For the first time in a long time, I wake without a huge fucking knot in my stomach. These last two weeks have been a bitch, but last night with Summer, I can’t even explain it. Making love to her helped chase my demons away. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that Dad had recorded all my races, and watched and rewatched them. If it wasn’t for Summer I might never have learned that my dad was proud of me. My heart squeezes as I shift to my back and put my arm on my forehead. All this time, I had no idea he cared so much, was so proud of me. I might have fled Blue Bay with bad blood between us, but I think deep down he knew I loved him. Yeah, it sucks that I didn’t make it back in time to tell him personally, but there is a part of me that believes he’s looking down on us all, and maybe even smiling a bit—for once.

He would have liked Summer. Would have taken her in and treated her like the daughter he never had. A smile tugs at me. Gram sure loves her, and I’m not sure what they talked about when they went antiquing, but I’m guessing it has something to do with giving her grandkids.

I never thought I’d ever drive a minivan and have children. A sound catches in my throat. Jesus, I can’t even believe that I’m caving and actually considering it now. What the fuck has Summer done to me? I’m not sure but I do know that if a minivan full of kids is what Summer wants, then that’s what Summer gets.

I stretch and some part of me registers that the other side of the bed is dead quiet. I turn and when I find it empty, I sit up and wipe the sleep from my eyes. Where the fuck did Summer go? I check the clock, and while I’m surprised that it’s nearing ten, I probably shouldn’t be. The last few weeks have taken their toll on me and my weary body finally crashed hard.

I kick off the covers and stretch, expecting to find Summer in the shower, or kitchen, sucking back dishwasher coffee as she gets ready for work. Unless, of course, she’d already left. I pad through the quiet house, and Scout stirs in her bed and comes racing toward me. I pick her up and rub her behind the ears the way she likes.

“Hey, girl, where’s your mom?” I go still, and play the word “mom” over and over in my head. Summer a mom. I kind of like the sound of it, actually. I laugh, a new lightness about me. How fucking crazy is it that I’m thinking about being a dad? I pull open the curtains, and don’t really give a shit that I’m naked. I scan the beach, but Summer is nowhere to be found. She must have left for work already. I check the coffeepot and it’s still hot.

“I guess I missed her, girl,” I say to the squirming pup. “Okay, okay, let me just get my coffee and I’ll take you out.” I pour a big mug, tug on a pair of jeans, and open the front door. Scout darts for the grass, and as she sniffs around, I pull my cell from my back pocket and give Jared, one of the twins, a call. He’s a master carver, a skill only he seemed to pick up from great-granddad when he was young, and I want him to make me something special for Summer, something that will help us move past the secrets and start fresh.

Scout finishes her business and darts inside. I follow her and check her bowls. There is still fresh water one of them, so I’m assuming Summer had fed her before going to work. I look around for a note, but don’t find one. I’m a bit bummed by that. I sip my coffee and step into the living room. With Dad’s funeral, I hadn’t finished the floor yet. The new boards are still sitting in the box. I walk up to the damaged wall, and push the couch out of the way. My glance goes to the heater vent behind it, to the loose screws specifically.

I don’t bother tightening them, the vent will have to be removed before I can plaster anyway. Scout scurries to the vent and sniffs like there’s a fresh turkey cooking in there. Her tail wags double time.

“What’s up, girl? Is there a mouse in there or something?” I set my coffee on the table, and work the loose screws with my fingers. They come out easily, which surprises me. The place has been locked up for years, and by rights these screws should have been seized in place. The knot in my stomach begins to tighten again, alarm bells jangling in the back of my brain as I remove the screws. I set them on the floor and ease the grate out. I lay it beside me, and Scout barks and sniffs the metal as I grab my phone from my back pocket and turn on my flashlight app. I peer inside the hole and what I see has my heart crashing and my buzzing brain coming to an abrupt halt. “No. Fucking. Way.” I go back on my heels, and Scout darts for the hole. She puts two paws inside and starts barking.

I slide my hands around her chubby body, and pull her away. “It’s okay, girl.” I reach inside the hole, and pull out what looks like a small safe. I wince and press my nose to the crook of my arm to ward off a sneeze as I disturb the dust inside. “I think someone must have been here, not too long ago,” I say to the dog, even though she has no idea what I’m talking about.

I bet Summer does.

Phone still in hand, I dial her cell, even though she told me not to. But I need to talk to her, now. My call goes to voicemail, instantly, and my gut clenches.

Jesus Christ, my mind starts working overtime, playing out every worst-case scenario that doesn’t end well. I call Beck, a desperate sort of fear taking hold.

