For a moment, as she gets out of bed, her body naked, the morning light filtering through the window shining around her like an aura, like an angel, I almost tell her, "Let's run away. Let's never look back." But my name's on the deed for this property. Someone's going to trace me here sooner or later. Trace us here.

  You can't hide forever and in looking for me, I don't want these assholes going after my friends, after Walker, Wavy, Jameson or Jemma, Maker even.

  I want to protect them. I considered letting Bellamy stay here alone while I go deal with this shit, but that's not going to fly. Besides, Bellamy wants to meet her father. If she didn't, maybe this would be easier.

  When we get to the boat, I rev the engine and Bellamy zips up the rain jacket she's borrowed from me. There's no rain on the horizon, but it's windy out here and it whips around us. She stands in front of me at the steering wheel and I wrap my arms around her, guiding us from the dock. I turn around taking another look at my island. My goddamn island. I want to live here forever with Bellamy and if that means making amends with her father now, so be it.

  What scares me though is that she's going to meet this man and she's not going to want to leave him.

  I’m worried that somehow he’ll wrap her in his web and she'll be stuck. I don't want her to have to choose, not between me and a monster.

  "What?" she says, tilting her chin and looking up at me over her shoulder.

  “Driving away right now in my boat, looking back at the island, I think of it as our home and I want that for us, baby. I want that to be our home forever."

  She smiles. "It will be. Just let me go meet this man. Let me make my peace once and for all and then…"

  "Then what?" I ask.

  "Then I'll give you my heart completely."

  I clench my jaw, realizing the deeper meaning in her words, that she hasn't given me her heart already. "Don't be so grumpy," she says. "Just imagine the food we're going to order at a restaurant. I don't even know what you like to eat when you go out. Here we are falling hard and I don't even know if you like hamburgers or fish and chips."

  "Fish and chips," I say, "always."

  "Yeah?" she asks. "Good to know. Steak fries or coleslaw?"

  I chuckle. "Both, Bellamy. What kind of man do you think I am?"

  She smiles.

  "Don't tell me you're a salad kind of girl,” I say.

  She laughs. "Don't have to worry about that. But I'm a hamburger girl through and through. Steak fries with a side of barbecue."

  "Yeah?" I say, squeezing her waist. "I like that."

  "You do?" she asks. "Good, because Beam, I like you."

  And if we could bottle this moment up, I would. Because it’s pure and it’s good. There is no one between us. Just smiles, and kisses, and dreaming up the future.

  I’m just so damn scared I’m not going to be returning to the island with Bellamy.

  Bellamy and me? Seems too good to be true.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bellamy

  When we get to the marina in Riverside, I take in the details of Beam killing the engine, anchoring the boat, making sure we're safe. He looks around, takes in the people around us — there aren’t many. It's mid-morning and a blustery day, but the sky is blue, dotted with a few clouds, and I feel at peace, even though I don't know what's to come.

  I'm scared of seeing Maker, and I'm mad that Beam called him, but I'm more scared of seeing my father, of coming face-to-face with the man who may or may not have left me, who may or may not have chosen to give me up. But I want answers.

  I've waited long enough for them, and I'm grateful that Beam is willing to travel this road with me.

  Still, every time I think about Maker joining us, my body gets itchy, I get scared, and I'm not sure how to explain that to Beam, how to say, "This man that you know — that you're friends with — hurt me, wrecked me, had me running." I thought I'd explained it, but I guess I haven't well enough, and that leaves a divide between us, one I wonder if we'll be able to cross.

  Still, I'm falling for Beam, and I decide to compartmentalize this moment from the rest.

  "Do you want to go below deck before we go find food?" I ask him.

  He lifts an eyebrow. "What's below deck?"

  I smile. "Your bed." I may be frustrated with him… but my body still craves him.

  He chuckles, pulling me close and kissing me deeply, hard. I feel his length against my belly, and he hooks his fingers through my belt loops, and we move wordlessly, down the stairs, to the mattress.

