“I stayed for a while after that.” He starts moving toward me. “As close as I could to make sure you all stayed safe. But months later, I couldn’t look in the fucking mirror anymore. Someone was dead, and I wanted to die.” He pauses, the rims of his eyes red. “You think you know who you are and what you stand for, and it’s all shot to shit with a series of abominable decisions that kill any anticipation for the future. I wanted to go to the cops. I want to right now.”

  He stands there, his T-shirt stretched over his chest as he slides his hands into his pockets. His eyes hold mine, pain etched on his brow as he stares at me as if waiting.

  Does he think I hate him?

  My heart aches, looking at him so far away.

  “Come here,” I whisper.

  He stays planted in place, his mouth opening and closing, like he’s trying to resist me.

  But the only way out is through, and we start now. I could never hate him.

  “Come here,” I tell him again.

  He hesitates, but only for a moment. In two seconds, he’s in front of me, brushing my cheek, my hair, and then pulling me close. “I’m going to put everything back together,” he says, his voice strained. “But first, I need to make sure you’re safe.”

  I stare at him through watering eyes. “What are you going to do?”

  We hug, and he squeezes me so tightly, I can barely breathe.

  “I’m going to go after him.” He tucks my head into his neck before I can tense. “And then they can put the handcuffs on me, and whatever happens, happens.”

  I startle, sucking in a breath. “Lucas, no.”

  I push against his hold, lifting my eyes to his. It could end badly. It will end badly. I could lose him forever.

  Hasn’t he learned anything? He needs his family. We can help. Madoc needs to know everything. Now.

  He holds my face, his hard voice steady and sure as he tells me again without hesitation, “I’m going to make you safe.”

  Lucas

  Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I climb back through the mirror, seeing lightning flash across the street outside her shop window.

  She chases after me. “No.”

  Coming around my front, she snakes her arms around my waist, but I gently pull her off. I need to go. I’m going to find Drew before he has a chance to use me against Madoc.

  She pleads with me. “Lucas, no.”

  I move away from her and dial Farrow. He picks up the line. “I’m here.”

  “Where’s Hugo right now?” I ask. If anyone knows where Drew is, it’s him.

  Farrow sighs, realization dawning. “Ah, shit.”

  I unlock the front door to go to the car, but Quinn plants a hand on it to stop me.

  Farrow grumbles in my ear, “Meet me at Wicked.”

  The strip club? It’s five-thirty in the morning. Hugo must be self-soothing after nearly dying last night. I’d already had a tow truck dig the Mustang out of the woods and bring it back to Mr. and Mrs. Caruthers’s place. It looked fine, but I hadn’t had a chance to inspect it thoroughly yet. I just hope I have a chance to fix any damages before Jared sees it.

  First things first, though.

  “I don’t need you there,” I tell him.

  I can do this alone.

  But he just laughs like I told a joke and hangs up.

  I slide my phone back into my pocket and try to open the door.

  “It wasn’t your fault,” Quinn states in a stern voice. “You couldn’t have known how things would go.”

  I remove her hand and yank the door open before she has a chance to place herself in my way again.

  “It is my fault that I didn’t stay,” I point out. “That Green Street still survives. I should’ve dug in and gotten to fucking work.”

  “I’ll call Madoc.”

  “And implicate him?” Fuck, no. Not yet. “I’ll tell Madoc. But I need to take care of this. It’s my responsibility.”

  She shoots out an arm, placing it across my chest as she blocks me from leaving. “What if Reeves is watching? What if he’s there? What if he kills you? Who will keep me safe then?”

  I stare down into her warm, brown eyes. That’s what I’m trying to do. Keep you safe. The idea of her alone tomorrow, and next week, and a year from now. With Reeves on the loose? Hell no.

  Taking her by the back of the neck, I pull her forehead into my lips, but her body is stiff.

  “Don’t go,” she whispers.

  I’m coming back. This is something I should’ve done a long time ago.

  “Stay here, lock the doors,” I instruct as I walk out. “No business today.”

