That was my man. Now he needed this type of outlet.

  I sat on the stairs, able to see over everything and hear, and I leaned forward, my elbows resting on my knees as Logan did just what I knew he needed to do.

  He took the file from Mason, striding forward.

  Mason glanced around, then up, finding me. I could see the question in his gaze, looking me over, and I gave him a slight nod and smile in return. He gave me a mirrored nod before turning to what was unveiling before us.

  This was Logan’s forte. It was no longer Mason’s. I saw that much in the relief in Mason’s gaze.

  “—moronically getting fucked over by her.” Logan had started.

  James frowned, starting forward.

  Congo’s hand held him back. James was on a tethered rope, and he was allowed only so much space before it would retract back into place. Congo could not have cared less about what was happening, but his job was to hold onto James Kade until told otherwise. That’s what he was doing.

  James huffed, and asked in a scathing tone, “Do you mind?”

  Congo stared at him and blinked. That was all he did. He could’ve yawned, and his face wouldn’t have changed.

  “You got scammed, Pops.” Logan started reading from the file. “Tate Sullivan wasn’t just fucking you. She was screwing the CEO of Import Banking. Know Carlisle Scamponi?” He held over a picture. “Recognize him? Looks a bit like Evan and Owen, right? Carlis—wait, no—your sons?” Two more images were produced, and James winced as he saw them side by side.

  He paled with the first image.

  He paled more with the second two.

  “Also, according to this file, Tate’s been having a sexual relationship with a Benjamin William, and that will be important because guess where Billy works?” His usual cocksure smirk was firmly on Logan’s face. “The Fallen Crest Medical Labs. It’s where the paternity tests would’ve been done.”

  James was as white as a sheet. A slight draft could’ve knocked him over.

  Logan flipped the file around. Another picture was pinned inside. “She’s been banging him for eight years.” He stopped, pinned his dad with a stern look. “What’s she been asking for, Dad? I’m assuming money, but what else?”

  James had to pull his gaze away from the pictures back to Logan.

  He wasn’t so talkative now.

  He blinked, his body unsteady. “I need to sit down.”

  Congo and Bren moved in, both taking each of his arms and they walked/carried him into the kitchen. I had an even better view now. They put him in the chair that, if you looked up, you could see exactly where I was. The rest filed in after, and Logan glanced up, saw me, and winked.

  I loved my man.

  “What’s she been asking for, Dad?”

  He slumped over, shaking his head. “I had a paternity test done. It came back positive. They—” His head whipped up, he went from Mason to Logan. “They look like you both!”

  “Probably why she picked the guy she did.” That came from Mason, who was sounding more resigned than disgusted or pissed. “What’d she get out of you?”

  “Shares. In the company. For both boys. She—she was adamant. Threatened to tell Analise about the affair, make it sound like I’d had two families behind her back. I haven’t.” He was looking at both his sons for validation. “I didn’t. I didn’t do that. I didn’t know about the boys until eight months ago.”

  Eight months.

  Man.

  “I had the paternity tests done. They came back from the company, sealed.” His head hung back down. “She was on the phone with me, wanting me to put the boys in the will. Analise overheard. That’s how she found out. I—I was with her during those years when she would’ve given birth, but I didn’t know she’d even been pregnant. It was only a few times, that was all. After the last time, I went to therapy. I have. I...I do love Analise. We’re both flawed. I understand her, and she understands me, but this… I can’t lose her.”

  “Analise is the least of your problems, Dad,” Mason clipped that out. “Did you put them in the will?”

  “No. Everything blew up. I haven’t had a chance.”

  “How is Helen involved?” Samantha spoke up, moving forward. Her face was set too, firm and unrelenting when James turned her way. He grimaced, visibly shaken, when he saw her.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Da—”

  “I don’t know!” he cut off Mason before his gaze fell again. “I swear. I’m assuming Tate reached out. She’s been threatening to tell everyone. I’m guessing she started with Helen.”

