It's a big blue Gulfstream jet that takes us to heaven, emblazoned with the Punch Corp logo on the tail. I've never been on a private plane before. Ryan teases me the whole way to Seattle. We share wine and coffee. I curl up next to him on the ivory sofa, only looking up when someone from the crew comes by to ask us if there's anything else we need.

The next three days are whirlwinds. He shuttles me around to the city's best restaurants, the art museum, and half a dozen awesome coffeehouses. I'm going to go home bursting with new ideas for Grounded.

He also shows me the places where he started his company, built it from the ground up with long hours, a little luck, and lots of networking with the right people. It's incredible to see what he's accomplished since his time in the garage. I wish daddy were here to see everything.

We've both forgiven daddy, now that the hard truth is out. He lied to me, left my heart in pieces, but there's no telling what I would've become if I'd known what happened sooner.

We've lost too much time looking back. Moving forward, that's what counts. There's a spring in my step every time I think about going home, clearing his name, and starting over.

The last day, we're coming back from Bainbridge Island, watching several kids chasing each other playfully on the deck of our ferry. I'm exhausted, but I can't remember the last time I was ever this happy.

Ryan clasps my hand as I lean into him. “Well, Kara-bou, what do you think?”

I give him a smile broader than the distant mountains. “It's a lot to take in, but I like it. Only thing that's missing out here is a lighthouse.”

“Armitage would be a great end to the day, no doubt. Lucky for you, I've got something better planned.”

Better? He won't tell me, won't even drop a hint, no matter how many times I beg between disembarking from the ship and getting into the car with our driver. He takes us across town, now dark and lit with a thousand tinsel lights. I still don't have a clue where we're going until the Space Needle looms large above us.

I'm excited. It's nothing compared to following him quickly through the park and taking the elevator up. In less than a minute, we're at the top of the world, staring down into the dark lights, and very alone.

“Who'd you shakedown to arrange this?” I ask, when we're standing out on the observation deck, me sinking into his embrace.

“I made a lot of donations in the right places last year. Consider this one of the perks. It's just you, me, the city, and a whole lot of night, babe. Nowhere else I'd rather be.”

We're quiet for a little bit, staring down at the beautiful scenery. I pull my coat tighter, leaning into him, steeling my body against the cold. It's such a spectacular view I forget the numbness fighting its way into my skin.

“God, this is beautiful. I don't want it to end.”

“It won't,” he growls, running his hand up my side, stopping with his fingers on my face. “I've danced plenty of times with the pretty lights and tall buildings down there. Built a name for myself that seems like it's got no limit. Wined and dined with rich men and women alike, politicians, lawyers, and geniuses who all wanted to shake my hand and welcome me to their world.”

His chest vibrates gently against my ear. I love the deep, rich sound of his voice. It's a soothing echo I could listen to forever.

He turns my face up, bathing me in his ocean blue eyes, now reflecting the Seattle night's glories above and below us. “I didn't do any of this for anybody or anything down there, majestic as it is. Right now, I'm looking at the only thing I've ever cherished. This view's so beautiful I'm going to take your lips to remind me I haven't died and gone to heaven.”

Neither of us hesitates. He kisses me hard, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth, grazing it with his teeth.

It's salty, possessive, and so fucking hot. It's the kiss I've needed my whole life, the kind of kiss that ruins me, because I'll never accept another that's weaker than this.

I turn in his arms, wrap my hands around his neck, and urge his tongue into mine. Six hundred feet in the air, the wind at my back, and I'm still sweating in his rock hard arms. Having him up here in his suit, both of us looking down on the world like royalty, brings me an extra thrill when I imagine the freaky, intricate ink underneath beneath his clothes.

That's the ink I want to be tangled up in forever, especially tonight, when he brings me back to his condo and fucks me senseless.

I think I'm addicted. It only takes a few more furious kisses before I'm moaning into his mouth, spreading my legs and grinding against his knee, aching a little more every second he isn't buried inside me.

It would be perfect, if only it weren't for the hammer hanging over our heads. I think about the mess back home, and my kiss wilts the next time he comes back for more, his hands gliding down my back to cup my ass.

“What's wrong, Kara-bou?” He looks at me, lust and concern churning on his gorgeous face.

“Tell me you've thought about what I suggested last night,” I say, gently pulling away from him. “You know, about bringing in Matt?”

“Your brother's got no love for me, and I don't blame him,” he says, taking me by the hand. We walk to the other side of the observation deck, where we can see the ocean below, its blackness only broken by stabs of light from the ships streaming across it every few minutes.

“Look, I know it's not his fight. He's got his own problems, and you don't want to bring him into it when he hates your freaking guts.” I sigh, wondering what combination of words I can use to reason with him. “But it's the best chance I think we've got to clear you, Ryan. Do it with him and mom first, and then the whole town will listen. I don't care what kind of influence the Drayton's have. Even Sheriff Dixon won't arrest a decorated Marine for showing him the truth.”

“That's what I like about you, babe,” he says, after several tense seconds. “You're always cutting straight to the root. If your family hasn't squealed on me yet, then there's something holding them back.”

