Nolan

"She's what?" I grip the phone tighter, my knuckles turning white as Colt's words register.

"I'm looking at them right now from the hardware store window," my best friend repeats. "Lisa's got Annabelle and Ashlynn cornered outside the dance studio, and it doesn't look friendly. Thought you'd want to know."

"Fuck." I grab my keys from my desk, already heading for the door. "I'm on my way."

I end the call and barrel past my crew, muttering ...