  “Fuck that.”

  Everyone turned to Logan.

  He continued, “Fuck that. Mom knew, and she didn’t call us?” He glanced at his brother. “Mom knew.”

  Mason’s eyes widened. A normal person would’ve looked staggered from that statement. Not Mason. That was his only reaction—that his eyes widened. Then he cursed, long and low, and savagely.

  Malinda was the ‘mother’ of the group.

  Analise was Sam’s, and I barely spent time with her. Logan preferred to stay away when Analise was around, but there were times we had a holiday meal with her. She was quiet, always watching Sam, a timid air to her. The two interacted, but there was a fragile sense to them, to their relationship. I knew what happened in the beginning. Logan had shared everything, but a part of me watched Analise, and I’d felt a weird crestfallen sadness.

  In a way, Sam had a mom, but she didn’t at the same time.

  I ached for my mom—every day.

  Sam also ached. I could sense it from her, and she was hurting again. As she caught my gaze, we were both aching for our men.

  She’d been leaning against a wall, her arms crossed over her chest, but still holding my gaze, she pushed off slowly.

  I was standing at the same time.

  We were both on the same wavelength, and as she started to leave, Mason asked, “Where are you going?”

  Logan saw me moving. “Taylor?”

  Sam waited for me to come to the end of the stairs and answered for us. “We’ll be right back.”

  “Fuck no. I’m in on this.”

  Heather brought up the rear.

  We got one more surprise when we left the house.

  Bren came too.

  32

  Samantha

  I never wanted to do this. In fact, I had gone out of my way to steer clear of Helen.

  She was Mason and Logan’s mother. She barely raised them, though I knew both loved her. There had been touching moments, a few, but this was too much. To team up with Tate? To scam her ex-husband? For what? What cost?

  She hadn’t told Mason or Logan for one simple reason—she knew they’d find out the truth.

  I wanted to burn everything down around her. Her house. Her car. Her belongings. Whatever she prized most, I wanted it gone.

  There was a memory coming to me as we got in the car, all of us piled together in one, but the memory was mine.

  When I went with Mason and Logan. When they went to mess with Roussou’s football coach at the time.

  Roussou hadn’t been the town it became later. I knew it wasn’t bad or good, rich or poor, but I thought the town was doing okay. It turns out I was wrong. But my memory wasn’t about Roussou. It was about me, seeing my dad’s car, and being so angry.

  I knew what I did that night.

  I had that same urge right now, but I had nothing to lose back then. I had everything to lose now.

  I still wanted to do some damage. Maybe it was just in me, something that nothing could get out of me.

  “We have a plan?” Bren was the one driving.

  We had started for mine, but she whistled and motioned for us to follow her to a gigantic Jeep. Once inside, she shot off a text, and when it alerted back, she started driving. She was a bounty hunter, so we were in her world, to an extent.

  Taylor and Heather both looked my way.

  “Got any firecrackers?” It was a joke. Somewhat.

  Bren’s calm and steady gaze found mine. She was unblinking, like Congo in the house. “Flashbombs work?”

  “You guys can carry those?”

  Her eyes shifted to Heather, who’d asked the question, and she didn’t answer.

  Heather’s eyes got big. “Bren!”

  Bren’s phone went off, and she hit the button to read the text.

  A second later, another truck sped up behind us and then fell back, keeping pace.

  “That’s Z. He’s coming for backup.”

  Heather cursed. “This isn’t a situation where we’d need backup. Helen’s not a fugitive.”

  “Yet.”

  Bren went back to driving, though. She nodded to herself, taking a left turn. “So we don’t have a plan. Okay.”

  “No knives.”

  Bren’s calm eyes slid to Heather again. “Not in high school.”

  “I’m fully aware of that. You’re a little bit too chill right now. I know what you’re capable of.”

