Maverick steps closer. He crowds my space, eyes holding mine. “Did he lay a finger on you?” “What?” Hudson asks from my left. “Who put a finger on her?” “Someone hurt Emmy?” Ethan pulls off his gloves. “Who the fuck was it?” “Hell, no. We ride at fucking dawn!” Grant yells, and Seymour pats his shoulder. “Maybe we ride in the next ten minutes, G.” “My ex who I played with in the ECHL. He moved to the AHL, and the Wildebeests called him up to play tonight,” I rush out, telling them all the truth.
