Saturday afternoon, I sit across from Stone in my backyard, waiting for him to say something. In his hands, he holds the confirmation of what I feared only second to thinking Bender could be dead: he’s on the run from something or someone.

On the postcard that appeared in my mailbox, there’s a picture of palm trees on a tropical shoreline with “GUAM” plastered over it in bright, festive colors. A distorted spelling of my name and address, scribbled in a woman’s elaborate handwriting, are all that’s on the backside. But it’s the way my name was spelled that says it all: Eyker Blackwood.

When Bender was a toddler, he couldn’t pronounce the ‘r’ in my name. Our mom thought it was hilarious and put “Eyker” on everything for an entire month before it got on my nerves, and I made her stop.

My brother’s sending a message. Of what, I have no clue. The only thing that’s clear is the fact that he’s alive—or at least he was long enough to give someone the nickname.

Stone finally meets my scowl, holding the card up. “The fuck you waiting for? Let’s go find ‘im.”

“We could scour the entire island for days on end, and still come up empty-handed.” I rub at my temples while giving a little shake of my head. “We need more to go by.”

“The US has a couple military bases there. If he took off because of something to do with those ARs, it’s as good a place as any to start. I know a guy who was stationed there and decided to stick around—he might be able to get us some decent insider shit.”

Zoe squeals from the far end of the pool. I glance over to find she’s left the lounger where she was napping to chase after Charlize. They fall into the water together, giggling and screaming. They’re not the same as the noises she makes in the bedroom, but the sound still gets under my skin in a delicious way.

From a distance, I’ve paid close attention as the sisters work on repairing their relationship. I’ve had enough talks with Charlize to get that she wasn’t aware how much her sister has sacrificed to keep them going. Hearing Zoe describe their struggles was hard to swallow. I know all too fucking well what it feels like to try to provide for a younger sibling when there’s literally nothing to give them.

For most of my childhood, my old man wanted nothing to do with me, leaving my fate in our mother’s incapable hands. I inherited his estate by default since he didn’t have a will. Stealing and finding ways to cheat the system were the only way to survive most days until my father died, and my uncle took me in. I won’t let Zoe continue down the same fucked-up path.

And after all I’ve done over the years for my brother, all bullshit between us aside, I can’t fail him now.

“Call this contact of yours, and feel him out,” I tell Stone. “See if he knows a PI that could help us find Ben. If we can come up with some kind of solid proof he’s there, we’ll grab the first flight out. In the meantime, I’ll track down Tricky Dick to see if he forged a passport for Ben last week. I can’t imagine he would’ve trusted anyone else if he was leaving the country.”

“I’m on it.” As Stone pushes away from the table, he stops with the ring of my phone. Snatching it to look at the screen, he shrugs. “Two-one-two area code…probably Roman. You should answer it.”

“Roman as in your cousin? Why would he call me?”

“I sent him a demo from the last night we jammed with Rook. He said he was gonna call today.”

I clench my teeth together. “You sent our songs to your cousin?”

Chortling, he throws me another one of his signature shrugs. “The fuck does it matter? He’s interested in hearing whatever else your bitch ass wrote. Just answer the damn phone.”

Grunting, I accept the call. “Ryker Blackwood.”

“Ryker, it’s Roman Stone. Hope it’s okay I’m calling you. Cam gave me your number.”

I narrow my eyes at Stone, feigning excitement. “Roman, hey. Haven’t seen you in forever, man. Congrats, by the way. You and your wife are rippin’ up the charts.”

“It’s all Belle. She’s my muse, and she can sing circles around me. Sometimes I’m not sure how my sorry ass snagged the world’s most amazing woman.” I watch Zoe splashing in the pool, thinking the exact same thing. Roman’s quiet chuckle dies down. “Listen, man. I really liked the material Cam sent, so I passed it along to my producer. He agreed you guys have a unique sound, and he thinks your lyrics are killer. He’s hoping you’d be interested in coming to New York some time to give him a taste in person…see if you guys really have the charisma Cam claims.”

I thread my fingers through my hair, glancing over at Stone. Holy shit. This is the kind of break we’ve been dreaming of since we were punk nosed teenagers. The kind of thing Trask insisted would eventually happen. But the timing couldn’t be any shittier. “I appreciate you backing us up, Roman, but we’re currently without a bass player.”

“Cam mentioned your brother was MIA. Sorry to hear—hope you find him soon. There’s no time limit to his offer, so I’d suggest you think real long and hard about taking him up on it when shit’s back to normal. This kind of opportunity doesn’t come along that often. I think you guys have what it takes to make an impression on the industry.”

While I’m still slightly irritated that Stone sent a demo without asking if it’s what the rest of us wanted, there’s a part of me that wonders how far In Disarray could go. It’d be good to give the guys a legitimate outlet to success. It’d make Zoe happy at the same time, especially if I took her along to New York.

Once we bring Bender back, I’ll consider the offer.

* * *

With Charlize at a friend’s house for the night, I’m given the freedom to do whatever the hell I want to Zoe’s hot body in practically every room of the house. We start fooling around in the pool, later making our way into the dining room where she rides me as I worship her beautiful tits.

