“Price to security team, everyone stay out of the study,” the Alpha lead orders through comms, the lake house abruptly packed with all three famous families. While Maximoff is outside with his parents and uncles, I hit the basement gym.

Four bodyguards from Security Force Alpha are working out, all of which I ignore. Because I hate side-eyes just as much as I hate cliques. And they’re side-eyeing the fuck out of me since I broke their golden rule about sleeping with a client.

Akara is the only one from Omega here, and while I do my twentieth pull-up, sweat suctioning my black shirt to my abs, he kicks a boxing bag in quick spurts.

“What’s happenin’ in the study?” Donnelly asks through comms.

Price’s voice booms in my earpiece. “Jane and her mom are talking.”

On the weight bench, an older bodyguard says, “I heard them crying.” And then he side-eyes me again.

I make eye contact, and he diverts his gaze and grumbles something under his breath. That’s what I thought. I grit down and lift my chin above the bar, ankles crossed.

Akara kicks the bag hard. “I looked at the Instagram account you sent me.”

I drop and take off my hand wraps. See, typically I wouldn’t even bring this to a lead of any Force, but the @maximoffdeadhale account is still active, and the user posted another photoshopped picture about a half hour ago.

This time, Maximoff is falling off the side of a mountain.

Akara wipes sweat off his brow with his bicep. “It’s a troll account.”

“That’s what I thought.” I pop the cap off my water bottle. “But no tabloid has run a story about the Hales heading to their mountain lake house, so why would the user post a picture where he’s falling off the side of one?”

Akara snaps his finger to his palm. “Coincidence.”

“There’s a chance the user could know Maximoff personally.” I swig my water, and my gaze narrows as Akara gives me a pitying look. “It has nothing to do with him being my boyfriend. I’m still his bodyguard, and as his bodyguard, this shit isn’t flying with me.”

Akara picks up his towel. “I’ll send in a request for our tech team to trace the IP address. Until then, don’t check that account.” His voice is strict. “That’s not friendly advice; that’s an order.”

I roll my eyes. “Aye aye, captain.” My phone rings in the pocket of my track pants. Caller ID: Kinney Hale. Maximoff’s thirteen-year-old sister almost never calls me. I answer, “Hey?”

“We need you now. Don’t tell anyone. Hall bathroom near the kitchen. Be fast or die.” She hangs up.

* * *

I kick the bathroom door closed, and Kinney bombards me, green eyes shadowed in heavy black liner, dressed in knee-high socks, a black skirt and top, and a choker necklace. She puffs out her chest, but her bony build makes her appear comically tiny.

“We have problems,” she snaps.

I raise my brows. “No shit.”

“Real problems, you turd.” She crosses her lanky arms. “You need to drive us somewhere.”

“No,” I say and unpeel a piece of gum. Stepping past Kinney, I discover the “we” here.

By the toilet, Luna runs in place and then shimmies her arms and hips. I’m positive she’s dancing to no music, and if I should question the weirdness in that act, I don’t.

Kinney confronts me head-on. “We’re your boyfriend’s siblings.”

I pop my gum and notice Xander lounging in a claw-foot tub.

He pulls his bulky red headphones to the collar of his Winter is Coming shirt. “Save your breath, Kinney. He doesn’t give a damn—”

“Wow.” I slowly chew. “You really believe I don’t care when I’m here, entertaining a fragmented phone call that said absolutely nothing.”

He slumps further down the tub and lifts his headphones to his ears. “I think you’d rather bang my brother.”

My jaw muscle tics, but I lean casually on the granite counter. I didn’t imagine that dating Maximoff would affect his relationship with his brother, and I’m not happy about this at all.

“He didn’t mean it,” Luna says, panting as she runs in place.

Xander tugs down his headphones again. “Yeah, I did.”

I unpocket my phone to text Maximoff. “Your brother’s been trying to get ahold of you.”

Xander sits up, elbows on the lip of the tub. “He could’ve convinced someone to keep Thatcher on my security detail, but no, he wanted to fuck his bodyguard, and now I lost mine so you two could have a stupid chaperone.”

