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have time to shift into park when a third set of headlights are in the rearview mirror. Glaring, I make out the silhouette of a sleek, blue muscle-car that I hate I can recognize.

Ricky.

Of-fucking-course.

Doesn’t surprise me that he showed up, but that doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. He gives off a vibe when it comes to Southside. Like he thinks he’s the only one who can protect her. Chances are he saw Pandora’s update just like the rest of us, but damn. What part of ‘she’s moved on’ doesn’t this asshole understand?

If she needs anything from anyone, ever, I’ve got that shit covered.

Cursing under my breath, I step out onto the street. Ricky does the same, shrugging into a dark leather jacket as he cuts a look toward me. Pretty sure our thoughts are the same when our gazes lock—fuck this guy.

In the brief second when his interior light flashes on, I see he’s got Shane and Scarlett in the back. My brothers and Joss crunch snow beneath their boots as they move in closer, and Ricky’s half a step behind. He waits at the foot of the steps, keeping his distance while I bang on the security door with my fist.

There’s unspoken tension when it comes to him and me. It’s the reason I know this false sense of civility between us won’t last. Why? Because he’ll eventually open his damn mouth and say some shit that’ll set me off.

Always does.

“Guess everything I said to you went in one ear and out the other,” he grumbles.

Here we fucking go.

I glance over my shoulder and the hateful glare set on me shouldn’t be surprising.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I ask with gritted teeth because… Why the fuck is he here?!?!

Shaking his head, he scoffs. Like something I just said is unbelievable to him.

“I told your ass to back the fuck off, but let me guess what happened. You wanted her, right? So bad that you willingly put her dead in the center of your daddy’s crosshairs.”

I turn and face him completely now, hating that every time I look into this motherfucker’s eyes, I see it. Everything he feels for her. He wears that shit right on his damn sleeve, out in the open for me and everyone else to see. He’s damn-near arrogant when it comes to loving her. So, if I haven’t said it yet… Fuck. Ricky. Ruiz.

Fuck him.

“Why don’t I—”

“West,” Sterling cuts in with a stern glare. “We don’t have time for this shit. Stay focused.”

My fists tighten. I know he’s right, but it’s high time I put Ricky in his place. However, a second glare—from Dane this time—halts me. His eyes are saying the same as Sterling’s—Let it go. For now, anyway.

One deep breath later—and a promise to myself that I can deal with Ricky’s ass when there’s less going on—I manage to turn around and let the conversation die. Problem is, Ricky doesn’t seem to have the same idea. As soon as I decide to be the bigger man, he starts running his mouth again and something about this dickhead sets my nerves on edge, making ignoring him virtually impossible.

“All I have to say is, let me find out your punk-ass daddy did or said some shit that’s got Blue messed up, and I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what, bitch?” I’m down the steps in less than a second, right in his face, going over the thousands of reasons I have to knock his ass out cold. Unlike everyone else in his hood, I’m not scared of him.

“This ain’t what you want, rich boy. Trust me. Especially not tonight,” he warns.

Only, he’s wrong about that. This is exactly what I want—a chance to finish what we started when he showed up outside the fieldhouse. My chest slams his when I step closer, and he pushes back. It isn’t until Joss’s small frame wedges between us, putting a bit of distance where there was none, that I come to my senses again.

“Soooo… I vote we all just calm down and remember that we’re here to see about Blue,” she chimes in, placing one hand on Ricky’s chest and the other on mine.

I haven’t lost sight of why we’re here, but as usual when it comes to him, I’m seeing red, wondering what the hell Southside ever saw in a hothead like him. Then, it hits me. Probably the same shit she sees in me—crazy that matches her own.

I back off and start toward the door again, deciding to knock for a second time. Honestly, all I want is to get in there and see that she’s okay. I didn’t come here for Ricky or his bullshit. However, when he pushes past, shoulder-checking me in the process, he tests my patience once again. But nothing sets my nerves on fire like seeing him pull a set of keys from his pocket. And it isn’t until he slides one into the lock that I accept it.

This asshole has a fucking key.

To my girl’s house.

I take a step toward him, deciding that tonight—right here and now—is the night Ricky Ruiz loses all his teeth, but three sets of hands grab me backward.

“This isn’t the time,” Sterling repeats quietly near my ear.

Seething, my gaze snaps to the right and I catch his. He shakes his head, urging me not to do whatever I had in mind, knowing this shit is eating away at me.

“Focus on Southside,” he adds quietly.

The statement is short, but it reminds me that being here has nothing to do with the ex who can’t seem to learn his fucking place. Hell, it doesn’t even have anything to do with me. The only person who’s important right now is her.

I hold my tongue when the key fucking works, solidifying my hatred for this prick as the front door swings open. Then, with the flip of a switch, the living room brightens from the light of a single lamp on the end table. There’s absolutely no sound

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