“Damn right,” I snap, tightening my fingers in his grip. “I'll invite them to Grounded. We can all sit down in a safe place and talk. Bring the copies you have of the page you saved from Nelson's folder. Matt's a good man, Ryan. He'll stop being a hothead lined up against you as soon as he sees the evidence.”

Sighing, he nods. “I'll tape it to my chest before he knocks my teeth out. Don't get me wrong, babe. I'm confident I can take on any man, but I've got no desire to talk to your crazy Marine brother using fists again. Congratulations – you've talked me into the impossible.”

“I'll call him as soon as we're on the tarmac back home tomorrow, then.” I'm holding him to it. I won't let up for a single second because I can't stand the thought of losing him again, especially if Matt or mom try to turn him in before hearing us out.

“Yeah, and I'll put my statement out to corporate, soon as it hits the sheriff's office. Everyone in Seattle, Split Harbor, and Marquette is going to want to know why the hell Tanner is suddenly Ryan.”

“Won't it feel good to be who you are?” I run my nails against the nape of his neck, loving how his muscles bristle under my fingertips.

“Not half as good as this.”

The instant his lips touch mine, I know he's right.

This is explosive. Outrageous. Divine.

When we're alive and electric and touching like this, I don't care what he calls himself. I've known this man by his heart, deeper and truer than any name.

Each flick of his tongue against mine comes like fire, honest and enticing, leaving every nerve in my body begging for more. When I move in to get it, trying to press my mouth against his firm jaw line, he lifts me away, beaming his gaze into mine.

“You've made me happier than I've got any business being,” he says, pressing his forehead down on mine. Icy excitement runs up my spine, and it's got nothing to do with the cool night breeze lashing us from the east. “I'm still going to ask you two things.”

“Yeah?” I whisper, trembling in his arms. Whatever it is, it's going to be enormous.

Despite my expectations, I'm not prepared for the shock when he reaches into his pocket, plucks something out, and sinks to his knees. He takes one hand in both of his. It's a serious grip, almost painful in its intensity.

“Kara, we're going home tomorrow,” he says, lifting one leg so he's crouching. “We're clearing up the shit I did, setting the record straight, and then I never want to think about it again. I don't want to dream about the five years we lost, or wonder how much worse it could've been if I'd come back too soon, too late, or not at all. I want to live every day with you by my side, babe. I need you living, breathing, and loving by mine. All those years ago, I gave you a cheap ring, one it took me two months to save. This one's got a price tag a whole lot higher, but it's the heartbreak and sweat that's the real reason it's expensive. I meant to hold out for this, love, just a little while longer. But hell, deep down...I'd be a fool to wait another day.”

The tiny purple box in his hand springs open. My jaw nearly hits the floor. I'm frozen in place, staring at a ring studded with so many rocks it's probably worth more than a small nation.

“Ryan...”

“Marry me, Kara. Marry me again. Truth is, I'm impatient. Can't stand holding your hand around town, or feeling it running down my back when it's bare. Empty. I need to feel this ring where it belongs. Need you loving it, loving me, wearing the finest mark I can put on you forever.”

I'm too numb to speak. I just fall down with him, so much like the first time he ever asked, crashing into his arms. We're laughing, rolling on the floor of the Space Needle's observation deck, wind rushing through our hair.

He takes me in his arms, rolling me over, pressing his mouth down on mine while his hand pushes the ring into my palm. My fingers close around it, trying to bend around his. In just a few seconds, the gold warms on my skin, and I know this is right.

Call the timing insane. But it couldn't be clearer.

He alternates between my mouth and kissing away the hot, chaotic tears rolling down my cheeks. Ryan's weight presses down, down, his hand brushing up beneath my dress. He groans when his fingers find the spot, feeling how wet I am.

“I need to be in you, wife,” he rumbles.

Wife?

God, yes.

“Right here. Right now. That's the second thing I had to tell you tonight.” His voice drops an octave, so low it reverberates in my bones. Adding new warmth, an electric energy sweeps through me as surely as it does when his bulge presses on my swollen center through our clothes.

I don't resist when his hands start pulling down my dress. It's gone a few seconds later, and my panties zip down my legs, disappearing in the mess next to us.

His fingers brush my clit, and I'm panting.

Lust hits so fast and hard I barely recognize the sound of his belt coming undone, the shuffle of his trousers coming down to expose his pierced, perfect cock.

Cool air drifts around us. I sit up and grab his length, bending down so I can take him in my mouth.

“Yeah, baby. Sweet fuck.” He inhales roughly, making me smile when I push my tongue beneath his pulsing tip. “There. Right there.”

The soft, warm underside of his cock becomes my target. Pressing my tongue into him, my fist pumps its rhythm, loving the heat in his heavy balls every time they pucker.

He grunts again, drawing another tense breath when he notices my fist. His hand reaches out, wraps around mine, and I suck him harder. He sees the new ring.

“You're wearing it now?” Lust and amusement make his eyes glow. “Fuck, babe, I think you've just shown me the prettiest sight in the world.”