  The faintest glimmer of a smile showed before Bren went back to a blank expression, slowing and taking a right. We were nearing the house Helen used in Fallen Crest. Parking at the curb, she kept the doors locked.

  “You need a plan. You can’t go in there and start yelling.”

  Heather spoke for me, “You yell at fugitives.”

  Bren had been talking to me, but again, turned to her sister-in-law, inclining her head a little as she did. “All due respect, Heather, shut up.”

  Heather’s eyes almost bugged out now. “You did not just say that—”

  “You’re in my world.” Bren focused on me again. “I’ll reframe my earlier question. Yes, normally, I can yell at hoity-toities, but you cannot. You’re emotional. If violence breaks out, I’m inclined to let you hurt your mother-in-law, and I think since that’s your children’s grandmother, you might regret your actions later. Maybe. I won’t, but I’m trying to be a good sister right now for both Chan and Heather. So. What’s your plan?”

  I had nothing. “Yelling at her?”

  “Right. I’ll do the talking.” She hit the unlock buttons, and we all piled out.

  Her friend Zellman was already outside, leaning against his truck, his bounty-hunting vest on. He flashed us a grin, coming to fall in line with Bren. “Nice to see you ladies decided to join me. It’s a nice day for some ass-kicking.”

  Bren told him, “I’m leading this.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “What?” He stopped walking, then hurried to catch up. “Why you?” He gave us an uneasy look. “Uh, you guys sure about this?”

  “I’d like to either burn down her house or explode all of her vehicles,” I told him through gritted teeth. “So, yes. I’m sure.”

  Zellman froze before scanning over Heather and Taylor and then closed his eyes for a moment. “Okay then.”

  They both stepped up on the front porch. Bren was about to knock when her phone and her friend’s phones both went off. They paused, reading their screens, and then shared a look.

  “No shit.”

  A genuine smile lit up Bren’s face, and she glanced at me.

  I was taken aback.

  Channing’s sister was stunning with a sleek beauty to her, but she was also a little scary. The girl stabbed her principal because he touched her. And that was not an out-of-the-ordinary occurrence for her, but whenever she was around us, she was locked down. I figured it was how she was with anyone outside her group. I always felt she was a little like Mason in that regard, but seeing a genuine smile light up her face—I was speechless for a moment.

  Heather groaned. She was not speechless.

  “What just happened?” she asked, moving around.

  “Your girl has a warrant out for her arrest.”

  Heather blinked, staring at Zellman, who then flashed his phone screen at her.

  She gasped, grabbing it. “Holy shit! Holy shit!”

  She read it right before Zellman snatched it back, and then he and Bren got ready. They stepped off the porch.

  Bren was on a radio that I didn’t know she had.

  Heather turned fully around to me, shock slackening her face. “Tate was previously arrested in Vegas, and she missed court.”

  “What does that mean?”

  Taylor answered for her, “That means she’s a fugitive.”

  Bren was listening, glancing around. Her radio was crackling back, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying.

  “There.” Zellman and her must’ve been looking for someone. He patted her vest and pointed to a truck parked further down the street. The door opened. Someone was coming out. The door shut and… Oh, no. Mason would not be happy about this.

  His stalker was crossing the street, wearing a cocky smirk.

  Bren groaned. “He’s like the lint between your toes. You enjoy clearing them out but never know how the hell he keeps getting there.”

  He came over and stopped, scanning Bren up and down. “What’s up, Monroe? You gotta start admitting that you like me. It’s been too many years. Cross and Blaise are all good.”

  She growled, jerking her thumb to the house. “Zeke. You followed her here?”

  “I did. Put the word out. A buddy of mine saw her and gave me the heads-up. She’s still in there.”

  “Who else is inside?”

  Their radios both started going off, and Zellman stepped away, his head bending to listen.

  As he did, Zeke answered Bren, “I don’t know. Some old chick, and her.”

  “You don’t know who?”

  “Nope. You didn’t ask for that.”

