. She’s alone. But her eyes—her eyes find me fast, like she knew I’d come. She doesn’t run to me, doesn’t cry, but I see it—the tremble in her jaw. Something happened.

I’m at her side in seconds.

“Who was it?” My voice is low. Deadly.

She shakes her head. “I’m fine.”

That’s a lie. She’s not fine. Her hands are shaking. She’s wearing that sweatshirt I gave her, sleeves pulled down like armor.

“Tell me. Now.”

Silence.

Then a name.

That’s all I need.

My knuckles crack. My world narrows to that one word, that one face, that one target.

She grabs my arm. “Will, don’t.”

Too late.

I’m already walking