I'm smiling inwardly while I'm sucking him. My tongue rolls deep, lips tightening each time I take his length up and down, desperate to make him explode down my throat.

Of course, he's right. I can't imagine anything that gets me hotter than knowing how much he's enjoying my hand on his cock, the brand new gold and diamonds looped around my finger.

His cock brushes my tongue again and again, growing hotter and harder all the time. Growling, his fingers mesh through my hair, shielding them from the wind, adding new heat when he pulls it taut.

“Love you, Kara-bou. So fucking much.”

So fucking much. The sweet phrase echoes in my head, heartwarming as it is naughty thanks to the tension in his voice. Not to mention how he bucks up a second later, filling my mouth with as much as I can take, groaning like he's coming undone.

Swelling, overloaded, and lost somewhere between love and lust, he's coming.

His hot, thick essence erupts a second later.

The man I love thrashes, grunts, and spills his seed in my mouth faster than I can swallow it. I take everything I can. The next sixty seconds are more than just a blowjob ending.

I'm worshiping my future husband, the man I was always meant to marry, who's lifted me up over and over again. There's forgiveness and hope, disguised in sweltering heat.

His come is running out the corner of my lips when his fist in my hair softens, turning to loving strokes instead. I'm going to be a mess by the time we get out of here.

My stomach growls, reminding me there's more than desire begging to be satisfied. I guess we're ordering in tonight after this.

I don't care. Nothing else matters except how he holds my face, brushes away the trickle I couldn't swallow with his thumb, and then comes in for a kiss.

His other hand finds mine, takes it, and squeezes the ring he's been dying to put there. We kiss for what seems like forever, until he breaks off, staring at me with fresh hunger in his eyes.

“Stand up, and bend the fuck over,” he says, guiding me as he brings me to the railing, lifting my hips. “There's more than half a million people down there, going about their lives. Any one of them might look up, spot us moving in the dim light, and wonder. I want them all to know we're in love, babe. They're going to see how you twitch, flail, and scream when my balls hit your clit.”

“Oh, God. Ryan...”

Everything he's suggesting makes me wetter than before, even if my mind is screaming every insecurity I've ever had about sex and good manners.

They're silenced the second he pushes into me from behind. His cock sinks in, drives deep, and anchors with my ass against his warm, hard body.

His heavy breath falls against my ear before he speaks. “First time we're fucking in front of an entire city. Take a good, long look out there when I'm owning every inch of your sweet pussy, love.”

I obey, his willing slave as his hands grip my ass, and his cock starts slamming into me.

Several thrusts in, I forget all about the people down below. It's an incredible sight, the vast cityscape blurring before my eyes, melding with the rush, the heat, the ecstasy.

His teeth graze my neck, sink down to my shoulder, and take hold. It causes me to straighten, an angle which takes him deeper. Each thrust slaps my body again and again, pushing me a little closer to bliss.

Ryan's hand takes my breast, finds my nipple underneath my blouse, and squeezes it hard. I'm going over his cock again and again, taking him, losing my mind when that bead planted in his tip rubs the right places.

I won't last long.

I can't.

Fireworks explode in my brain when I go over. He fucks me harder when he feels my pussy clenching, and then he's grunting in tune to my moans, swelling and spilling his come.

We go off together, two shadows moving in the night. Our love, our sex, stands against the blackness, the cold, and every inhibition.

There could be dozens of eyes on us now, maybe someone with a telescope who can see everything, and it doesn't fucking matter.

Nothing else does in this moment except having him fused to me, emptying his fire, pinching the finger with his ring a little harder each time his hips crash against mine.

I come down from the insane high shaking. He turns me around, drags my hands around him, and makes me open my eyes with another kiss.

“We're picking this up at my place,” he says, running the stubble on his cheek against my skin. “Then we're crashing until morning. Come light, we're heading home, handling everything we need to, and finding a place to settle down. Soon as my name's cleared, I want our wedding date in all the local papers.”

No words can adequately tell him how bad I want everything he's promised.

So, I just press my mouth on his instead, huddling against him for warmth, hating that I have to get dressed before he rips my clothes off all over again.

* * *

Another magic night passes. We end our time in Seattle with sex, sleep, and coffee, watching the sunrise peek through thick clouds threatening rain.

It's been a marvelous time, but I'm ready to go home. Ready to get back to my business, fix everything that's kept us apart, and start planning a future with the man I love.

We're both tired from last night. Huddling underneath a blanket, we doze on the jet ride, sleeping through most of the three and a half hour trip to Michigan. When I open my eyes, he's got his face propped up with one hand, looking at me through the golden haze coming through the windows.

“Perfect timing, beautiful. We're about to touch down.”

Sitting up, I rub my eyes, falling back into him a moment later. Tucking my face into his shoulder, his arm goes around me, and I wish I could stay here forever.

It's him I breathe, inhaling his calming, masculine scent.

He holds me tighter. It's hard to believe we're together again.

I can't believe he held on after all these years. His heart stayed true, even when I gave up, tried like hell to move on with my life because I believed the worst about him.