“Beck here,” he says.

“Beck, it’s Sean.”

“Hey Sean, what’s up?”

I try to keep my voice neutral. No sense in worrying everyone at this point. “I can’t get hold of Summer. I tried her phone, but she must not have it with her. Can you grab her for me, ask her to call.”

A moment of hesitation, then, “She didn’t show up for work today, Sean.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and work to calm myself. “Yeah,” I say, and end the call. My hands are shaking as I carry the safe to the kitchen counter. I check the lock, examine the keyhole. Goddammit, wouldn’t you know it. Looks to me like that fucking key Summer carries fits in this lock. Fuck that. I walk to my toolbox. Grab a hammer and beat that fucking lock until it’s broken.

Inside I find a manila envelope. I take it out and fold back the metal fastener. There appears to be a book of sorts inside. A noise sounds in the distance, and I go still, take in the quiet of the place. Every nerve I have is alive, my body tense, ready for a fight. I breathe deep, pull out the black book and flip through the pages. It’s a ledger, with numbers—huge numbers—along with dates and names. I have no idea what I’m holding, but my guess is Summer does.

I try her number again, panic exploding inside me. I need to find her and I need to do it now. I set Scout on her bed, shove the file into the back of my pants, jump into my truck and head through the city. When her big-ass truck is nowhere to be found I drive straight to Gram’s. I hurry up the step and enter the house to find everyone sitting at the table. As soon as they see my face, every brother and cousin goes deadly still.

“What’s wrong?” Jamie asks.

“Have you seen Summer?” I clench down hard enough to nearly break my back teeth, and drag my hand through my hair when all eyes stare at me, confused. “I mean Jenna.”

Gram wipes her hands on her dishrag and steps up to me. “Is she in some kind of trouble?”

“Yes.”

Chairs scrape and boots scuff as the guys climb to their feet and pile out of the house. “We’ll help you find her,” Ty says, and grabs his helmet. “Everyone spread out,” he instructs.

I look at my own bike, and decide to take it instead of the truck. It will help me get around town easier. Town? Maybe she’s already left town, is headed down Highway 2 on her way back to SoCal, and that’s why I can’t find her truck.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Beads of sweat trickle down my back as I jump on my bike and tear through the streets. Fucking Walker will be all over me, but I don’t give two shits right now. I need to find Summer. She’s in trouble. Every instinct I have warns of it. As the guys search Blue Bay, I head toward the highway, leading to the next town. I wish I could convince myself that she went to Hope Falls for coffee, but that’s bullshit and I know it. I hit the throttle, drive like the devil himself is chasing me and for all I know he is.

I round a sharp corner, and without warning I see Summer’s truck, the front end steaming and crushed from a lethal, head-on collision with a guardrail. Momentarily paralyzed with terror, my heart punches into my throat. The soul-chilling sight sends a rush of adrenaline to my brain, and prompts me into action. Moving with breakneck speed, I jump from the bike, and bolt across the hot pavement at inhuman speed, terrified of what I might find inside. A pungent coppery scent clogs my nostrils when I reach the driver’s side door, window crashed open. I look inside, and the sharp cry I hear is mine when I find her in the driver’s seat—alive—rubbing her head, and fighting against the air bag. I touch her damp skin, needing the contact, to make sure I’m not imagining things.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been afraid of anything. Heck, I’m all about taking risks, have a shit load of broken bones in my body, and skidded around hairpin turns that kill, but for the first time in my life, I know what real fear is.

“Summer,” I say, and she shakes her head, then stills, and holds her hands to her ears like she’s trying to get the world to stops spinning. Barely able to breathe, my chest begins to rise and fall in a panicky rhythm I can’t seem to control. I open the door, and reach for her. “Summer, it’s me, Sean,” I say and she looks at me with confused eyes, blood dripping from her nose. “You were in an accident.” I reach across her, grab a tissue from the box on the floor of the passenger side. “You hit the guardrail.”

I hand her the tissue and she presses it to her nose. She blinks once, twice, then her eyes go wide as she looks behind us. Her breathing grows heavy, labored and her pulse jumps at the base of her throat. “You shouldn’t . . . be here.”

What the fuck?

She grips the steering wheel. “I need to go.”

I crouch down to check on her, then hold my hand out. She eyes it tentatively. “You’re not going anywhere. Your airbag has been deployed and you can’t drive in the state you’re in.”

“You don’t understand.”

“What I don’t understand is where you’re going or what happened.”

