Fake (Madison Kate #3) - Tate James Page 0,35

of his shoulder and neck strained painfully against Kody's arm bar.

"Maddie!" Scott shouted at me, and I swallowed a sigh. "Maddie, what the fuck? Are you going to just let him do this?"

Kody snorted a laugh, giving me a look that seemed to say, What the fuck are you doing with this asshole? Twisting Scott’s hand until the weaker man screamed in pain, he ordered, "Quit calling her that. She hates being called that."

My brows shot up. How the fuck did he know that?

Regardless, I sighed and crouched down to look at Scott. I was still in my lingerie from the shoot, my designer shoes with their spoked heels wobbling slightly on the uneven ground. Thank fuck for Kody's jacket or I'd be turning hypothermic.

"Scott, what the hell are you even doing here?" I asked the more important question. Fuck the macho, posturing bullshit between boys, I wanted to shift the cold chill of fear chasing through me. "How'd you know where I was?"

Kody didn't let up, and Scott made a furious, pained sound. The crunch of boots on gravel alerted me to Archer joining the party, but I didn't acknowledge him.

"You told me," Scott replied, sounding all kinds of furious even through the blood of his broken nose. Or hell, maybe it wasn't broken. Maybe it was just badly bent. "On the phone earlier."

I frowned, meeting Kody's eyes. He'd heard my call with Scott, so he could verify. His head shake confirmed what I thought.

"No, I didn't." I was one hundred percent confident that I hadn't. The guys hadn't even told me where we were going while I was in the car and on the phone with Scott. So he was lying.

But why?

Scott didn't respond for a moment, and Archer's boot slowly came down on one of Scott's hands where it lay flat on the ground.

"How'd you know where to find her, Scottie?" Archer asked in a dark growl. It was the type of voice that promised a long, drawn-out, and painful death if he didn't get the answers he wanted. It sent a hard shudder through me, and I bit my cheek to keep from showing my reaction.

Scott got a stubborn look in his eyes, and I lost my temper.

"Hey," I said, snapping my fingers in front of his face. "Answer the question. How'd you know where I was? Were you following me?"

Scott's eyes widened. "What? No! No, I wasn't... Ugh, I just didn't want to..." His words trailed off in a mumble, and Archer's boot ground his hand into the gravel, drawing a short scream of pain from Scott.

"Speak up," Archer ordered, and Kody snickered a laugh. Shithead.

"I didn't want to get Bree in trouble!" Scott shouted, looking up at me in accusation like it was somehow my fault he was admitting this.

My mood soured even further. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Scott? What does Bree have to do with anything?"

"Find My Phone," he blurted out when Kody tightened his grip on Scott's arm. "Your phone is still on Bree's account. I asked her to use Find My Phone and tell me where you were."

Chills raced down my spine, and I looked up to see what the guys’ reaction was to that information. Kody was scowling. Archer just met my gaze with no expression, and that told me what I needed to know. It was up to me what we did from here.

I let out a long breath. "Scott, why would you do that?"

"I was worried," he replied quickly. "You sounded off on the phone, and I was worried about you. So I just asked Bree to track your phone and drove over to make sure you were okay. Clearly, I was right to be worried. What the fuck was this asshole doing with his hands all over you?"

The tension headache building behind my eyes was growing intense, and my temper was getting short. "Let him go," I told Kody, rising back to my feet with a heavy sigh. I pinched the bridge of my nose and took a couple of calming breaths as the guys slowly released my friend.

When Scott scrambled to his feet and made a threatening gesture toward Kody, I lost my temper.

"Scott, stop." My voice was like a metal-tipped whip. "Just fucking stop."

He did as I said, thank fuck. I doubted I could pull Kody off him a second time. Or Archer, for that matter. No matter what our fucked up baggage was, he was still protective as fuck. He

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