“Considering she lost nearly everything today because of you, her life goals put on hold because her brother is useless piece of trash, I’m wondering how broken up she’ll be about that,” Mag stated.

Mick said nothing, but he was stewing, just not in a good way. He was pissed at having to take Mag’s insults.

Mag held his gaze.

Mick remained silent.

Quietly, his voice rumbling with disbelief, he asked, “Are you honestly gonna let me walk out that door without the tools I need to get your sister safe?”

“Evie always lands on her feet.”

Mag flattened his hand on the table and leaned into it.

He felt Mo get closer.

He felt Hawk go alert.

But once he did that, he stopped.

And then he said, “The thing you don’t get is, the people in our lives that we love, if we’re worth anything, anything at all, we bust our asses to make it so they aren’t in a situation where they have to land on their feet ’cause we made it so they’re always on solid ground.”

Mick’s face twisted before he replied, “Well, then, it seems it’s lucky she’s now got you.”

“Yeah, seein’ as I gotta help her survive the likes of you,” Mag returned.

The flinch he got at that was not at all hidden, but before Mag could hone in and work that, Mick’s face set to belligerence and he taunted, “Tell her I said hi.”

“I will, right after I tell her you didn’t give that first fuck you cost her everything and didn’t think once about anyone but yourself, not even to ask how she’s doing, which, by the way, is not very good.”

With that, Mag pushed up and walked right out of the room.

Mo and Hawk followed him.

Brock was waiting outside the door.

They moved farther down the hall before they stopped and huddled.

Hawk gave him a look and Mag braced because he could tell his boss was sliding into guru mode.

He’d worked for Hawk for years and the man deserved mad respect. He was a good boss, a loving husband and a doting father. He was also intelligent, experienced and returned the respect he had if it was earned.

And he was an excellent teacher and generous with his knowledge.

But Mag wasn’t sure he was in the mood for Hawk to go guru.

“You gotta play this the way you feel you should play this, but with that guy, you might want to think about giving to get,” Hawk advised.

Mag shook his head. “Evan strips to pay her bills and put herself through college. She does that and still has a second job. There might be a few things she can salvage from her apartment, Hawk, but it won’t be much. That’s an annoyance for a guy who makes the cake you do, a setback for a guy who earns like me, but it’s a disaster for Evie.”

Mag lifted a hand and stabbed a finger in the direction of the room they’d just left and carried on talking.

“He put her there. He knew it was a possibility she’d be there or in some other situation that’d have her shit twisted, and he didn’t give a fuck. I’m not gonna offer him protection or ask Brock to get the cops to swing him a deal if he takes care of his sister. He’s her blood. He shouldn’t need to get something to give that to his sister. I’ll sort her shit and whatever happens to him is not my problem. And I’ll find a way to get Evan to that same thinking.”

Hawk did not argue this, and Mag knew it was because he agreed, he just wanted Mag to consider the options.

Mag looked to Brock. “You know someone on the street called Snag who drives a Lincoln Continental?”

“My beat isn’t narcotics anymore,” Brock answered. “But I’ll ask around.”

Mo entered the conversation. “You get answers, you give them to me.”

“Mo—” Mag started.

Mo turned to Mag. “For now. You take care of Evan. While you do, I’ll be lookin’ into shit. Your focus now is her. I’ll work with Aug, Boone and Axl to make it so, when that can shift, you hit the ground running.”

Mag nodded then gave his attention back to Brock. “Appreciate you arranging this.”

“Not a problem,” Brock murmured. “Hate to say this, bub, but you’re gonna have to bring her in. She needs to make a statement.”

Mag hated to hear it, but he knew that.

“I’ll talk to her,” he replied, then cast his gaze between all of them. “I gotta get home to Evie.”

He got nods and chin lifts.

Then he took off.

Mag was standing at his door, saying good-bye to Boone and Axl.

Evie, they’d told him, had crashed an hour before.

Probably the Fireball.

And spent emotion.

And the fact, with two jobs, one she worked that was physical and ran into the dead of night, she had to run herself ragged.

“Thanks for lookin’ out for her,” he said.

“If you need anything…” Boone stated.

“She’s gonna need help with cleanup of her pad,” Mag told him.

“When you dig in, call, I’m there,” Boone replied.

“I’m in too,” Axl said.

That meant, whatever went down with them while he was away, Evan had earned their approval.

Not a surprise, she was kind of a dork, but it was seriously cute.

He nodded.

Boone lifted a hand, Axl lifted his chin, and they took off.

Mag shut the door and locked it.

He was turning out lights and telling himself it would be invasive to check on Evan to make sure she was sleeping when he heard the door to Mo’s room open.

He arrested when he saw her in the sliver of the door she hadn’t opened all the way.

Boone or Axl had given her one of his tees to sleep in.

Christ.

Yeah, she had great legs.

“Hey,” she said, opening the door farther and leaning against the jamb.

Oh yeah.

Great fucking legs.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked.

“I…” She gave her head some short shakes then asked, “You went to go talk to Mick, didn’t you?”

Shit.

Busted.

“We’ll chat about this tomorrow,” he told her, moving her way.

“He didn’t do anything to help, did he?”

He stopped in front of her and murmured, “Evie.”

“It’s okay,” she said.

“It’s really not,” he replied.

“I’m used to it,” she mumbled.

“You shouldn’t be,” he returned.

She sucked her lips between her teeth.

“You gonna be able to sleep?” he asked.

“Sure,” she lied.

Damn, he wanted to hold her.

There, in the doorway to Mo’s old room.

Or take her to his bed, stretch out beside her and hold her all night.

Give her something solid. Give her proof not everyone in her life was a dick.

He didn’t do either.

He walked back to the kitchen, nabbed the toothbrush and tube of toothpaste that he’d picked up for her, brought it back and handed it to her.

“Didn’t think to ask your brand,” he said.

She was staring down at the stuff in her hand, seemingly frozen to the spot.

“Evie?” he called, and her head came up.