I slid a hand down my face and sighed softly. "The masked guy. I call him Dookey."

Thane quirked a brow. "Why do you call him Dookey?"

I rolled my eyes. "Because he is one large, gross, vomit-worthy dookey stain. Duh."

Wasn't it obvious?

Number Four just let out a sigh of disappointment. "You're coming back with us."

Noises of agreement came from the rest of them, but I was having none of it.

"Oh, yes. Well, of course. And while you're at it, why don't you haul me up on your massive shoulders like the knuckle-dragging Neanderthal you seem to be. Isn't that what you do to us damsels in distress? Drag us off to your cave somewhere, lock us up and smother us back to health because we are such simple creatures we cannot do it ourselves?"

Number Four took a step toward me, about to argue. He didn't know I was more stubborn than he was.

"Don't. It's my turn to talk. I can tell by the 'someone urinated in my breakfast cereal' expression that seems frozen in place that you're used to people listening to you. You give orders and no one questions them. But here's the thing, GI Joe, I'm not one of the gophers who would wipe your leather cheerio without question. I just met you, and the rest of you I've known for one day. You do NOT get carte blanche in my life.

"Now I have had a very bad day. I need a shower, my jammies and all the wine in the house to deal with this today. Either get out of my way, or I will kick your goody bag so hard you'll be seeing nothing but nougat for the foreseeable future."

Everything was silent. Four was staring at me as if I were some mythical creature he was trying to dissect. The rest were keeping a cautious eye on Four.

"It's fine, Tripp. I'll check her out and make sure she's okay." Trey, the ever sensible one, it seems, placed a hand on Tripp's shoulder. Trey's eyes stayed on me, though. "If that is acceptable for the distressed damsel, of course." His eyes grew mischievous.

I clenched my jaw. "Fine."

Thane moved to my side, his voice gentle and soothing. "Harper, we are just trying to help. We're all worried about you." He placed a tentative hand on my arm. And I allowed it.

Tripp gave Trey a look I couldn't decipher before grunting and walking toward the entrance to the alley. He stood sentinel there, appearing bored.

"Okay, Harper. Let's see the damage so we can all calm down a little." Trey gave me a genuine smile, parking himself in front of me while the other two moved to each side of me.

"Dookey kneed me in the stomach. That's it. I'm fine."

"Harper. We have an agreement. I check you over. And I don't do things by halves. So your only choice is whether you want the peanut gallery to stay or go."

That got the other two all riled up.

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You wouldn't want the best looking brother to leave, now would you?"

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. Unsure of how much more I could handle today.

"Just Trey. Please."

I still hadn't opened my eyes, but I heard a scuffle that faded away. Then, nothing.

I was alone again. I would always be alone.

A finger brushed over my cheek, leaving moisture in its wake. Because of course I would be crying.

I cautiously opened my eyes to find Trey's soft blue ones staring at me. He just gave me a smile, but didn't mention the tears. And I was very grateful.

I refused to take any clothes off. But I did lift my sweater. Dookey left a circular bruise about the size of an orange above my belly button. Trey examined the heel print a bit more excessively than was required, in my opinion, but didn't ask about it. Next his gentle fingers found the bump in the back of my head.

"So, am I all cataloged now?"

Trey gave me another of his smiles. "I think we have enough to quiet the beast. Thank you." He surprised me by gently tugging me against his chest. "You had us worried, you know."

I buried my face in his shirt. His really soft, really good smelling shirt. "I know. And I'm sorry. Theo shouldn't have worried you like that."

Trey used a finger to tilt my head up. "I have a feeling that you find it hard to believe that someone would worry about you. Personally, I'm glad he called us. And I know we haven't known each other for very long. That doesn't stop us from worrying.

"You, my little Spitfire, are stuck with us. We're not going anywhere." Then he pressed a soft, sweet kiss to my forehead.