Next time I open my eyes, the plane is almost on the runway. I'm clenching his hand, staring intently into the eyes I love, the ones that strip me bare to my heart over and over.

“I'm sorry I ever doubted you,” I whisper. “The first night you came to me, when I was at home with Holden, I almost turned you in.”

“I don't want apologies, Kara-bou,” he says, taking my hand warmly in his. “I want to rebuild. Soon as we're on the ground, we're getting to work building the life we always deserved. The one we had robbed away by circumstance, plus one evil bastard.”

He's right. There's no sense looking back, holding onto the pain in my heart, whether I'm hurting over something that happened a couple weeks ago, or four years, during my darkest days.

I'm too close to him when the plane hits the ground. We knock heads gently and I pull away, giggling. His hand goes down my thigh, rubbing with a stroke that's teasing and loving. Every time he touches me, there's more complexity than anything with Reg.

How did I do it? How did I nearly marry the wrong man?

It's not just my new found hate that's making me wonder. I haven't heard from the asshole, despite the movers coming through our old place while we were gone.

The town's probably in full gossip mode already, if they've heard the wedding is off. If not, they will be soon. They'll have plenty of red meat when they find out the truth about Ryan and Split Harbor's fallen hero, Nelson Drayton.

An attendant tells us we're about to disembark. Ryan kisses me before helping me stand, leading us to the little staircase they've rolled down to the tarmac.

I'm still smiling, lost in his kiss, and halfway down the stairs when I see the cherry-blue lights. One glance, and I know there's something terribly wrong.

Ryan stops on the last step, his hand clenching the railing tight. There must be half a dozen black security vehicles surrounding the plane, their lights flashing an evil contrast to the morning's gold.

“Ryan Caspian – alias, Tanner Brooks?” A large man with a goatee speaks as he approaches us. He's dressed like a secret service agent.

Ryan nods, ignoring me behind him. He's standing like the entire world is about to come down on his head. The man never stops moving, ignoring the fear building in my eyes. I'm so shocked I can't even scream when he grabs my love, throws him to the ground, and throws handcuffs around his wrists.

“You're under arrest for the murder of Nelson Drayton. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and may be used against you in a court of law...”

No. My brain is on fire. No, no, no, no, no!

I stumble back against the railing, catching myself. Clenching the cold steel is the only thing that stops me from keeling over. My knees shake, spreading numbness through my body, watching as he's hauled away in handcuffs.

Several other people move through the special agents ringing the plane. A man steps up, grabs me, pulls me off the last step. I don't start screaming and beating his back with my fists until I recognize his voice.

“Come on, Kara. Let's get you home. Reg told me everything.” Matt locks me in his Marine grip, and carries me toward the small gaggle of people waiting below. “Can't believe the motherfucker thought he could brainwash you like this. He's going away for a long damned time, don't you worry.”

“Reg? He's lying!” My hands pound into my brother's back repeatedly, too weak to dent his hardened frame. “Matt, don't do this. Please, fuck, you can't. You don't know what he's done. You don't know Reg is lying.”

He isn't listening. He just holds me, ignoring every punch and kick, hauling me away from the plane. I stop hitting my brother for a second to look over his shoulder, just in time to see Ryan staring out the tinted window.

He's shaking his head, his eyes narrowed. They're sad, angry, and imploring me to stop. Don't hurt yourself, baby. This is my fight.

When the dark SUV pulls away a second later, I'm screaming. My brother releases me slowly, and I slide down to the ground, sobbing. My brain hasn't stopped spinning before I see the familiar, polished black shoes hovering close to me.

I look up slowly, and see the asshole who's twisted my brother into helping him do the unthinkable. Reg stands there, calm and expressionless as ever, staring down at me like the ant I've become.

“I'm sorry it has to come to this, Kara-bell,” he says, using an old pet name he has no fucking business speaking ever again. “I couldn't let him get away with it. The lies, the bullying, accusing me of...of cheating. You were hanging out with a murderer, Kara. He killed Uncle Nelson.”

His voice cracks on cue. He stumbles. Like he's practiced it about a hundred times in the mirror, no different than one of his speeches to business associates. Staring through my hatred and confusion, I see the bandage conveniently plastered on his cheek, covering the edges of a bruise that looks more like a special effect than a real injury.

“Asshole. You heartless, depraved lunatic!” Words and fists fly simultaneously, but they don't do anything to soothe the anger ripping out of me. I strike him on the kneecaps several times before he backs away.

He's retreating, just like the coward he is.

I never expect him to lunge when I keep crawling after him. Usually Reg runs when he's under siege, but not this time.

He tackles me to the ground, pinning my wrists down on the pavement. We're face-to-face with a gaggle of people screaming around us.

“Told you I wouldn't walk away, you little idiot,” he hisses beneath his breath. “As soon as I found out who he was, I got your family on the line. Had a feeling they'd know exactly where you'd gone with the jackass who wanted to put me in a coma.”

I'm too stunned for words. I just look at him, my hatred overflowing, and mouth the only words I ever want to say to this pathetic, spiteful man again.

“Fuck you.”

