“Fallon’s home,” Dakota breathes. I keep my eyes on my little brother, whose entire body has gone rigid. “She still staying at your place, or is she sleeping in her car?” I ask Dakota. Ever since her kidnapping, Fallon has avoided her cottage in town. Fuck. It’s the wrong thing to say. Dakota’s eyes fill with tears. Davis whips his head to me and glares before cupping his wife’s shoulder. “Make sure she comes to the house.” Wyatt shoves out of his chair, his face suddenly soft and bordering on desperate. “I’ll go with you.” Together, he and Dakota disappear out the door. “Ask Reese to dinner,”
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