Page 23 of Roundabout

I quickly pluck Beck’s phone from his hand before any blows can get thrown. They can tear each other’s heads off for all I care. I just want to know where Angela is.

“Relax. I already told you, I don’t actually check up on anyone. It’s just in case shit ever goes down.”

Beck tries to rub Marc’s nose with his but Marc shoves his jaw away from him, mumbling something about our friend being an asshole.

Yeah, no shit. An asshole who occasionally has his moments.

“Either of you know where this is?” I ask, glaring at the unfamiliar address. Is it a house? I swear to fucking God…

Beck shuffles over for a closer look first. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“That’s my dad’s office.”

“What does that mean? Why is she at your dad’s, Beck?”

“Well… Look, where’s Jace, man?”

My head’s already rotating on its fucking hinges. No. No. That’s not even… She wouldn’t. She wouldn’t try to take Jace from me. Jace is my family. Our family.

A family I thought Angela was the center of.

“He’s with Bentlee today. Wasn’t Bentlee at home when you left?” I ask Marc, my chest feeling like it’s being loaded with weights. Twenty pounds. Thirty.

“She was, yeah. Want me to check with her?”

“Found Lee-Lee,” Beck says, making Marc growl but also lean in at the same time.

“She’s…” Beck stops to look up at me. “I can’t be sure ’cause she’s not coming from the canyon, but it looks like she’s headed in the direction of my dad’s office.”

Forty. Forty fucking pounds and my ribs are about to crack from the pressure. I’m about to crack from the pressure.

This can’t be happening.

“Marc.”

“She wouldn’t fucking dare,” he pledges, gripping my shoulder.

“But…she is. It fucking shows it right here.” I tap Beck’s screen with the tiny picture of Bentlee’s face moving along the road.

“We don’t know that. Goddamn it.” He rips the phone from my hand, saying, “That’s why this shit’s dangerous. We’re jumping to conclusions before we know anything.”

“Or we’re saving our friend from losing his kid.” Beck goes over to grab his helmet off his work bench.

“How are we doing that? If Angela’s got your dad helping her…”

Marc doesn’t need to finish his sentence. We all know my chances going against Beck’s dad. Marshall Meyers is the best family attorney in the area. He’s been helping our family win custody battles for years. He mopped the fucking floor with both Shawnathon and Chaz.

I can’t even believe Marshall would take Angela on as a client. Isn’t there some kind of conflict of interest here? I’m not close to Marshall but Beck’s practically my brother. Marc, Beck, and I have been best friends since we were kids, riding together, living together, growing together.

Together.

“By being faster,” floats past my lips. Together, the three of us are faster. We’ve always worked better as a unit.

“Than who? B’s dad? We don’t know the first thing about filing court documents.”

“No, Lee-Lee,” Beck tells him while looking at me. “We just have to get to her before she gets to Angie.”