MASON The day had been…not as I’d expected. Quinn wasn’t half bad when it came to offering ideas, and he no longer had that look he had in high school—like I had something he wanted and he hated me for it. I wasn’t feeling the need to punch him at the end of the day. That lasted until we headed out to the parking lot and a girl with dark red hair greeted him, tipping her head back for a kiss. I recognized her. Becky Sallaway, the chick who’d backstabbed Sam on more than a few occasions. As they kissed, my phone started ringing. I turned my back on them, headed to my vehicle as I raised the phone. “Yeah?” “You want to tell me why the f**k I’m getting messages that Sam’s covered in bruises?” I looked at the ID. “Funny. My phone says this is my brother calling, not Samantha’s boyfriend.”