Why am I defending myself? Why do I think it will even matter to her?

  She shakes her head, clearly fighting off new tears. “Stop! I can’t handle more of your bullshit. Yes, I probably deserve this heartbreak for all the wretched things I’ve done in the past. Fine. I’ll heal. I’ll learn from this mistake and move on. At least I can live with the knowledge that I was genuine with you. But you know the really terrible part? If you had come to me and told me your actual name and said that you’d once wanted payback but had changed your mind, I would have believed you. I would have forgiven you. I still would have loved you. But that’s my fatal flaw: blind loyalty. No more. I’m done being lied to and used. Fuck off.” She wrenches free. “And don’t come back.”

  I stand numbly as she dashes away and disappears into the bar. Through the open awning, I see her disappear down the hall. She appears a moment later under the bright lights, wiping her cheeks, purse on her shoulder. Samantha hugs her. Andy says something that has her shaking her head. Then she disappears out the back door.

  “I fucking want to break your goddamn face right now.”

  Zipping around, I glare at Lund. “Because I fucked your girl, too?”

  It’s a nasty swipe, and I wish I could take the words back the minute they’re out of my mouth. What if Bethany was being honest and Stephen really is just a friend? What if she genuinely gave all her body not to keep herself—but her father—from prosecution? What if she really loved me?

  What if I was too fucking suspicious to listen?

  That seems to break his calm. “No, because you fucked her over, just like I suspected you would the minute I started digging into you and nothing added up. You broke a good friend’s fragile heart. Did I take Bethany to bed once? Yeah. She’d never known what it was like to have sex with someone she liked and trusted. So I tried to be there for her. It wasn’t passionate. It never happened again. I tried to be good to her. And you’re being an absolute shit for not grasping that the multimillionaire scumbags her father hooked her up with were strangers who saw her as nothing more than a piece of ass. Believe me when I tell you Barclay didn’t give two shits what Bethany had to do to make his life better. He expected it of her, and she tried so, so hard to please that terrible son of a bitch. She had no one else. The worst of it is after Braden finished with her, she felt so dirty and terrible and worthless. She admitted to me years ago that’s how she always felt after sex. I hated Barclay for putting her in that position. But you know what? I loathe you even more right now because you just made her feel a hundred times worse than her father ever did.”

  I flinch, but his words still flay me open. “Don’t lecture me.”

  “You need to hear the fucking truth,” he roars back. “Finally faced with overwhelming evidence that her father had swindled all their clients, Bethany did the bravest thing she could, you righteous motherfucker. She took everything Barclay had stashed in her safe, prowled through every bit of it, including his electronic records she accessed via his password records. Then she made sure it all reached the FBI. That woman you think took everything from you, including your father? When they first arrested Barclay, the FBI only had circumstantial evidence. Bethany changed that. She’s the only reason Barclay Reed will be going to prison.”

  I stagger back. Stare. The words repeat themselves in my head.

  Oh, my god.

  “How do you know that for sure?”

  “Suspicious till the end?” He shakes his head. “My half sister, Nia, told me. Her husband, Evan, confirmed since Bethany asked him to provide the feds access to Barclay’s files on his private storage servers. I came to Maui because, like her, I’m having to deal with the sins of my father. And there are a lot of them, some I may never be able to forgive. But I also came because I knew Bethany was here and because I suspected she’d be hurting and need a friend. I intended to convince her that I didn’t blame her for Barclay getting Amanda pregnant. I’m pissed, but my sister is an adult. She knew exactly who he was. At least half this shit is her fault. My dad wouldn’t hear any of that. He went all V is for Vendetta on Bethany’s father. And now we’re in this fucking mess.” He shakes his head in disgust. “But I’ll take her from here. You go back to North Dakota, though I’d rather you burn in hell. And stay the hell away from Bethany. I’ll take care of her until the real Mr. Right comes along.”

  When Lund turns and makes his way across the sand, I barely notice. It’s all I can do to stay upright and process the bomb he just dropped on me.

