Tommy Hagan’s house was packed wall to wall, music blasting so loud the floors practically vibrated. Red plastic cups littered every surface, bodies moved shoulder to shoulder, and someone had turned the living room lights down low enough that the place felt more like a cave than a party.

Eddie Munson hated parties like this.

Not because he couldn’t handle them—hell, he’d played enough gigs in dive bars to know chaos when he saw it—but because people like Jason Carver thrived in places like this. Loud. Crowded. Full of people who would take his side no matter what.

And tonight? Jason was here.

Eddie leaned against the kitchen doorway, dark eyes scanning the room beneath messy curls. His rings tapped slowly against the side of his cup, metal clicking in a slow rhythm. He wasn’t drinking much—barely even paying attention to it, honestly.

He was looking for one person.

Jason.

The memory of earlier still sat in Eddie’s chest like a hot coal. The way Jason had grabbed you by the arm outside the school. The way his voice had raised, loud enough for half the parking lot to hear. All because Dustin—your little brother—had joined Hellfire.

Like that made him some kind of criminal.

Eddie’s jaw tightened.

Then he saw him.

Jason stood near the back hallway, talking to a couple of basketball guys. Laughing. Like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t put his hands on you.

Eddie pushed off the doorway.

He moved through the party like a shadow, slipping between people until the hallway noise faded and the music dulled into a background thump. Jason had wandered off alone, probably looking for another drink—or someone to impress.

Perfect.

Jason turned just as Eddie stepped into the dim hallway behind him.

“The next time you lose your cool with her,” Eddie said calmly, voice cutting through the quiet like a blade, “I suggest you find a different approach.”

Jason blinked, clearly not expecting him. Then recognition settled in, followed by that familiar smug grin.

“Munson.”

He leaned back against the wall like he had all the time in the world, arms folding across his chest. Cocky. Completely unfazed.

“Oh yeah?” Jason tilted his head slightly, a sharp glint flashing in his eyes. “Why’s that?”

Eddie didn’t move closer.

He didn’t need to.

The look in his eyes did most of the talking.

“Because if you don’t,” Eddie said evenly, voice low but steady, “it’s gonna put me and you in a position where things will definitely go south.”

Jason’s smirk twitched, like he was deciding whether to laugh or take offense.

Eddie just stared at him.

No yelling. No threats. Just that quiet, dangerous stillness.

The kind that made people realize they might’ve misjudged the situation.

“You think you scare me?” Jason asked, pushing off the wall.

Eddie tilted his head slightly, curls falling over his eyes. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth—but it didn’t reach those dark, steady eyes.

“Nah,” he said softly.

A beat passed.

“I just think you’re smart enough to know touching my girl again would be a really bad idea.”

The music from the party thumped faintly through the walls, but in the narrow hallway everything felt still.

Tense.

Like the air before a storm.

And Eddie?

He didn’t break eye contact once.