  “Lucas!” she cries behind me.

  The scent of rain fills the thick air as a breeze sweeps through my hair.

  “You’re making a mistake!” she shouts.

  And running away and ignoring the problem hasn’t done me a bit of good, either.

  “Don’t come back then!”

  Her growl hits my back, and I halt in my tracks. What?

  Whipping around, I see her standing in the doorway.

  “You don’t listen,” she bites out. “You don’t know that your family is your strength, and you’ll never get it through your head! Fuck you!”

  I almost rear back, my stomach sinking as I watch her slam the door, lock it, and disappear through the kitchen doors.

  Did she just tell me to fuck myself? What the hell is she mad for? I’m finally dealing with this! I—

  I cut the thought off before it even fully forms and shake my head. No. I can’t worry about this right now. She hasn’t been living with this shit for nearly a decade! She’s speaking from a place of fear.

  Climbing into one of Jason’s older cars—some BMW that’s even older than Quinn—I yank the door closed.

  My family is my strength… How does that help me?

  I try not to speed to the club, but my blood is boiling. She needs to trust me. For the first time, I know I’m doing the right thing.

  But I can’t shake the look in her eyes.

  Is she gonna let me in when I come back? Does she actually believe I’m not better now than I was? This needs to happen. I’ll always have the guilt, but this is the first step in starting to make amends.

  All I can seem to picture, though, is her seething in her kitchen and closing the door in her heart because I’ve abandoned her before and she’s tired of men who make their decisions her problem. I’m just one more she has to handle, and I don’t want to be. I want to be there for her now.

  In no time, I find myself in Wicked’s parking lot, sliding into a spot and turning off the engine.

  If this meeting turns bad, will that have been the last time she saw me just now? Probably the best fucking thing for her.

  Taking my phone, I open the voice recorder and press the microphone icon. I shut the screen off and exit the vehicle.

  Farrow waits at the front door, and without a word, falls in behind me as I enter the club to talk to Hugo. I peek at Farrow out of the corner of my eye, though, wondering if he’s just another mistake.

  I trust what he said. As Ciaran’s son, maybe he doesn’t have any plans to harm me or cross me, but I know he has a hidden agenda. Why else risk upending the status quo just to help me? I almost warn him that I’m recording on my phone, but I’m not entirely sure he’s on my side.

  Emerging from the short tunnel into the club, I’m taken back to my time in college. The crisp perfume of carpet shampoo and air freshener mixed with the stench of cigarettes.

  The boom of the bass and the music drowning out my thoughts.

  The coolness of the air, like being on an empty trail in the forest.

  I feel that same assault on the senses that happened just like the only other time I’ve been here. That sudden darkness stealing you away from the light.

  I didn’t think this place was open this early in the morning. They could have a Late Hour Liquor License, but that would mean Hugo and his boys have been drinking all night, not to mention whatever else they might be on.

  Fuck it.

  I find him off to the right of the stage, in a dark alcove, seated at a booth. Two girls dance on stage, but they’re barely putting on a show. They look exhausted, dragging their platform stilettos across the glossy floor. A man sits alone at a table, and a couple sits together, whispering. There’s a bartender, and a server moves across the floor. No one else.

  I motion for Farrow to stand next to the booth where I can see him, and grab a chair, planting it in front of Hugo’s table. I clutch my phone in my hand as I sit. “My family is tracking me, so behave, okay?” I tell Hugo.

  He laughs under his breath.

  “I find that we’re at an impasse,” I tell him. “I can’t implicate you without you implicating me. And I can’t offer you anything better.”

  His arms hang over the back of the half-circle booth as he blows out smoke. There’s a cut on his head just visible behind a lock of hair and a bruise on his cheek. At least no one was killed in the accident.

  “But I can replace you,” I say.

  “With yourself?” He grins. “You won’t.”

  I don’t want to. But…

  “I want it more than I do leaving you in charge,” I retort. “How many kids are selling your drugs?”