  Maybe she’s duped him, too. It’s possible Stephen has all his facts wrong. But if he was too smart to buy my act, it stands to reason that he wouldn’t buy any Bethany put on, either.

  And what if Lund is right? What if Bethany is telling me the truth? What if I screwed up by letting my “logic” deep-six the gut instinct that told me she’s innocent?

  Fuck. Right or wrong, stupid or not, I’ve got to talk to her before Stephen takes her away. Before it’s too late. Before the woman I once swore was the best thing to ever happen to me leaves me for good.

  I dart up the beach and into the bar. Inside, Andy looks less than thrilled. Samantha glares my way. Ash is giving me a what-the-fuck side-eye. Lund is nowhere to be found. Ditto for Bethany.

  “Where did they go?” I look at my pal. If anyone will understand my need to find her and unearth the truth, it will be him.

  “Out the back door, to the parking lot.”

  I pull his keys from the pocket of my shorts as I take off in that direction. “If she comes back, keep her here and text me.”

  “Dude, I don’t think she’s coming back—ever.”

  Samantha’s glare only turns more glacial. “I don’t know what you said, but she looks absolutely devastated, you asshole.”

  If Bethany has been honest with me from the start, that makes perfect sense. If she hasn’t, why would she bother to put on an act to convince my pal and his kinda-sorta girlfriend that I’ve broken her heart? The obvious answer: she wouldn’t.

  Oh, fucking hell. Tell me I didn’t screw up this badly…

  But I can’t deal with Ash, Samantha, or any of the others right now. I have to see if I can catch Beth and Lund in the parking lot before they leave.

  Shoving my way out the double doors, I stumble onto the porch, under the rusting overhang. It doesn’t take more than a few seconds to scan the nearly empty lot. I never paid attention to what kind of car her guy pal drives, so I don’t know whether Lund has already taken her away. But I don’t see either of them hanging around.

  But I hear a sudden groan of pain. What the hell? I can’t see anyone, but it sounds as if it’s coming from around the corner of the building.

  “Shut up, Junior.”

  Barclay Reed. I’d know that patronizing voice anywhere.

  What is the fucker doing here? Even if only half of what Bethany told me turns out to be true, he’s a horrible father and an even worse human being. Ultimately, he had at least some hand—if not all—in swindling money that belonged to my father and all the other Reed Financial clients. I hate him. He deserves full punishment under the law. Since I came to Maui for justice, I should start with him.

  I’ll figure out how to feel about Bethany later.

  “Oh, my god!” She sounds horrified. “What did you do to Stephen? You could have killed him.”

  “So what? Listen to me, you ungrateful bitch. I gave you half your blood. I raised you. I educated you. I gave you valuable life lessons on a silver platter. And how did you repay me?”

  The wooden boards of the patio creak with someone’s every step. I try to ease closer silently.

  “Dad, put the bat down.” Bethany’s voice trembles.

  My eyes flare wide. Is the son of a bitch threatening her?

  “Don’t you back away from me,” he snarls. “I’m not going to use it on you unless you make me. Lund Junior just needed his mouth shut. Stupid prick. He’s soft and he’s weak if he thinks his father’s greatest sin is in not recognizing his illegitimate black daughter. As if anyone gives a shit about Nia… Stephen would be stupider than hell to disown his father and walk away from his inheritance because of one irrelevant female. If he does, that only proves he’ll never make it in the real world, and I’d certainly be doing everyone a favor by offing him. But that’s not why I’m here. You better explain why my attorney called me today to tell me the evidence the feds have against me is all the shit I stashed in your safe. Did you fucking turn me in?”

  “You planted that evidence in my apartment so the FBI could find it on my property and think I was guilty,” she returns incredulously. “What did you expect me to do?”

  “I had to have a backup strategy. I would have gotten you the best lawyers on the planet. At the very least, you would have only served a few years. You’re young. You could bounce back. I’m an old man.”

  “You’re not even sixty.”

  “That’s still too old to go to prison.”

  Holy shit. I won’t even ask what’s wrong with Barclay Reed. Obviously everything. Sure, he’s seemingly confirming everything Lund told me on the beach. But one thing is crystal clear—and far more important—right now: Bethany is in danger.