He smiles. “That's all right, Kara-bell. You've fucked yourself over enough for both of us. See, Drayton's do more than cuss and complain: we bury anybody coming after us.”

More screaming. Reg has just enough time to change his sinister smile into a sad one as he's jerked up. Arms slide under me, hauling me to my feet, dragging me away from him.

I'm screaming, spitting, cursing him the entire time. I must look totally insane, and I don't care.

“Kara, come on!” Matt wraps me in a bear hug so tight it's hard to speak, squeezing me until my fight runs out. “Have you lost your mind? I know you're mad at him because Ryan told you some shit he shouldn't have. He was lying, Kara. You need to calm down. Clear your head. Then we can all sit down, talk about this, and set the record straight. We'll bring in the shrink you two've been seeing. I love you, sis. I'm here for you. God knows, we all are. However long it takes to get you through this.”

How about forever, jackass? I can't do more than think it.

I'm too tired to fight more, much less scream. My brother holds me, rubbing my back, doing his damnedest to calm me down.

Mom appears at his side a second later. She's whispering in my ear, squeezing my other shoulder, telling me what a monster Ryan is for coming back to this town after all these years to play with me. He thought he could get away with his lies, as if he wouldn't get caught. He was wrong, she says.

Wrong. The same bitter word, echoing in my ears. False by its own definition.

How can they be so blind? They don't even know they've made a deal with the devil.

I have to fight my way out of my family's consoling grip to face the asshole who's turning his back on me, hiding a faint smile. “We're going to bring you down! If I have to testify myself against you, bankrupt every business with your family's name on it, God help me, I will. You're a fucking monster, Reg.”

“Honey, please.” Mom's hold tightens. “Matthew, get her to the car. We'll call him later.”

They're murdering me. Driving every knife I've always feared in deep, bleeding me out as they pull me away and push me into Matt's big truck. It's their fault this is happening, and they don't even know it.

Little Holden isn't even waiting in the truck to soften the blow. Probably a good thing, since I wouldn't want my nephew seeing me like this.

I lay against the seat and cover my eyes. The soft yellow sun that seemed so nice when we first stepped off the plane blinds me now.

There's a million questions gouging me inside. A million and one things I want to do to set him free, and make my soulless ex pay for ruining my life a second time.

But I can't think of anything coherent. The thing I see when I close my eyes – the only thing – is Ryan's tormented face behind the tinted glass.

Betrayed, tortured, but still dead set on keeping me out of his mess.

* * *

I don't say anything for several hours. Mom guides me to my old room, now one they only use for guests. Matt sits outside it in the kitchen, playing guard dog, while I hear her make several calls across town.

She's talking to the police, giving them some kind of statement. It doesn't bother me until her voice fades out later. She's whispering in her lowest tone, talking to the man who lied, cheated, and ripped me away from the one I really wanted.

Reg, I'm going to kill you, I vow, folding my hands.

Actually, I don't want his blood anywhere on my hands. I don't even want to look at him again, but not half as much as I just want to end him. I'll settle for getting Ryan free, running his twisted family out of this town, and never having to see his manipulative face again.

“Sis, you need anything?” Matt knocks gently on the door. “Water? Sandwich? We want to bring you out to talk to us shortly. It's time to clear the air.”

He's on guard, but he's talking to me like a brother again, rather than a soldier barking orders. The knot in my stomach doubles when I think about him believing he's doing the right thing. Both of them. They believe they're saving me from a murderer, a liar, and they're completely clueless about the real ones hiding in plain sight.

“I'm ready,” I say weakly through the door.

I open it a second later, and my big brother lays his hand on my shoulder, guiding me down the hall to our old kitchen. The table used to be so full and happy. It's the same one we sat at with daddy and Ryan in the old days, before the hate and the lies, before I had the world ripped out under me several times over.

It's a miracle there's anything left of my mind to sit down with them today. I don't know how I can bring them around, make them believe Reg cheated, lied, and it's the dead Drayton patriarch who's responsible for everything bad.

I don't have a clue, but I have to try.

“Honey, before we say anything, I want you to know we're not here to put you on trial. We've seen firsthand how much he hurt you over the years, how hard it was for you to believe the truth about him leaving. You didn't do anything wrong. He came to you when you were weak, pretending to be someone new. We don't blame you for thinking he was more than a murderer, or the man who broke your heart.” She reaches across the table, grabbing my hand. “Look, it hurts us, too. We hate having to relive everything, him putting our family through this all over again.”

“Ryan deserves to be locked the fuck up, and I'm going to make it happen,” Matt growls next to me, banging his fist on the table.

Mom flashes him a disapproving look. “It took us several days to tie it all together after your brother saw him with you that night. Honestly, it's insane that he's built this wealth and fame, after everything he's done. When we realized who Tanner really was, and knew you were missing...we called the sheriff's office last night. Told him everything we knew. I think there's a lot more we can offer, several missing pieces we got from Reg, but we want to hear the rest from you. We want your side of what happened, Kara.”

Bull. They're both going to hate the truth, and start to hate me for denying what they think he really is.