  Bren deadpanned, “I want to hit you. Right now. Right in the forehead.”

  Zeke’s smirk just deepened. “But you won’t because you’ve grown fond of me. Admit it, Monroe. Admit it.”

  Heather stepped toward Zeke, barely containing a growl. He hadn’t noticed, nor had Taylor or I, and his eyes got bigger with each discovery, but Heather was in his face. He backed up. She went with him, and she lowered her voice, “I know who you’re fucking right now, and if you screw her over, I will end you in all things Fallen Crest and Roussou. You’ll have to go to Frisco to get gas, get food, get anything, and no one goes to Frisco anymore.”

  He didn’t reply, just swallowed. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down.

  Zellman came back. “Channing conferred with Hawk. We can take her, us two.”

  That was all Bren needed.

  She pointed her baton at Zeke. “Stay here, or I’ll use your proximity as an excuse to knock you out.”

  He stepped back, a wide step. His hands were up. “You got no qualms from me. I’m kinda terrified of this group now.” He was side-eyeing Heather, but he didn’t seem surprised by her threat.

  Bren went to the door first.

  Zellman was at her back, and he tapped her back.

  She pounded on the door, “Open up! This is New Kings Bounties. We’re looking for Tate Sullivan.”

  There was no response.

  She hit the door again, “OPEN UP! NOW!”

  The door swung open. Helen was there, and her mouth fell open. “What is going on—”

  Bren shoved past her, hitting the door open and almost taking out my mother-in-law on the way.

  I think I was in love with this girl.

  Zellman went right with her.

  Taylor.

  I started forward and heard from Zeke as I did, “What’s up, Mrs. Mason Kade?”

  Heather put the palm of her hand on his forehead and pushed him backward. “Go away.”

  He chuckled, but I ignored him and went inside, already hearing all the glorious yelling from the two people I wanted upset.

  Tate and Helen.

  Christmas came early.

  33

  Taylor

  I was running to catch up now because as soon as Bren shoved inside, someone went tearing through the house.

  “Z!” Bren barked, but she didn’t need to. Zellman sprinted past her. They split inside the house. Bren went left, and Zellman went right. Pounding footsteps could be heard outside, and a second later, there was a loud thud, and Bren was yelling again. “STOP RIGHT THERE! STOP!”

  Zellman sped around the other side of the house. He was moving to intercept. A beat later, a whole cacophony of shouting was heard.

  Heather and Samantha had stopped just past Helen, also trying to catch up.

  I moved first, going by them and right back outside. I reached into my pocket as I did.

  There, right there, the vision I was seeing was enough to make me come.

  Tate was on the ground, Bren pinning her down with a knee between her shoulder blades. Zellman put a zip tie around her wrists behind her, and she was sat up once that was done.

  Tate shoved up to her feet and started to run again.

  Bren rolled her eyes and grabbed her, sticking a hand in front of her legs, but she caught her shoulders and eased her back down. She maneuvered Tate, so she was sitting, cross-legged, and the whole movement had been seamless and professional. I was impressed.

  Zellman glared at her, standing in front of her. “Stay.”

  Tate glared right back.

  Zellman laughed. “Good dog.”

  Okay, not so professional with that comment.

  “Did you just call me a dog?”

  “Better than what I want to call you.”

  Bren was on her radio, and as Tate started struggling, trying to make another run for it, Zellman moved into her space, forcing her back down, or she would’ve needed to hit his body to get away again. She fell back to her butt with a huff, more glares.

  Seeing she was compliant, Bren moved a little further away, still on her radio.

  Helen stormed past everyone, going to the front lawn. She started for Zellman, pointing at Tate. “I’m going to get you arrested for this. You’re manhandling the mother of two of my grandsons.”

  “Actually,” Sam spoke up, following right behind her and going around so Tate could see her. “She’s not, Helen.”

  “What?”

  I narrowed my eyes because Helen moved closer to Tate as if to protect her.