Shortly after we come together, she disappears, sending me on a scavenger hunt through a series of cryptic texts. It leads to where she waits naked, bent over the ladder in my uncle’s study, beautiful ass waiting to be marked like before. I’ve never witnessed a sight so beautifully tempting in my whole goddamned life. Before my palm first connects with her flesh, the pressure in my balls is almost too much to handle.

After a round of spankings, she coats my fingers with her juices, and I quickly bend in to lap them up with my tongue. She wiggles and groans in a torturous dance against my mouth while begging me to stop. I guide her down to her hands and knees, finishing off inside her tight warmth within seconds. She lays there like a broken puppet, limbs crooked at unusual angles body heaving.

“God, I love what you do to me,” she mutters in a scratchy voice.

As a new set of lyrics flow with blinding clarity, I pop up to my feet and dart across the room, swiping a pen from my uncle’s desk and scribbling on the first piece of paper in sight.

Gorgeous lover

like no other

You give and you take

in the love that we make

I was a lost soul

but now I’m found

you hold my future in your hands

Zoe comes up behind me, giggling in my ear and digging her tits into my back. I’m beginning to associate the combined scent of vanilla and flowers with my future.

“Rememberin’ somethin’ for the grocery list?” she asks, her tone mocking.

“No, lyrics. Your gorgeous ass inspires more than just my cock.”

“Yeah? In that case, I better be the first one your gorgeous ass thanks when the band wins its first Grammy. This thing with Roman’s producer is gonna lead to a monumental deal—I just know it.”

Fuck me. I love her confidence in the band’s future. With her cheering us on, we’ll undoubtedly accomplish whatever goals we’ve set our minds to.

Tossing the pen aside, I spin around and hoist her over my shoulder. She screeches as I take her out of the room, playfully beating my back with gentle fists. “Put me down! Where are we going?”

“Somewhere I can explore those freckles in greater detail.”

“Are you going to feed me at some point, or is it your master plan to make me too feeble and weak to leave?”

“Either way you’re not going anywhere.”

“Well I was half joking, but now that you brought it up, we need to talk.” Annoyance chokes her normally melodic tone. “Put me down.”

I duck into the living room and deposit her on the velvet couch, making a note to get new furniture. The massive stone fireplace is the only thing I’d keep. If it weren’t so hot out, I’d start a fire and make love to her on the rug facing the monstrosity. Cool fall evenings will be here soon enough, and I’ll have endless chance to do just that.

Her eyes widen as I brace myself on either side of her, then lower down until my breath falls on her face. “Move in with me. You and your sister.”

Her eyelids flutter shut. “Ryker…”

“I fucking hate living here alone, and I’ve been doing it for over five years now. You’d be doing me a favor.”

She quirks one eyebrow. “You haven’t had any other female roommates?”

“You’re the only one I’ve had any interest in keeping around. Hell, you’re the only one I actually want as a girlfriend.”

Cheeks tinged pink, she begins stroking my pecs. “You’re asking me to be your girlfriend too? Shouldn’t that be your first question?”

“There’s no point in asking.” I reach down, nudging her legs apart to slip a finger inside her soaked center. “This part of you has been mine since the moment I walked into Pinky’s.”

Catching her bottom lip in her teeth, she buckles to my touch and moans. “God, yes.”

“Dance for me again, gorgeous.” I drag my lips along her soft cheek, inhaling her intoxicating scent like it’s a drug. “This time I wanna feel you come on my fingers while you’re doing it.”

With a small whimper, she backs away, gaze dark with mischief. “As tempting as that sounds, I’d rather tie your hands behind your back and have my way. The only good part about dancing at the club was knowing I was in total control—there wasn’t a damn thing men could do about their sexual urges. It was my only barrier of safety. I’ve never danced for my man before, and I have a feeling it’ll blow us both away.”

I hold back an angry growl, fucking loathing what she did to other men. Remembering the fat prick wanting a taste of her that night at Pinky’s sends a surge of bile scorching through my throat.

Then I imagine what it would be like to be incapacitated as she relentlessly taunts me with her sweet curves and warm flesh. “I’ll agree to that only if you’ll agree to move in and tell your boss at Pinky’s that you’re done for good. From this point forward, I’m the only fuckin’ one you’ll dance for.”

Her eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Now you’re negotiating over a lap dance?”

“You’re asking permission to tie me up for your pleasure. I’m not going to agree to that unless you give me something significant in exchange.”

A little smile tugs at her lips. “I’ll give you that dance in exchange for the promise that we’ll stay here one month. If you still want us around after that, we’ll move in so long as it’s what Char wants.”

“One month,” I agree. “Then I’ll provide handcuffs.”

“Handcuffs?” Her freckles pull tight when she frowns. “I was thinking more along the line of an actual tie…if you own one.”

“It’s going to take a helluva lot more than a piece of fabric to stop me from touching you.”

When her lips part with a breathy sigh, I collect her off the couch and kiss her. Hard. Her answer wasn’t exactly what I was hoping for, but it’s a done deal. Nothing will get in the way of having her in my bed every night.

