to let Dallas in when he arrived because I hadn't saved the new security team’s numbers yet.
"I'll order food now too," I told them. "So you've probably got another half an hour or so, alright?" I eyed their bare chests, slick with perspiration, and mentally high-fived myself. Fuck yeah, my guys were gorgeous.
Kody clapped his hands sharply. "You heard her! Half an hour and I want to see you push it." His voice was like the crack of a whip, but he shot me a cheeky wink as he turned the music back on.
Laughing to myself, I went back to the kitchen to take another painkiller. Just as I washed it down, a heavy knock sounded on the front door. Apparently Dallas's five minutes was really three.
Padding back to the foyer, I opened the heavy front door with a smile to greet my friend. Then froze.
"Maddie," Scott said, his bruised face tight with anger. "I heard your keepers have been looking for me. Well, here I am."
I stepped back, trying to slam the door shut in his face, but he jammed his foot in the gap. One heavy shove sent me staggering back a couple of steps, and Scott entered the foyer, closing the door behind him.
"Guys!" I shouted, "Guys! Scott's here!"
But the only response I got was the thumping sound of their music as Kody pushed them through a thirty-minute power session. Fuck.
I darted to the side, intending to run for help, but Scott moved faster than I'd realized he could, snatching a handful of my hair and wrenching me back to him.
"Maddie, stop it!" he snapped, giving me a rough shake like that would somehow make me more amenable to what he wanted. "Stop this! You're acting like I'm some crazy person. I'm not! All I've ever done is try to protect you, and this is the thanks I get? You put out a notice to detain me for your psychotic boyfriends to kill? What the fuck, Maddie?"
Fury rushed through me in waves, and my teeth clenched together hard. "Let me go, Scott," I ordered him, my voice a low growl. "Let me the fuck go. You don't wanna be labeled a crazy person? Don't fucking force your way into my house and hurt me!"
His grip loosened a fraction, and I thought I'd succeeded. But then it tightened again, and he gave a low, bitter laugh. "Oh yeah, I'm really going to let you go so you can run off to those criminals before I can explain things to you."
Frustration made my eyes burn, and I reached down to my pants to find my knife. Fuck this. Seriously.
"Scott, no offense, but I don't wanna hear your bullshit explanations," I told him. In a smooth, practiced motion, I pulled my knife out of my pocket, flicked it open, then sliced it across his wrist holding my hair.
He let out a shout, releasing my hair and giving me an opportunity to jerk free. But now I had my back to the wall and Scott was blocking the hallway to the gym. If I wanted to get help, I needed to get past him first.
My blade out in front of me, I eyed him carefully. His hand was clasped to his wrist where I'd cut him, bright blood staining his skin, but I knew it hadn't been a deep cut. He knew it too because a second later he started laughing.
"Seriously?" he challenged me, looking at my knife with a mocking smile. "You're going to threaten me with that pathetic little blade? It's so pretty; did it come as a bonus accessory in your Barbie Dreamhouse?" He was snickering at his own joke, but adrenaline, fear, and determination flooded my blood.
Two side steps took me to the hall table with a huge arrangement of flowers, and a second later, I had Steele's backup gun in my hand and pointed at Scott's head.
"How about now, Scott? Does this work for you?" My voice was cold and calm. I barely even recognized it as mine, but my hand remained steady too.
Scott's eyes narrowed, flashing with raw hatred and anger, and his mouth twisted in an ugly sneer. "You're not going to shoot me, Maddie. I bet you don't even know how to fire that thing. Girls like you, Maddie, are only good for one thing. Apparently your three keepers already worked that out for themselves, huh?"
My stomach clenched, but that cold calm was spreading over my whole body now. "Slut-shaming. Real original."