I've had enough with words. They haven't done anything to protect me, push Reg away, or banish the endless nightmare Ryan and me tried so hard to run away from.

They're staring when I pull out my phone. I'd almost forgotten I asked him to send me the pictures halfway through our Seattle trip, when we were knocking around ideas to fix this.

Thankfully, I didn't.

“You should both take a look at this, and tell me what you see.” I slide the phone across as soon as I pull it up.

Mom's eyes go huge and dark when she sees the screen.

Showing my own family the disgusting pictures of my ex in those compromising positions with his little mistress is the last thing I want. But it's the last, best option that might make them believe there's more to this than they think.

“Is that...Jesus.” She can't even say the name. She's looking at Amy, the double crossing bitch of a wedding planner, strapped to the chair half-naked. She flips forward. When she sees King Asshole, Reg himself, she gasps, dropping the phone against the table's surface with a clatter.

Matt doesn't wait for her to pass the phone. He reaches out, snatches it, and eyeballs everything. Hatred, then confusion, fills his eyes.

“No fucking way,” he whispers, turning it over and slamming it down a moment later. “Where did these come from?”

“Ryan. He caught them cheating himself, at a hotel in Marquette. I wasn't sure either, until I saw the pictures.” I give Matt a sharp look. “These aren't staged. Yes, he burst in and roughed them up a little. Reg deserved it after everything he did to me. I don't feel bad for him, and I never will. Now that you've seen the truth...are you still going to call me crazy? Pretend I'm just 'brainwashed' by a man I'll never get over?”

Matt hardens his look, and swallows something heavy in his throat. “Sis, you and Reg have got serious problems, and it's not all bullshit. I'll give you that. Still doesn't let him off the hook for everything else.”

“No, it doesn't. And he explained to me exactly what happened that night.” Their eyes glue to me, waiting for my story. “He didn't kill Nelson Drayton. Not by himself, anyway...”

I spend the next ten minutes recounting Ryan's story as best I can. It probably doesn't have the emotional impact, or all the details, because I feel like I'm about to melt into a puddle.

I hate having to face them like this, explain how daddy forced himself into something so heinous because he had no choice. He thought he was protecting me, protecting us, even protecting Ryan.

Ryan didn't have a choice either. That's the point I keep trying to make, when I tell them how Nelson backed him into a corner, demanded he turn over those disgusting pictures he found, threatened to bring down our family.

“You know that happened anyway,” Matt says, shaking his head in disbelief. “You've bought into a sick goddamned joke, Kara. He'll say anything to have you back, make you think he's really on your side. Dad told me he burned a bunch of rough nudie magazines he found shortly after stumbling over Nelson's body. Said he thought Ryan left them out, and Nelson stumbled across them. Probably threatened his job since the man was a total prude. Dad threw the evidence on the fire because he didn't want the police coming after the other employees, thinking they had a beef with the old man.”

“Jesus, Matt, can't you see he lied?” Tears come hot and merciless when I say it, slapping my hands against the table. There's no worse truth than knowing what a liar daddy was. “He lied to us all. And he didn't have a choice, not when he knew better than anybody how much the Draytons own this town. He didn't burn any magazines. You're insane if you think Ryan killed a man over finding his porn stash. Ryan found Nelson's dirt, and there's no way on earth that man was any kind of prude. Drayton wanted to hide it. They're good at that, burying their secrets, and then threatening anyone who gets in their way.”

I'm still fuming over Reg kicking me straight in the ass one more time. The look he gave me as my family dragged me away, smug and self-assured...it was gotcha personified. He fed them a story about how he loved me, wanted to bring me back to my senses, knowing they'd find out the truth.

He used them, abused their trust, thinking he'd just walk away quietly after his humiliation.

Matt shakes his head again, grumbling to himself. “Look, sis, you convinced me on Reg because you've got evidence. Ryan...that's another story. Unless you've got something proving what you said, it's your word against dad's.”

My brother looks at me, hurt swelling in his expression. “Dad wasn't in love with the fuck who left you out in the cold for half a decade. He saw Ryan as he really was, the orphan kid, knew he had problems none of us saw before they hit us in the face. You aren't telling me anything different, unless you're going to magically dig up whatever got burned in the fire pit.”

Sighing, I pick up my phone. I flip through my gallery again, and come to the snapshot I took of the rumpled page Ryan showed me last week, the one with the names and contacts.

“There's a man on there, Edgar Wollenshem. Look him up. You'll find out he's already doing time for getting busted in the sex trade. The others, I don't know, but I believe they're traceable. Ryan certainly did. He's been waiting years to go after them, whatever it takes to clear his name, and bring the Draytons down.”

Matt's face twitches. He averts his eyes, looking away from the image I'm pushing in his face. “Wishful thinking, Kara. He could've done the research and typed this list up himself. Doesn't prove a damned thing. Hell, I've been in rooms with men overseas who've always got the best excuses in the world for killing our troops, plus men, women, and children in cold blood. They're never responsible for the bombings – oh, no. It's always some neighbor, the merchant down the street from a rival clan, anyone they think they can frame and pin the fucking blame on.”

