Emersyn's birthday party is in full swing, and the whole place feels like it's vibrating with energy. I should be focused on the celebration, laughing at Fowler's terrible jokes or watching Valarie dance like she doesn't give a damn who's watching. Instead, my eyes keep drifting to Elias. He's leaned back in his chair, beer in hand, grinning at something Emersyn's boyfriend Locke just said. He looks... normal. Which is fucking terrifying.

He's been like this for days now. No sign of the cracks Valarie warned us about. No sign that he's lost his mom. Which honestly, I was surprised to find out his mom was even still around. He never talked about her, let alone said anything about her being in a nursing home.

He's never really mentioned family. Well, besides an uncle. And I only know that because he told me his uncle gave him the house he lives in now when he passed away.

It really has me thinking about how little Elias has told me, or any of us, about himself. I know about Adrian's parents. I know that he's punched his dad defending Val. Which honestly, is probably the reason I've grown to like him so much. He's so much like Val, yet not at the same time.

I know Val has parents up north. She goes and sees them once or twice a year. They're close, but in a professional way, if that makes sense. They call every so often, on birthdays or holidays. But Valarie lives her own life.

My parents live in the next town over. Dad is a retired cop. Retired with a pretty penny.

It's strange how well you can know someone, like the way I know Elias, yet know nothing about him at all. My heart cracks at the thought.

It's like Elias has flipped a switch, shutting off the grief like it was a busted light. The thing is, Elias isn't the type to shut down. Not usually. He feels things deeply, wears his emotions like armor. This new version of him, the one who's too calm, too composed, has me on edge.

I've tried to talk to him about it. Hell, I've practically cornered him a couple of times, asking if he's okay. But he brushes me off with that same easy grin, cracks some joke, and moves on. I'm not buying it.

I take a long swig of my beer, letting the cool bitterness ground me. The table is loud with overlapping conversations. Adrian's leaning in toward Emersyn, asking her about some charity event he's organizing and needing catering for. Marx is tossing peanuts at Locke, who's glaring at him like he's seconds away from retaliation. Valarie's perched beside Elias, her hand resting casually on his thigh. She's laughing at something Cruz said, her head tilted back, her auburn hair catching the light. She's fucking radiant.

I catch her eye, and she sends me a quick wink, her lips curving into a smile that's just for me. My chest tightens. How did I get so damn lucky?

"Declan," Marx says, dragging me out of my thoughts. "You alive over there, or are you practicing your best brooding cop impression?"

"Fuck off," I mutter, but there's no heat in it. Marx smirks, satisfied, and tosses another peanut in Locke's direction.

"You really should lighten up," Fowler adds, his tone dripping with faux concern. "Your wrinkles are gonna have wrinkles soon."

I flip him off, earning a round of laughter from the table. The banter helps, but only a little. My eyes drift back to Elias. He's laughing now, his shoulders shaking, and it hits me how much I miss hearing that sound. But it's hollow. I can feel it. There's no weight behind it, no depth. Just a mask.

I'm talking to Locke near the bar when I see her. At least, I think I see her. The blonde hair, the sharp cheekbones, the way she moves through the crowd like she's daring someone to stop her. My stomach twists.

Gina.

My pulse kicks up, and my grip on my beer tightens. But when she turns, I realize it's not her. Just someone with the same icy confidence, the same designer heels clicking against the floor. I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, but the unease doesn't leave. Gina's been popping up too much lately, lurking around like a bad fucking omen. I cannot deal with her on top of everything else.

"You okay?" Locke asks, his brows furrowing.

"Yeah," I say, forcing a nod. "Just thought I saw someone I knew."

"Someone good, or someone you'd rather avoid?"

I huff out a laugh, but it's humorless. "Definitely the latter."

Locke doesn't push, which I'm grateful for. Instead, he claps me on the shoulder and turns his attention back to the bartender, ordering another round.