  We pull off our clothes quickly. Over the last week or so, we’ve memorized each other’s bodies. We've learned our movements, and when we come together, it’s easy, it’s magic. Seamless, and in unison. He runs his fingers over my body, dips his mouth to my breast, sucks my nipple.

  I tingle, warm all over, and we roll in bed. The mattress smells like him, pine needles and saltwater. I move on top of him, wanting to sink against him, wanting to press my hands to his chest, lace my fingers with his, and lean down, letting our foreheads touch, our noses meet; we kiss.

  My body opens for him, and I take his length, his hardness, and it fills me up. I close my eyes, moaning, and so does he. It's easy. It's good. It's not like any other sex I've had before. I try not to think about Maker. I focus on the man before me, under me, against me.

  Beam, Beam, Beam.

  This man who is good, with a pure heart and good intentions. This man who loves me, who's vowed to protect me and take care of me. I know he will. Still, I’m scared. Tears fall down my cheeks. I wasn't going to cry. I was going to keep this fun and light. What happened to the compartments, anyway?

  "What's wrong?" he asks, cupping my cheek, our lips meeting again.

  "I can't meet him, Beam," I tell him.

  "Maker?" he says.

  I nod. "I can't go there."

  We rock together, our hips moving in a circle. I'm not some innocent virgin. Some girl who's never experienced a man before. I've been used, abused. I fought to survive. I'm done fighting. “He hurt me, Beam.”

  We roll over in the bed. Beam moves against me, on top of me. The weight of his body feels so secure and comforting. I wish we were talking about anything else. I close my eyes.

  "Do you trust me, Bellamy?” he asks. Our bodies moving faster, panting as he speaks. I wrap my legs around him, groaning as he fills me up. I'm so close to climax and he moves faster, knowing my need.

  I want to say yes. I want to say, "Yes, I trust you implicitly," but the truth is, do I?

  If I did, I wouldn't hesitate, and I'm hesitating now. Is it fear talking, or is it my gut instincts? I wish I knew, but I haven't trusted myself in a long time because my instincts led me to Father John’s — led me to a sex cult.

  We finish. He comes hard inside of me, and I think about our conversations. Beam saying he wanted to fill me up with a baby. Me wanting to give him what he wants, wanting it for myself too, to be a mother, his wife. Words I never considered for myself before, words I can't consider now.

  He stills on top of me, and I pull myself around him, wrapping my body against him so tight, legs and arms. I nuzzle my mouth against his neck. "I want to trust you," I say. They’re not the words he wants to hear.

  I hear him swallow. Feel his heart beat hard.

  We roll on the mattress side by side. "I love you, Bellamy," he says, because what else can he say right now? This is what it means to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. This right here, the space between us. "Will you ever forgive me for calling Maker?" he asks.

  I lick my lips. "I don't know, Beam. I want our relationship to be easy. And right now, it just feels hard. We want different things."

  "That's not true," he says. "I want you to be happy."

  "Yeah? Well, this is a really strange way of trying to achieve that," I say, a little more bite in my words than I expect, my voice tight, revealing everything.

  I see it then, the look in his eyes. Bruised. Like he knows he's losing me.

  We clean up and go outside. We'll be back here to sleep tonight. I don't know what comes next. He and Maker are planning some pow-wow where they're going to set up a meeting with Santiago, get some intel. That might mean us going to Nevada, but Santiago might be anywhere. He could be here, for all we know. Waiting for me, looking for me. He could be anywhere.

  We slip into town, walking down nearly empty streets. Beam buys me clothes. They're pretty, sundresses and underwear, blue jeans that I cuff, leather sandals, a sweater that looks like it was knit by hand, a hat with a wide brim. Feminine but durable, all of it. Beam likes to do this, take care of me how he can. John would've never done this for me. Neither would Maker, neither would any other man I've ever been with.

  Beam is different. He wants to treat me like a princess. Cinderella.