“Matthew...” Mom speaks up, eerily quiet up until now. “You can't write it off that easy.”

We both do a slow turn, fixing our gaze on her.

“Why?” My brother rumbles.

“Because I lied.” Her lips twist like she's bitten into something bitter. “Bart told me he helped Ryan escape. It was about the time he was diagnosed, when he came home from the hospital that cold, snowy winter.”

She pauses, closing her eyes. “He knew his outlook wasn't good. There was something on his chest. One night we stayed up late, drinking cherry wine, talking about the old times, good and bad. We were laughing, remembering how big and beautiful our family used to be, before the ugliness with Ryan. He got real quiet, teared up a little, and looked at me, said he had something important to say.”

Something dark, thick, and angry wells up inside me. I want to believe she's lying, missing details, or didn't have the whole truth from dad.

Because if both my parents knew, all these years...

My hands form fists on my lap, tightening as we listen to her talk. “Kara, it's my fault. Not his. He made me promise on his life not to say anything. What he burned in that pit wasn't ordinary porn. It was everything you said...dark, demented, evil stuff that shouldn't have ever see the light of day. He talked about how he found Ryan passed out, Nelson struggling to his feet, a horrible wound on his head...he did what he had to. He put a sick, wretched man out of his misery. And then yes, Jesus, he helped our Ryan escape.”

I'm going to be sick. I'm about to heave up what little is left in my stomach from a whole day not eating, but not before I stand up, gripping the back of my chair, and look her in the eye. “Why, mom...why the fuck did you lie?”

A single, painful tear rolls down her cheek. “He told me there wasn't any way to bring the boy back, and frankly, I agreed. I understood the danger, imagined the ways it would ruin our family, worse than it already has, messing with the Draytons. I swore I'd protect you from Ryan Caspian, honey, and that's all I've tried to do, even today. It hurt to turn him in. I didn't know about the cheating. I wanted to believe Reg was different, good for you, that you'd moved on with your life and wanted to marry him. He told me how Ryan burst in, beat him up, said he should never, ever come near you again. Honey, he cried...”

Fire scorches my veins, imagining how the manipulative piece of shit I almost married twisted the knife deep in all our backs.

“And you listened to his tears? The same ones from a man whose family fortune should be going straight to his Great Uncle's victims?”

“I-I'm sorry. I thought he was better. I thought maybe your father was wrong, that Ryan was bad for you, too damaged by everything that happened. Reg was going to be the one to make you happy.” She looks down, crushed. I can practically see the gaping hole ripped in her by the truth – all of it. “I just wanted to protect you. Never wanted to see you ruining this family, or ruining yourself a second time, chasing after a man who's always going to be a walking target. They'll put him away for good when they find out. It breaks my heart, falling for Reg's story, knowing that poor young man is going to jail.”

I hear the pain in her voice, but I don't have any sympathy. “He's a billionaire, mom. Richer than the Draytons, probably. He can fight fire with fire. We came home to clear his name, for Christ's sake, and now you've both ruined it. All because you had to listen to that lying prick.”

My hands go up in the air and blood hits my temples. I can't do this anymore. I'm heading for the closest door, ignoring mom's breakdown, her wails echoing through the whole house.

“Kara!” Matt yells after me. I don't stop, refusing to look at him when I'm out on the driveway, calling a co-worker for a ride.

I'm heading back to my condo, and then I'm going straight to the sheriff's office. He'll probably lock me up on orders from Reg's family, or have me committed to a psyche ward, but I don't care.

It's not going down this way. I won't let it end like this.

Matt grabs me by the shoulder. I spin so fast I drop my phone. My palm doesn't stop, heading straight for his face. I hit him at least three times as hard as I can before my brain starts working again, and I stumble back, hating every blinding second of this.

My brother's hand reaches up, touching the burn on his cheek. No, he doesn't deserve this, he's just trying to help.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” I whimper, folding my arms around myself, turning my back.

“Sis...I deserved it. Didn't listen. I got taken for a ride by that piece of shit when I really shouldn't have, just like mom.” He shuffles up behind me, standing so he blocks the wind nipping at my back. “I owe you an apology. Everything you said sounded crazy. I never thought in a million years dad would lie to me, lie to all of us, and mom would back him up.”

“Yeah, well...now you get how I feel. But you'll never understand it, not if you try till Holden's half-grown.” I look down, kicking a stray rock across the pavement. It helps me fight the urge to burst into tears. “You put him away, Matt. You didn't mean to, but you did. You, mom, and Reg's fucking lies.”

“I don't need to understand,” he says, laying a hand on my shoulder. “Before everything went to shit, I cared about Ryan. He was my best friend. Still might be, knowing what really went down, or near enough. We're going to get him out of there.”

I refuse to look at him until he nudges my arm, turning me around. After everything that's happened, it seems impossible that I'd ever get a friend in this fight.

“This isn't your fight. Mom and dad weren't exaggerating about the danger we're putting ourselves in, even if they were wrong with how they handled it. I can't let them come down on you and Holden. Let me do this, alone.”