I'm trying to shake off the tension when I hear her voice. Sharp, familiar, and entirely unwelcome.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite ex-husband."

Fuck.

I turn slowly, and there she is. Gina. Standing there with a drink in her hand and a smile that's all venom. My jaw tightens, and I force myself to stay calm.

"Gina," I say evenly. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Isn't it obvious?" She gestures around the bar. "Having a good time. What about you? Oh, wait, I already know. Playing house with your little girlfriend and her merry band of boyfriends."

The words hit like a slap, but I don't react. That's what she wants. To get under my skin, to make me lose my cool. Not tonight. How long has she been watching me tonight to pick up on our dynamic? Last I saw of her, I was holding Elias's hand, letting her draw her own conclusions.

"Leave," I say, my voice low but firm. "Now."

"Why?" She tilts her head, feigning innocence. "Afraid I'll embarrass you? Or maybe I'll tell your new friends all the little secrets you've been keeping?"

Before I can respond, Valarie steps up beside me. Her presence is steady, grounding, and I feel some of the tension ease.

"Is there a problem here?" Valarie asks, her tone polite but with an edge that's impossible to miss.

Gina's eyes flick to Valarie, and her smile turns sharp. "Ah, you must be the girlfriend. It's so nice to finally meet you."

Valarie's expression doesn't waver. "Can't say the same about you."

Gina's laugh is cold. "Oh, I'm sure Declan's told you all about me. Haven't you, darling?"

"Enough," I snap. "Gina, leave. Now."

But she doesn't. Of course she doesn't. Instead, she takes a step closer, her gaze locked on Valarie. "You know, he used to be fun. Before you turned him into... whatever this is." She gestures vaguely, her disdain obvious. She must be drunk. I mean, yeah, Gina can be a bitch, but drunk Gina is worse. And this is drunk Gina.

"Gina," I warn, but Valarie steps forward, cutting me off.

"You don't know a damn thing about me or Declan," Valarie says, her voice steady but dangerous. "So why don't you take your cheap shots and leave before this gets ugly?"

Gina's smile widens, like she's just been handed exactly what she wanted. "Oh, honey, I'm not the one who's going to look ugly when this is over."

And that's it. Valarie moves faster than I can react, her fist connecting with Gina's cheek with a satisfying thud. Gina stumbles back, her drink spilling onto the floor as she lets out a startled gasp.

"Valarie!" I grab her arm, pulling her back before she can go in for a second hit. "Enough." As much as I would like to see someone lay Gina out, the cop part of me knows that I need to stop this before I'm bailing Val out of jail.

"She's lucky that's all she's getting," Valarie snaps, her eyes blazing.

Gina straightens, her hand pressed to her cheek. She looks furious and humiliated, and for a moment, I think she might retaliate. But then she scoffs, turning on her heel and storming out of the bar.

The silence that follows is deafening. All eyes are on us, and I can feel the weight of the stares. But Valarie doesn't seem to care. She's still fuming, her chest rising and falling as she glares at the door Gina just walked through.

My little spitfire.

"You didn't have to do that," I say, my voice softening.

She looks at me, her anger melting into something gentler. "Yes, I did. No one talks about you like that. Not while I'm around."

I don't know what to say to that. So I pull her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."

She smiles up at me, her eyes soft. "Always."

But as I hold her, my mind drifts back to Elias. I scan the bar, my stomach sinking when I realize he's nowhere to be seen.

"I'll be back," I tell Valarie, releasing her and heading toward the bathrooms.

I find him slumped against the sink, his skin pale and clammy. The smell of alcohol is strong, and I know immediately he's had way too much.

"Elias," I say, kneeling beside him. "Hey, man. You with me?"

He groans, his eyes fluttering open. "Declan?"

"Yeah. Come on, let's get you out of here."

As I help him to his feet, my mind races. Elias is spiraling, and I don't know how to pull him out of it. But I'll be damned if I don't try.