  He pauses, and I take the chance. “What have you done that I don’t have the guts to do?”

  The guys around him sit still, but wait for his instruction, and I feel the hair on my arms rise as my phone records. Say something. Just one boast. I only need one piece of leverage.

  But he looks over my head, gesturing someone over. I’m about to turn, but a girl appears at my side a moment later. A young woman with coppery red hair, dressed in a blue-sequined infinity slinga. She’s hanging out everywhere, her ass glowing with oil.

  “This is Peridot.” Hugo blows out another puff of smoke. “Named after her birthstone.”

  I look away from her but keep my fucking chin up.

  “She can give you a black eye with them tits,” he taunts, smiling at me.

  He’s fucking with me. Drew used to do the same thing. Drop a line and see if I’d bite. I always thought it was because he wanted a friend to go down the rabbit hole with. Maybe he’d feel less sleazy if I did it too.

  Now I know…he wanted me to feel sleazy. He wanted me to look in the mirror and see him. He hated me.

  “Let her dance for you,” Hugo tells me as my phone vibrates, “and I’ll give you anything you want.”

  “Like Reeves’s location?” I fire back, ignoring a call from Isobel.

  A slow smile curls his lips, and he shrugs. “Sure.” Hugo announces to his crew, “Hear me, boys? My word is gold.”

  “Yep,” one of them concurs.

  Yeah, right.

  Before I know it, she’s in front of me, holding my shoulder for support as she starts to come down into my lap.

  Fuck.

  I freeze, the moment hitting me like a car. The memory of Quinn’s lips over my forehead—like a ghost—cooks my muscles until they’re burning, and I shoot up, pushing her off.

  No.

  I’m not playing these fucking games.

  The whole table erupts into laughter as Isobel’s name flashes on the screen again, and I do everything to stand tall and not give away that my pulse is racing. The young woman retreats a few steps as my phone vibrates, her eyes flitting between me and her boss.

  Hugo chuckles, pleased with himself for calling my bluff as he takes another drag of his cigarette. “This is my family for a reason. You could never replace me.”

  Yeah, no shit.

  I’d never want to be him.

  But the word family keeps turning over in my head.

  My family, he’d said.

  Your family is your strength.

  They all stare at me, probably waiting for my next move, but I stare at the call continuing to come in.

  My family.

  “I’ll be in touch,” I murmur to them, backing away. “Tonight.”

  And I spin around, heading out of the club and hearing Farrow on my heels. “I need to check on Quinn,” I call back to him.

  “Stay in Shelburne Falls,” he warns. “River’s going to surge tonight.”

  I nod, not turning back. I don’t want to lose my train of thought.

  Leaving him behind, I jump into the car and speed away, kicking up gravel as I drive out of the parking lot.

  Drew got to me by threatening those close to me. Maybe Hugo isn’t the way in. He’s only powerful by the grace of those around him. His family is the way in.

  I’m going about this the wrong way. Quinn was right.

  My cell lights up on the seat next to me. Swiping it up, I answer, but Isobel speaks before I have a chance. “When the call goes to voicemail that fast, then I know you’re ‘ignoring’ it.”

  “Sorry.” I shift into high gear. “I can’t talk about work right now.”

  “It’s not about work,” she replies. “You told me to do some research.”

  I go still. Right.

  “Did you find something?” Equal parts excitement and dread course through me. “Something on Hugo Navarre or Drew Reeves?” I ask, hopeful.

  I’d asked her to look up Madoc, Jared, and Jax, as well. I didn’t want her to find anything, though.

  “Actually,” she tells me. “I found something on you.”

  Oh, what the fuck… What now?

  I’m too exhausted with worry at this point to muster much of a reaction. What could she have possibly found?

  “Do you have a Ruger?” she asks.

  The muscles leave my arms, and the car swerves. I quickly jerk it back into place. “The rifle?” I blurt out. “No.”

  Guns? Is she saying my name is being mentioned with firearms somewhere?