He’s fourteen-going-on-fifteen. He’s upset. I’m not about to tear into the kid, but I’m fucking irritated that he keeps referring to me as his brother’s fuck-buddy.

I loosely cross my arms. “If you think your brother would risk everything just to ‘fuck his bodyguard’—” I use air quotes “—then you don’t know him that well.”

His gaze hits the floor.

“Man, if Maximoff or I had the power to return Thatcher Moretti to you, we would in a fucking heartbeat. I want him around me like I want gangrene and a root canal.”

I recognize that Thatcher voted for me to remain Maximoff’s bodyguard, but I can’t even feign obedience. I’m not accustomed to being indebted to anyone either. I’d rather buy him a bottle of booze and call it even, but knowing Thatcher, he’ll want my firstborn and my coronary artery.

Xander mutters under his breath, “Moffy could’ve made it happen if he wanted to. He can do anything.”

I’m fucking glad Maximoff isn’t here. If he heard that, guilt and pressure would crush his shoulders. Then he’d make himself sick trying to fix this for his little brother, but he has no power over the Tri-Force.

Security switches happen, and Xander has to accept that Thatcher isn’t his bodyguard anymore.

“He can’t do everything,” I tell Xander. “Right now, he doesn’t even have a license.”

Xander gives me a weird look. “Shouldn’t you be his number one supporter? You’re dating him.”

He didn’t say “fucking” him. Getting better. “And I’m not overestimating his abilities and putting him in a shit bind. I call that…” I start to text Maximoff. “…love.”

Kinney lunges to steal my phone. Reflexes quick, I raise my cell in the air and then put a hand on her forehead. I use minimal strength to keep her back.

“You can’t tell anyone we’re here,” she sneers and flails for the phone.

“I’m texting your brother.”

Her thrashing ends, and she suddenly acts blasé and uncaring, sitting on the tub ledge. “Fine. He can join. As long as we leave soon.” She rolls her eyes at me. “God, stop looking at me like I’m a moron. I know things.”

I pop my gum and smile before texting: Come to the hall bathroom by the kitchen when you can. Xander is here with your sisters. I tuck my phone in the back pocket of my track pants and then swivel the volume of my radio.

“Wherever you need me to take you three,” I say, “I’ll need to call your bodyguards to join—”

“Uh-uh, no,” Luna pants, swinging her arms left and right in a retro dance move. “Just us, Farrow.”

I rest an elbow on the sink. “I can’t, Luna.”

“Excuse me.” Kinney gawks. “You’re a rule-breaker. Break the rules.”

I’m not a fan of Epsilon, but the guys in SFE will want my head on a platter if I take three of their clients on a joy ride to fuck-knows-where without them.

I shake my head. “I bend rules for the benefit of my client and his privacy. You three aren’t my clients—”

“But my bodyguard is a nark,” Kinney says. “Luna’s bodyguard is a bigger nark, and Xander’s bodyguard—”

“—is cool,” Xander interjects, “but Banks will tell Thatcher, who’ll tell—”

“I’ll stop you there,” I say, my brows spiked. “That’s the definition of a nark.”

“Banks and Thatcher are still cooler than you.”

My smile stretches. “That must be why you asked them here instead of me.”

“Burn,” Kinney deadpans.

Xander flips his sister off before putting his headphones back on.

Luna twirls in a circle. “Can’t you poach some trustworthy bodyguards from SFO, then?”

“That’s not how the security team works.” If I asked to bring Oscar with me over Luna’s bodyguard, J.P. would act like I nail-gunned his feet to the floor. I watch Luna spin six more times, and my concern elevates. “How serious is this?”

She blows out a breath. “To be determined, but it’s not looking great…”

It’s about Luna, I deduce. “Okay. If you need something, I can go alone—”

A knock pounds the door.

I let Maximoff inside. He’s still wearing his wet Patagonia jacket. Our gazes latch for a strong second, and then I lock the door while he skims his siblings.

“What’s going on?” He nears his brother.

Xander lowers his headphones to his neck again.

“Hey.” Maximoff has this empathetic expression that screams, I care. I care. I love you. “I’ve been trying to reach—”

“I know.” Xander climbs out of the tub and clasps his older brother’s hand. Maximoff brings Xander into his chest, and they hug.