She looks down like she’s trying to remember. “I was driving, then I tried to break for the corner, and I couldn’t. Then I . . . I have to go, Sean.” Full-blown panic edges her voice, bordering on hysteria.

I scan the ground, the trees hugging the highway. Anger, replaces worry. Why would she just take off? Yeah, I get she’s in trouble, but she should have talked to me, asked me for her help. What, was I just a distraction, someone to occupy her time during her stay in Blue Bay? I thought we had more going on than that. Old fears rear their ugly head. Fuck, maybe she thought I wasn’t good enough, that I’d only end up disappointing her.

“Sit here, don’t move.”

I walk to the front of the vehicle and drop down on to my back to look underneath. When I see the cut brake line, I jump to my feet. “We need to go. Now,” I say and help her from the truck but when we turn, a car is slowing down behind us.

“Oh, God,” Summer cries.

“What?”

“It’s Jack.”

“The ex?”

“Yes.”

“What do I need to know, Summer?” I bite out, my voice harsh—dead fucking serious. The time for playing games is over. I need to know everything. “Tell me right now.”

“Jack is a United States naval lieutenant. He worked under my dad for years and I think he might have been responsible for his death,” she says quickly. “He’s after something, Sean. A ledger. I think the key I found in the lockbox Dad gave me opens something, but I couldn’t find it.”

“I could,” I say and push her behind me to shield her with my body.

“Well isn’t that sweet,” Jack say as he steps from the car and points a gun at us. “Looks like Summer went and found herself a bodyguard.” He angles his head to take me in, his gaze traveling from my head to my boots, and I stand to my full height to square off against him. “Easy there, big guy. I’m not looking for trouble.”

I breathe through the dread taking hold, needing to neutralize the situation before Summer gets hurt. “Then put the fucking gun down.”

“I’ll just be on my way, as soon as Summer gives me what I’m looking for.”

“Jack, I have no idea where—”

“Then you’re as stupid as your old man,” he says, and I feel Summer go deadly still, her breath coming harder, pounding against my neck.

I widen my stance, a predatory move that has Jack angling his body, ready to go on the defense. Fuck, I should have pressed Summer, found out who this douchebag was earlier and hunted him down before it ever came to this. Why the fuck didn’t she tell me how bad things were?

“I have what you’re looking for,” I say, wanting the attention on me, not Summer.

He smirks, his look dubious. “Is that right?”

“Yeah, that’s fucking right.”

He lifts the gun, points it between my eyes and Summer makes a yelping sound. “And what might I be looking for, asshole?”

“Black journal. Lots of names and numbers in it. If it ever ended up in the wrong hands . . .” I stop to give a slow whistle. “Looks like a lot of illegal activity going on. I think there would be all whole lot of shit coming your way.”

His face hardens and he crooks his finger. “Hand it over. Or I’ll kill you, like I killed her father.”

Summer is shaking so hard behind me, it takes everything I have to concentrate on the gun and not turn around to console her. But I won’t let anything happen to her. I’d fucking die first. “Oh, you think I’m stupid enough to have it with me?”

He shrugs. “Hey, I’m not judging your intelligence, despite the buttfuck hole of a town you live in. So just hand it fucking over, or I’ll put one between your eyes.”

“You do and you’ll never find it.”

“I’m getting tired of this game.”

“I’ll take you to it.”

He smirks, slow and easy, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by me. Yeah, I might not be a naval lieutenant, but that doesn’t mean I’m without my own resources.

“Sure, but Summer rides with me.”

She tugs on my shirt. “No fucking way.”

“Look, this doesn’t involve you.” He waves his gun. “Hand her over, and I’ll make this real easy on you.”

“I never was one for easy.”

He stares at me, like he’s trying to decide his next move. “Are you really willing to get yourself killed for her? You think because she spread her legs for you she wants you?” His laugh is cruel and harsh and Summer quivers, her fingers gripping my shirt so hard, I’m sure she’s going to tear it. “You’re a fucking redneck from Buttfuck, asshole. Apparently you are as fucking stupid as you look. It’s called slumming, pal.”

“That’s not true,” Summer whispers.

“You got something to say?” Jack asks.

“How did you find me?”

“You’re not as smart as you think you are.” He laughs. “A chip off the old block though. You never should have taken off, Summer. You just should have cooperated. Now your friend Susie has to get hurt.”

Summer is crying behind me. “Jack, don’t—”

“Too late for that.”

“Why . . . how?” she asks, her voice boarding on hysteria.