  I don’t care about the rest of the conversation. Sure, I have more questions. Eventually I’ll want to understand. But now I only care about keeping Bethany alive.

  Barclay having a baseball bat concerns the hell out of me. I can’t let him whack me unconscious like Lund or I’ll be no good to Beth. I need the element of surprise. Or I need help.

  Suddenly, I feel a heavy hand on my shoulder.

  Startled, I whirl and find Paul Daniels and his loud shirt behind me, holding a finger to his lips.

  He wants me to be quiet? Fuck that. I can’t leave Beth to Barclay’s mercy. He clearly has none because, just like she said, he’s a sociopath. He cares only about himself.

  I wrench from Daniels’s grasp, ready to charge forward, focused on how I’m going to stop Bethany’s father. This time, her former client wraps his beefy fingers around my arm and hauls me back and shoots me a silent, thunderous scowl before motioning me to be quiet again. Why? Is he looking to use the element of surprise against Barclay? Or Beth?

  Then he withdraws a 9mm pistol from his pocket and flashes me a terrible smile. My blood runs cold.

  Emphatically, I shake my head. He can’t hurt her. He can’t snuff Bethany Banks out of my life.

  I’m not ready to live without her.

  That realization blows me away, but I have to compartmentalize it for now and deal with the threat in front of me.

  “Run, Beth! Go!”

  Hoping like hell she can escape her father, I turn to face Daniels, prepared to stand between her and his bullet.

  The shorter man pushes me out of the way with a snarl. “Stupid son of a bitch.”

  As I hear pounding footsteps thundering off the porch and into the dusk, my shoulder bounces against the wall. I whirl toward Daniels, as Barclay comes around the corner with a killing glare all over his face—directed at me.

  Until he sees his former client holding the gun.

  He pales and holds up both hands, shaking his head. “Paul… I’m glad you’re here. You can help me make that little blond thief pay for all the pain she’s put us all through. She wants everyone to think I tried to frame her but—”

  “Fuck you, Reed. It’s over. I overheard everything you said. If anyone was set up, it was her. After all, you had no problem offering her to me as incentive to invest. Everything you’ve done is even more appalling now that I know she’s your daughter. What kind of father tries to destroy his own kid? And what kind of asshole steals the fortune a dying man wants to leave to his children? You deserve to rot in hell, you motherfucking scumbag.” Daniels raises the gun.

  “No!” Barclay pleads.

  “Don’t!” Suddenly, I hear Beth’s voice and look up to find her standing ten feet past her father’s shoulder. “He’s done terrible things, I know. And I’m sorry about your cancer. But we can’t take justice into our own hands.”

  The way I did.

  “Believe me, I thought about it,” she goes on. “Once I realized what he’d done to me, there were times I really wanted to, but his fate isn’t up to you. Or me. I didn’t want to throw away the rest my life for him. Do you? Honestly?”

  “My life is already over,” he growls.

  Daniels is going to pull the damn trigger. I can hear it in his voice.

  In that split second, I see Bethany lunging toward her father like she intends to do whatever it takes to save him. I can’t let her. Daniels isn’t going to mete out justice, but cold-blooded murder.

  I have a single instant to choose, but there’s no choice at all. I have to protect Bethany, even if that means her father dies. She must live.

  With a roaring leap, I tackle her out of harm’s way just as Barclay’s former client pulls the trigger.

  His shot shatters the quiet paradise. Nearby birds squawk and fly to the safety of the skies. Tourists in the bar scream. People charge out. And Bethany’s father crumples to the concrete in a bloody heap.

  Chapter Twelve

  “Are you all right?” I ask Bethany.

  It’s been hours since the shooting. Since her father died right before her eyes. Barclay Reed was a callous son of a bitch who died faster and easier than he deserved. After all, he’s the reason my own father is gone, and I’m fucking glad to see the justice I came to Maui for has finally been served. But that barely registers now. I’m focused on Bethany, on the horror and wrenching sadness she’s struggling through after watching the man she looked up to her entire childhood unexpectedly and violently take his last breath.