  I close my eyes, wishing I were her, on my way to a ball, not preparing to face the enemy.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Beam

  After the shopping spree, I take Bellamy to the bar and grill that I visited last time I was here. I order the fish and chips and she gets her hamburger and we laugh. "Destiny, I guess," she says with a smile. Her moods have been going up and down all day. All week, really.

  I wonder if that's how she always is. I wouldn't call it an emotional roller coaster, no. It’s like high and low tide. She can sweep you away, but also leave you feeling stripped down, bare.

  Bellamy is in touch with her feelings, that's for damn sure, and I'm grateful for it. It makes me love her even more. Her dark, her deep — it’s beautiful. But I'm not used to it.

  I know she hates the idea of Maker joining us for this family reunion, but I hate the idea of something bad happening to her a hell of a lot more.

  I wish we had more time, but that's one thing we don't have at our disposal, at least not now. Maybe if we deal with this, we can move forward. We'll have all the time in the world. A man can hope, a man can dream.

  "I'm going to use the restroom," I tell her, leaving the booth, and she smiles.

  "All right," she says, lifting her beer and taking another drink.

  A few minutes later I come back to the table and I see the bartender, Marley, chatting with Bellamy in the booth.

  "Long time, no see," she says to me warmly. Her hair is in those pigtail braids again and she's wearing overalls. She looks like she's just stepped off of a farm and I can't quite understand why a girl like her is working at a bar. She just doesn't fit.

  "I was just getting to talk to your girl here. When I saw you last, you were on your way to find her — looks like you did."

  Bellamy smiles. “Beam talked to you about me?"

  Marley nods. "Sure did. He was telling me how he's been in love with you since day one."

  Bellamy smiles. "That's sweet."

  “You know, there was a guy here an hour or so ago, looking for you,” she says. “Asked if I knew of a man named Beam.” I frown as she continues to talk. “He was wondering if I knew any guy who was really, really tall and really, really strong with a gnarly ass beard, no offense."

  "None taken," I say tightly.

  Bellamy looks at me, her eyes narrow. Was it Maker or was it John asking about me, is all I can think.

  "What did he look like?" I ask.

  “He looked like you, although worse for wear,” Marley says.

  Bellamy exhales. “He wasn't a lean man with long hair?"

  Marley shakes her head. "No, he wasn't built like that."

  I have my answer — Maker’s found his way here. “What did you tell him?” I ask.

  Marley twists her lips. “I told him I had no idea who he was talking about.” When I exhale, she adds, “Look, I’ve lived here in rural Alaska all my life. I don’t want to involve myself in anybody’s trouble.”

  “Thank you,” I tell her, meaning it.

  She waves it off. “So, what now?” Marley asks. “You settling down here in town? I thought you lived down on the Gibson place."

  "I do. We do," I say. “We came to do some shopping."

  "I see. Well, you're lucky," Marley tells Bellamy. "It's hard to find a man out here. There aren’t a lot of bachelors, or at least not eligible ones," she says with a smile.

  Bellamy frowns. "What about those three guys at the table? They aren't wearing wedding rings."

  "Those are my brothers and they’re really good at scaring off any man who gets within a five-mile radius of me. People here in Riverside call them the River Boys. Everyone knows not to touch me or they will have to deal with them.”

  Bellamy and I laugh. "So, you're single," Bellamy says.

  "Always have been and I fear I always will be. I'm 22 years old and I've lived my life in the Middle of Nowhere, Alaska. The only guys I ever meet are the ones who are coming through for fishing and then they're out the next morning. And my brothers make sure none of those men get close to me."

  "That's sweet," Bellamy says with a smile, "that you have brothers so worried about you. Family that cares."

  Marley nods, understanding. "I'm guessing you didn't grow up with brothers."

  Bellamy shakes her head. "No, I didn't."

  Marley laughs. "Well, I guess you always want what you don't have."

  "Ain't that the truth," I say.

  Bellamy looks at me and frowns. "What do you want that you don't have?"

  I lift my eyes, wondering how much she wants me to say in front of this bartender. "To be honest, I guess I want your undying love and devotion, Bellamy."

