Page 28 of Roundabout

“Angela, why do they think you’re here?”

I wrack my brain before saying, “I don’t even know how they knew I was here.”

“Probably the GPS Beckett snuck on everybody’s phones.”

Bentlee and I both gape at Paige, making her laugh again. I didn’t approve sharing my location with Beckett, only Bentlee and Paige. How the hell did he manage that?

Removing his black helmet, Coty dismounts his bike first, immediately setting his accusatory glare on me.

Ty could’ve just as easily told Coty the same thing he told Paige, and I have no doubt if Beckett knew where I was, he’d offer the information up to his best friend without hesitation. Marc would get involved, because when isn’t he? But, if that’s true, why do they seem…mad?

“Girl, what did you do?”

The three of us look from one to the other, each pair of eyes more anxious than the last.

“What I had to.”

“I know that feeling.”

“We all do,” Paige agrees with Bentlee. “It’s been ingrained in our chemical makeup since the moment we became mothers.” Facing the men now stalking toward us, she steps in front of me and sighs. “This is gonna suck.”

“What is?”

Bentlee’s the one who answers me as she positions herself shoulder to shoulder with Paige. “Going against our husbands.”

“I can handle them myself.”

“We know you can, but you shouldn’t have to all the time,” Bentlee says without taking her eyes off the approaching men. “You stand up for everybody else, including us, despite the odds. Let us stand up for you for once.”

The backs of their heads distort in front of me and I try to wipe at my eyes again as inconspicuously as I can.

Once the men have shortened the distance between their trio and ours, Paige calls out, “That’s far enough, boys!”

Beckett’s steps falter. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Not at all, baby. I need you to stay where you are.”

“Why?”

Bentlee answers him though, explaining, “Because my husband’s wearing his worst scowl, the one he uses when heads are about to roll, and we don’t want anybody losing their head today, especially not one of ours.”

Between the girls’ shoulders, I catch a peek of Marc’s murderous expression. Which isn’t all that uncommon for him to have, but him aiming it at me is.

“What are you doing, Bentlee?” her glowering husband asks.

“Same thing you’re doing I imagine.”

“You’re sticking up for her?”

The way he says “her” twists my insides because while it’s obvious he means me, his reason isn’t.

“You know how it goes.” His wife sticks her hands in her pockets and rocks back on her heels. “Family first.”

“Always,” Paige finishes.

Hands out wide, Beckett bursts, “We’re fucking family, dream!”

“So is Angela.”