  “Do you have an AR-15?” she presses.

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  I don’t mean to shout at her, but now I’m worried.

  “Yeah, I’ve never known you to be an enthusiast,” she goes on, “so that’s what caught my eye. There are six firearms registered in your name at the address 8 Green Street.”

  “What?!” I shout.

  Weapons? Are they just registered, or are they the subject of police investigations?

  That son of a bitch! Drew either registered them under me to frame me for something else, or he wanted weapons that wouldn’t be confiscated if he was arrested. I knew he had some. I remember the gun cabinet upstairs where he stored them. I just had no idea he put anything in my name. Did he do it before I left?

  “I’ll get in touch with a lawyer there,” she tells me. “They’ll want to have you file a police report.”

  But that black gun cabinet at Green Street lurks in my head, my memory stirring.

  The ammo boxes…

  “Wait,” I say.

  There was one green bullet case. It had a black handle. He didn’t store bullets in it, though.

  And then it all comes back to me.

  Shit. It might still be there. In that cabinet. He would believe it was safe there while he was on the run.

  I blink, shaking my head. “Yes,” I tell her, changing my mind. “Go ahead. Tell them to call me tomorrow.”

  I need tonight.

  “Is there anything else I can do?”

  I’m almost at Frosted, but I need to make sure. “They haven’t been used in any crimes, right?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  Thank God.

  I swallow. “I’ll talk to you later.”

  We hang up, and I coast into the center of town in less than two minutes.

  Your family is your strength. Good job, Isobel. Who knows what I could’ve accomplished if I’d asked for help eight years ago.

  Quinn is going to love hearing I was wrong.

  Leaves spin in little cyclones in the empty street, and a couple of businesses glow with light. But most are still quiet. My tires screech as I halt in front of her place, and I charge out of the car, across the sidewalk, and grab the door handle. I jiggle it, seeing her moving in the kitchen, unaware of me.

  Rounding the building, I walk into the alleyway behind her business and find the back door locked as well.

  I pound on the steel. “Quinn!”

  “Fuck off!”

  I cock my brow. At least she’s not ignoring me.

  Glancing to my right, I spot a small pile of cinderblocks. Hauling one up, I bring it down like a hammer on her door handle, the small piece loosening from its bolts.

  Her frustrated scream carries through the door because she knows what I’m doing.

  Slamming down the block again, I watch as the handle nearly pops off, dangling. I’ll get someone to fix it in the morning. I won’t be leaving her till then anyway.

  Dropping the block, I pull off my T-shirt, thread it around the handle, and pull as hard as I can until the damn thing snaps off. Sticking my fingers in the hole, I open the door and barge inside.

  “Get out!” she bellows, her whole body rigid.

  I walk right up to her, breathing hard. “No,” I gasp.

  She moves to shove me in the chest, but I circle her waist and pull her in, just holding her to me. Just letting her feel me and my heart beat.

  “You were right,” I whisper over her lips. “Okay? You were right.”

  “It’s too late,” she cries. “I’m tired of you.”

  I take her into my arms, sliding my hand up the back of her scalp. “I’m nowhere near tired of you yet,” I say desperately.

  I cut off her whimper with my mouth, kissing her and relishing the feel of her body plastered to mine. My eyes sting behind my lids, every drop of blood under my skin boiling. Every inch of my body hums with the feel of her.

  For so long, nothing felt whole. Not me. Not anything. She was always mine, first to protect and now to take, and my only place is with her.

  “You were right,” I breathe out again.

  She moans as I trail my lips down her neck, clenching her hair in my fist, lightly biting and licking her throat, her jaw, her earlobes…

  I kiss away her tears, feeling her soften. “Quinn,” I beg, pressing my forehead to hers.

  In seconds, I have her shirt pulled off, her bra on the floor, and her shorts unbuttoned.

  Lifting her, I wrap her legs around my waist and carry her into the shopfront. We quickly draw the blinds, and I tug her panties down below her ass as I suck on a breast.