Maddox's P.O.V.

The compound gates closed behind us, and Sienna didn't look back. That bothered me. Not because I expected some dramatic homecoming. I wasn't that stupid. Mostly.

But this place used to be hers almost as much as it was ours. She knew which porch board squeaked

Sienna's P.O.V.

The clubhouse smelled the same. That was the first thing I hated. Leather. Coffee. Beer that had soaked into old wood sometime during the last century. Motor oil carried in on boots. The faint bite of whatever industrial cleaner somebody used on the floors

Sienna's P.O.V.

Ten minutes sounded like nothing until I had to spend them with my mother. Judge walked beside me toward the common room but stopped at the doorway.

"You want us in there?"

I looked past him. Rook stood near the bar. Mara stood beside him. My mother looked