Out of the corner of his eye, Xander sends me a pleading look. As though saying, don’t tell him I was upset.

Unless Maximoff asks, I won’t bring it up. They pull apart, and Maximoff says to his brother, “I heard you got your door back at home.”

Xander shrugs. “I only lost it for a day.”

Maximoff told me that Xander has a no locking doors rule. Whenever he breaks it, their dad takes the door off its hinges.

I prop the back of my boot on the cupboard, knee bent, and I watch Luna run in place for the third time. I don’t ask because I’m about 99.9% sure Maximoff will.

He breaks focus from his little brother and zeroes in on Luna with a hardened gaze. “What the hell are you doing?”

She pants, “I read on Celebrity Crush that if you dance a lot, you can possibly, maybe, somewhat make your period appear.”

Shit.

Silence hangs heavy.

“You missed your period?” he asks, voice firm. He taps into big brother mode with ease, his body rigid, and he shoots me a glare. As though I didn’t inform him of the scenario where his eighteen-year-old sister may be pregnant.

“I didn’t know,” I say, and then I look at Luna. “You can’t make your period appear by dancing, but nice try.”

Kinney scoffs. “You’re a guy. You know nothing about periods or the female anatomy. You haven’t even touched a vagina.”

“Kinney,” Maximoff growls.

My mouth curves upward. Because it’s cute when he defends me, but I can handle this shit. “I graduated medical school,” I tell her, “but I don’t need an MD or a high school diploma to know that medical advice from Celebrity Crush isn’t accurate or even good advice. It’s just bullshit.”

“That’s what I said,” Xander says, taking a seat on the tub ledge next to Kinney. “I mean, it’s the same tabloid that rumored Jane and Moffy to be—”

“Too soon,” Maximoff cuts him off and then hones in on Luna again. “How? When? Where? Why?”

Luna falls flat to her feet and tugs at the sleeves of her baggy star-printed sweater. “Sex. Last day of school before winter break. In the back of his car. Because I was digging him.” Her amber eyes ping from me to her older brother. “I’m only a few weeks late, and I know I screwed up already because of school. Mom and Dad can’t know about this. Not until I figure out if it’s real.”

Before Maximoff even knew, I heard from the security team that Dalton Academy said Luna has to be homeschooled for the remainder of the school year—or else she won’t graduate on time.

Luna places her hands on her head. “Maybe I can go on tour with you.”

“Me too.” Kinney stands.

Maximoff pushes Kinney back down until she sits. “No, and no.” His muscles contract, and he gestures to Luna. “Did he not wear a condom?”

“I didn’t think about it.” She twists a piece of light brown hair around her finger. “It was my first time, and I thought the probability was low.”

I rub my temple, almost cringing.

“Jesus Christ,” Maximoff mutters. “Our mom is a sex addict, Luna. You should know better.”

She looks to me for an out, but she forgets that I’m a hardass too.

“You should’ve listened in sex ed.”

“Lay off her, you turds,” Kinney says.

“Stop, Kinney,” Maximoff says harshly.

Luna swings her head to Xander. “I told you I should’ve asked Tom and Eliot for help.”

Xander stands. “They may be your best friends, but they would’ve told all the Cobalts, Luna. Moffy and Farrow are going to fix this. Right?” In unison, all three of them rotate and set their gazes on me and Maximoff.

I’m still casually leaning on the sink. Maximoff stands like he’s currently supporting the world on his shoulders.

And I already understand why they called me here in the first place. I tell Maximoff, “Luna needs a pregnancy test.”

Kinney steps forward. “Farrow is taking us to the convenience store.”

“No, I’m going alone,” I say.

“I’m coming with you,” Maximoff rebuts.

Always stubborn. “You’re staying in the car.” If someone catches him buying a pregnancy test, he’ll stoke the rumor he’s trying to extinguish.

“We’ll talk about it on the way there.”

I roll my eyes, but this isn’t an argument I need to win right now. Especially in front of his three siblings. “Let’s go, wolf scout.”