  Marley smiles. "Wow. I honestly have never heard a mountain man talk like this. Girl, he's a keeper."

  "Yeah?” Bellamy asks. "I'll give you my heart and devotion, just as soon as we get back to your island."

  "Is that a promise?" I ask.

  Bellamy nods. "It's a guarantee. I’ve been listening to Marley here. She says eligible bachelors don't come around every day."

  Marley smiles. "Well, make sure you invite me to the wedding.”

  We pay the check, the conversation leaving me unsettled. Bellamy gives Marley a hug, flinging her arms around her, and it's a sweet act of solidarity. That's how Bellamy always was with the girls when she worked for Maker. The mother hen, the mama bear looking out for everybody else.

  "I think you're going to find your happily ever after," she tells Marley. "The thing is, I'm realizing it's never the way we expect."

  I run a hand over my beard, knowing I wasn't what Bellamy expected.

  Hell, her falling for me wasn't what I expected either. It was my hope, sure, but never my expectation.

  We walk out of the restaurant hand in hand, but then outside, I realize Bellamy is fighting back tears.

  "I'm not ready," she tells me, "to see him."

  I nod, understanding. "I can get you back on the boat and then I'll go out and look for him on my own."

  She nods. "Okay. Thank you."

  I give her a kiss, soft and slow, and when I pull back, I wonder if she’s trying to tell me something. If this is her kiss goodbye.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Bellamy

  I am gone before Beam returns. Part of me wishes I could stay and talk it through, but we've been talking for the last 24 hours and he hasn't budged. I know he’s out meeting Maker tonight, probably at some hotel bar, and I'm not going to judge him for that. Hell, who am I to judge anyone for anything? But I don't want to be a part of it. I'm not ready to. I might never be and maybe that's okay.

  Do you have to forgive everyone in your past to move on? I don't think so, but I can make peace with it and I know I haven't done that yet. First, I need to make peace with my father, so I take my bags, leaving the new clothing Beam bought me behind. It feels wrong to take those things when he paid for them, anticipating me wearing them while we were together.

  I refuse to cry right now. I need to be strong. So I try to think back to a year ago when I left California, making my way to Alaska. My hopes hitched to a star high in the sky. I made a wish for a different life and I suppose in some ways I have found that. I've gotten what I wished for and now I'm going back to the past.

  Maybe I'm the fool trying to rewrite history or maybe I'm just looking for that missing chapter, the one where the girl meets her dad, the one most girls get and I never had. I wonder where my mother is in all of this. Maybe I don't want to know. Maybe she's a ghost just like I am to Beam.

  I buy a burner phone at a convenience store and I make a phone call that shocks me still. I press the number into the keypad and I listen to it as it rings. He answers. "John," I say, "it's me, Bellamy. I…"

  "Where the hell are you?" he says. "What the fuck did you do?"

  "If you want to get nasty, I'm not going to do this," I tell him calmly. "I need to know where my father is."

  "Do you?" he scoffs. "Fuck. You watched me get beat within an inch of my life and now you're calling, asking about your daddy?”

  "It's like you're blaming me," I tell him. "Like I'm the one who started that fight."

  "Well, you didn't come after me, did you?" he snarls.

  "I'm calling you now, aren't I?" I say, my voice hitched, irritation rising inside of me. "I don't want to fight. I want answers. Look, I didn't know the guy who took me in the alley. All I know is I am free now and I'm calling you. That's got to amount to something, doesn't it?"

  I can practically hear him consider this. He sucks air through his middle teeth. "Yeah, I suppose it does. So you're calling me looking for your daddy's number?"

  "Yeah," I say. "Is he still here in Alaska?"

  "Oh, hell no, he's long gone," John tells me.

  "Where is he?" I ask.

  "Why would I tell you that?"

  "I don't know. Maybe because we have some fucked up history, John. Maybe because for the last year I've done everything you wanted, how you wanted it, where you wanted it. Maybe because it's your turn to give a little?"