* * *

Monday morning, Stone’s friend in Guam provides us with contact info for a private investigator. Stu Madison turns out to be perfect for the job. He’s a former Marine with distaste for our government, foaming at the mouth to find anything that could expose them for shady practices. I spend the better part of an hour on the phone with him, getting a feel for what comes next. His price seems a little steep, but I don’t have a whole helluva lot of other options. I wire him the first deposit, and he promises to have a full report by the end of the week.

The next four days pass in a blur. When I’m not tightening up the new songs with Stone and Morrison, I’m being thoroughly entertained by my new roommates. It’s the closest I’ve ever been to having a functional family. I try like hell not to get too comfortable with the idea, knowing Zoe could decide it’s not what she wants.

The good news is she’s becoming comfortable in both my place and my bed. I have an idea how to make this arrangement permanent, but don’t want to spook her this early in. Shit—I’d scare myself. Until she came around, I didn’t have the slightest interest in settling down. Now I can’t imagine a life without her. I’d even miss Charlize, and having the opportunity to watch her mature. Zoe’s amazed that she hasn’t had a single call about her sister committing some kind of crime in the two weeks we’ve been together.

Raven joins us Thursday night for dinner. I think curiosity over where her best friend is living got the best of her. The way she still gives me a cold shoulder, I think she was merely checking to make sure I don’t have the sisters chained to the wall. I still like her, because she’s fiercely protective of my woman.

Having Zoe in the shop every day becomes a major distraction that I can’t afford, so I come up with bullshit errands to get her out for hours at a time. At some point I either need to somehow convince my stubborn woman she doesn’t have to “earn” anything, or get her to enroll in one of the schools I’ve been looking into.

Friday afternoon, I catch Zoe tearing out of the shop’s office with her phone held to her ear, beautiful features tight with concern. “I’m on my way!”

“Hold on!” I manage to grab her before she’s out the door. “What’s up?”

She spins around to face me, big doe eyes brimming with tears as she fists my shirt like she’ll collapse if she doesn’t. “Raven woke from a nap to the sound of sirens—my house is on fire!”

Although she doesn’t say it, I sense there’s a small part of her worried Freddie’s inside. Can’t say I’d be too sad if the fucker met his fate, but I know Zoe and Charlize would struggle. I’ll give anything to protect them from further pain inflicted by that son of a bitch.

“I’ll drive.” I drop a kiss in her hair before grabbing her hand and pulling her out to the Chevelle.

Ignoring traffic lights and speed limits, we make it to her place in less than 10 minutes. Several firetrucks and police cars block her street, so we park around the corner and convince an officer to let us through. We sprint the remaining distance, stopping behind the water truck parked directly in front of her house. Two hoses spray at orange flames licking the set of window frames on the first story outside the living room.

A small part of me fills with relief. If no one else was around, I’d be throwing some gas on the piece of shit. Whatever Zoe had inside can be replaced. I’m desperate to get her out of this neighborhood.

Zoe laces her hands behind her head and bends over. “Fuck!”

Raven comes running from across the street to join us, wearing a pink robe that’s not covering nearly enough. She slips in beside Zoe, rubbing circles into her back. “It’s only a house, babe. I’m just glad you weren’t inside.” She turns to me, making steady eye contact. “Guess things happen for a reason.”

What the hell? Is she accusing me of setting the fire?

I don’t have a chance to call her out on it before we’re approached by a heavy dude with a thick mustache. He wears a uniform slightly different from the other firefighters, helmet held under his arm. His dark eyes meet mine. “Are you Freddie Jackson?”

“No, Freddie’s my father,” Zoe answers, standing straight and pushing her hands into her back short pockets. “Was there…uh…anyone…inside?”

“We made a thorough sweep and came up empty-handed. Were you expecting someone?”

“No,” she mutters, glancing back at the fire.

“Any pets?”

“No.”

“Do you know how I can get in touch with your father?”

“No. He doesn’t live here anymore. It’s just me and my sister.”

The man nods thoughtfully. “I’m going to need you to head down to the sheriff’s station to answer a few questions.”

“Is that necessary?” I snarl while wrapping an arm around Zoe’s shoulders.

“I’m afraid so.” The man scratches his head while glancing back at the fire. “Early signs indicate this could be an act of arson.”

“Arson?” Raven repeats, setting her hands on her hips. “Who’d want to burn that pile of shit down?”

“That’s what we’d like to find out,” the man answers.

“There’s no way in hell she could’ve done this.” I tuck Zoe against my side, ready to knock the fucker out if he tries to take her away from me. “She’s been with me the last forty-eight hours straight. There are at least half a dozen witnesses that could tell you she’s been at my repair shop since eight o’clock this morning.”

The man holds the palms of his hands out. “I’m not saying she’s a suspect, son. But we do have to rule out the possibility that it was done in order to collect on insurance. We simply want to know if there’s anyone who may have motive to do such a thing.”

The way Zoe’s wide-eyed expression swings over to me, I know she’s thinking the same thing that’s rattling through my head.

Insurance money.

Freddie.