“Sis, you're looking at me and seeing your big brother. Guess it's too easy to forget I've been overseas for four years, dealing with brutes who make the Draytons look like a damned joke. You need me, however much you don't want to hear it.” Both his hands are on my shoulders now, squeezing, forcing me to keep looking at him when I want nothing else except to turn away and run. “The Sheriff's compromised. His first instinct's going to be protecting the Draytons. He'll push you out of his office and send you down to some flunky, who'll throw your statement in a drawer where it'll just gather dust. They can't do that with a decorated Marine.”

I hate it, but I know he's right.

When I pull myself away, we head for his truck. I send him the same file from my phone, the one with the only evidence we have to set Ryan free. Then we're rolling onto the highway, too anxious to turn the radio on, never saying anything our eyes can't when we share a glance at every light.

We have to get him out of there. There's no telling what Reg will try to do with his family's connections. His family will want a spectacle in the local press, portraying them as victims, but Reg won't wait forever, knowing who he is and what he meant to me.

He doesn't take risks. If he doesn't know the truth about what happened with Nelson, he'll make sure it's only his family's version that ever goes on record.

I don't know what they're capable of. I remember Patricia's anger, the way she'd get whenever someone disappointed her.

These people don't play around. There are no morals. They'll do their damnedest to arrange an accident, or something worse, every hour Ryan spends locked up.

I'm thankful he's come to his senses, and he's helping me. But I can't ignore the ice creeping up my spine, the chill that keeps telling me it's too late.

* * *

I take a seat in the waiting room at the town's tiny police station, as soon as the sheriff's secretary gives my brother an audience. It doesn't take long to hear the two men bellowing at each other behind the closed door.

The secretary looks up when I stand, walk over, and press my ear against Sheriff Dixon's door. But she doesn't stop me, just walks over herself after several seconds pass, listening with me.

“You've lost your mind, Lilydale, with all due respect. I'm not sticking the FBI in the ass with a flimsy lead like this.” The sheriff's gravelly voice seeps through the wood, resonating in my ears.

“Flimsy? That what you call a list of pervs screwing around with girls they ought to have no business touching? What about the one who's been busted, doing time in a Federal pen?”

“I don't know anything about that,” the sheriff says, shooting down my brother's accusations. He's treating him like a crazy man. Like he's just told him he shook Elvis' hand on the moon. “Look, you know what the Drayton family means to this town. These are serious accusations. I know what Mr. Caspian means to us, too, and what he used to mean to you and yours. You'll have to do better than showing me a list of names if you want me to dig into old Nelson, and turn the worst suspect this town's ever had loose.”

“Then I'll have to do the impossible,” Matt growls. There's a dull thud. I imagine his hands hitting the sheriff's desk, leaning over him. “You've sold out. Failed to protect everybody in this town like you're supposed to, all because you're afraid to go after those fucking assholes.”

“Get out of my face,” Dixon snarls. “We're done here.”

“You're not a bad man – at least I want to believe you're not. Christ, man, get past the fear. Do the right thing. I've brought you proof. You could have this list of names in the lead investigator's hand tonight, blow open a slavery ring, and go down as the town's greatest hero in a generation when they're busted.”

“Please. Fame isn't on my agenda. You're good at what you do, Matt, and I appreciate your service to our country.” The sheriff pauses, trying to regain his calm. “But you're a fool if you think busting the Draytons won't leave this town reeling. They pull their business, we've got nothing.”

“Did you forget you're about to cook a self-made man who's built a billion dollar business?”

“That's hardly relevant to the scope of the suspect's crime,” Dixon snaps. “I'm sorry, I can't help you. If you think so little of this office that you believe we're here to serve one family, instead of Split Harbor, you're welcome to go to the FBI yourself.”

“Bullshit. We both know the Draytons have got their hands in the Feds, too. Our only shot at breaking their backs starts here.” My brother pauses, holding in his anger. I watch his silhouette turn in the frosted glass, heading for the door. The secretary scampers away to her desk behind me. “It's your call, Sheriff, and you know it. If you make the right one, I'll be waiting outside with my sister for awhile.”

Dixon never replies. Matt comes storming out a second later, shooting me a surprised look when he sees me standing next to the door.

“I know, it didn't go well,” I tell him. “What are we going to do now?”

“Wait. We're going to hang out here until midnight, or until we see the sheriff leave. Whatever happens first. He's thinking things over. Deciding what kind of man he is tonight, one way or another.”

Great, more waiting.

Meanwhile, I think about Ryan, holed up somewhere in the back of this building where they have the tiny cells. He's alone, wondering if his worst nightmare is finally coming true.

I can't lose him again. Touching my ring finger, I let the minutes flow by anxiously, remembering my promise.

When I said I'd marry him again, I meant it, down to my soul. This doesn't change that.

If I have to visit him behind bars, wearing his ring, and be a prison wife, I will. I'll wait my entire life to see him free. I'll keep fighting the bastards as long and hard as I have to.

Nothing's destroying our love a second time.

He's cleared his name with me, retaken my heart, and claimed me again. I'm afraid, but I'm determined.

As long as I hang onto that, I'll always have my husband.