  “Fine,” she murmurs, not meeting my gaze.

  It’s a lie. She’s not fine. She’s not merely exhausted. She is emotionally spent.

  Besides Barclay Reed lying on a slab at the morgue, Stephen Lund suffered a blow to the head that resulted in a concussion. He’s in the hospital for observation, but should recover in a day or two. The police arrested Paul Daniels for murder, interviewed Bethany and me at length, then left with assurances that they’ll be in touch. I’m hoping she finds some consolation in that.

  A glance at my phone tells me it’s almost ten p.m. Through the evening, Ash brought us bottles of water. Samantha followed up with salads and appetizers, even a couple of scoops of ice cream, trying to tempt Bethany into eating. She refused every morsel and now looks ready to fall over. I’m worried about her.

  The woman has been through hell. In the span of an hour, I broke her heart and she lost her dad. Despite all that, she answered the detectives’ questions clearly and concisely. Her voice trembled, but she never succumbed to tears. I see them lurking now, needing release. Normally, I would put my arms around her and lend her my strength, encourage her to give me all her troubles. In fact, I’d love to. I’m desperate to. But she refuses to lean on me. Hell, she’s barely speaking to me.

  I have no one to blame but myself.

  I fucking wish I had a do-over on this entire afternoon. If I could go back, be honest with her about my identity, then ask questions before I accuse her of playing me, remind myself there are two sides to every story… None of that would save her father, of course. Paul Daniels was determined to have his pound of flesh and, once he heard the truth from Barclay Reed’s own lips, he was willing to go to prison to get it. Maybe that’s not a surprise since his days are numbered anyway. But I compounded her sudden loss with my lack of trust and utter betrayal. I thought I understood the situation, so I opened my big mouth and said all the worst things. I was so fucking wrong.

  How do we come back from this? Or can we? Did I destroy us forever?

  Despite those anxieties, I can’t not help when she looks so ready to fall over. “Sweetheart…”

  When I cup her elbow to lead her toward a chair, Bethany twists away. “Don’t touch me.”

  Sighing, I release her and step back, somehow managing to keep my hands off her. But it’s a fight. Touching Bethany, comforting her, feels so right.

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I say instead. “I know you and your father had a difficult relationship at the end, but it’s always painful to lose someone you love.”

  She wraps her arms around her middle as if she’s trying to give herself the fortitude to press on. “More than I probably should have. But he was a positive influence in my childhood. He made sure I never wanted for anything, he educated me well, and spent time with me. For that, I’ll always be grateful. I’m just in shock now. I’m sure I’ll grieve him and eventually accept that he’s neither the man I thought nor here with me anymore. Forgiveness for everything he did—to everyone—will take time.”

  True. It’s a small blessing that she’s already considering absolving him. If I’d forgiven sooner, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to pursue Bethany under false pretenses. And I wouldn’t have gotten my heart ripped out. I’m probably only getting what I deserve… But if she can eventually find mercy in her soul for her father, she’ll find peace. Of course, part of me can’t help but wonder if she might find it in her heart to forgive me someday, too.

  “The healing will happen when you’re ready,” I murmur. “And I know it’s a small consolation that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore—”

  “But an important one. At least now there will be no trial. Not having my name dragged through the mud anymore will be a relief. The truth can come out, and I can walk free from his shadow and move on with my life.”

  “Eventually, those will feel like positives.”

  Bethany turns to glare my way. “Yes, but don’t act like you care. I’ve already heard enough of your lies. I don’t need more.”

  “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  I sigh. “I’m really sorry, Beth. For everything I accused you of. For every lie I told you. For—”

  She holds up a hand. “It doesn’t matter now. You got the answers you came for. You got the justice you wanted. The will my father updated weeks ago in anticipation of his divorce becoming final leaves me everything. So hopefully, I’ll be able to track down what’s left of the victims’ stolen funds and return them to everyone, you included. Beyond that, you and I don’t have anything else to say. It would be best if you didn’t contact me anymore.”