“Little Susie called me last night. Reaching out to her was your first mistake. She made the second by calling me, worried about you. When I told her you broke your cell and I’d lost your number, she was happy to supply it. If you don’t want anyone else hurt, you’d better give me what I want.”

A burst of fury coils through me and my fingers curl into fists. If he’s telling her about her friend, then he has no intention of letting us out of this alive. If I didn’t think Summer would get hit in the crossfire I’d go straight for the guy’s throat. As my mind races, catalogs my next move, a truck slows down behind Jack’s car. I look past his shoulder, and feel a measure of relief when I see Jamie pulling to a stop behind the douchebag’s car. Jamie jumps from his truck and gravel crunches beneath his boot. From his angle he can’t see the gun. My brother has no fucking clue what kind of danger we’re all in. This is bad. So fucking bad.

“What’s going on?” he asks me.

Jack turns slightly at the sound, and acting purely on instinct, I rush him. No way is this douche going to hurt anyone I love. I kick the gun from his hand and land a hard one, right between his eyes. He goes down and I jump him, landing a few good right hooks to his face.

“Fucker,” he says as he tries to kick me off. We fight, and he cracks my nose so hard, I’m sure it’s broken. I shake my head as stars form, and he punches me in the gut, knocks the air out of me, and pulls a knife. He rolls me underneath him. I grab his arm, hold the blade inches from my head, but the fucker is strong. Jamie runs, and kicks the knife from the guy’s hand. Then the next kick is to the guy’s head, and it knocks him out and off me.

“Keep him down,” I say, and hold my gut, blood pouring from my nose as I climb to my feet. I turn to Summer, wipe my nose on my sleeve, and grab her hand, my main priority getting her to safety. “We need to go.”

She nods, and I glance back to see Jamie on top of the guy, pinning him to the ground. Jack definitely messed with the wrong family, and I’m glad it was my fighter brother who came to our rescue. Jack might be a navy man, but Tyler is a tough cage fighter. No contest.

Summer hops on the back of the bike without question. I turn on the highway and go full throttle, my engine screaming as I race through town, every head turning my way. It’s exactly what I want. Behind me Summer is holding on for dear life, but she doesn’t have to worry. My bike is an extension of my body and I know exactly how to handle her. I fly down the streets, draw tons of attention as I cut through yards, my childhood days flashing before my eyes.

In no time at all I hear the cries of a siren. Summer squeezes my stomach. “Officer Walker,” she warns.

If I wanted to I could have lost him, but him catching me is just what I had planned. I stop my bike and he climbs from his car, a look of victory on his face. He holds his hand over his gun.

“I knew it would only be a matter of time,” he says, but his smile falters when he sees the blood.

I help Summer from the bike and hold my hands up. “I have something you’re going to want to see. Something that’s going to put your name on the map.”

He eyes me, but he’s not a stupid man. “What are you talking about?”

I slowly reach into the back of my pants and pull out the ledger. He takes it from me and opens it. “What the hell is this?”

“It’s a ledger. Links to bank accounts and illegal activity, I believe.” I look at Summer who is as equally surprised as Walker. “I found it at the Wheeler cottage. I think this is what got Colin Wheeler killed.”

Walker’s eyes go wide. “What are you talking about?”

“My real name is Summer Wheeler, and my dad’s death wasn’t an accident,” Summer pipes up. “I’ve been on the run from my ex, Jack Kauffman.” She points to the ledger. “He was after that. He found me because I made a call to a friend,” she whispers, and looks at her feet. “She’s in danger now, too.”

“Who did you call?” Walker asks.

She gives her friend’s name and number.

“I’ll get an officer to her house,” he says, and grabs his radio. He calls it in, then his cautious glance goes from me to Summer back to me again. “Where is this Jack?”

“You’ll find him out on Highway 2. I believe Jamie has him detained.”

Walker slaps the book against his hand. “I want to see both of you at the station. Don’t think you’re going anywhere anytime soon.” I nod, and Walker jumps into his car.

I turn to Summer, my hands shaking so hard, my breath coming so fast, every emotion I’ve ever experienced hurling down on my like a big fucking eighteen wheeler.

I’m relieved, yet so fucking angry. How could she not have told me the danger she was in and why the fuck was she running away?

“Jesus, Summer.” Her head jerks up at the gruffness in my voice. I’m so fucking mad, I’m practically spitting nails.

“Why did you make a fucking phone call?”

“I . . . I wanted to figure out how to help you get your permits. I didn’t think she’d call Jack. I’d been so careful, Sean.”

I step away from her and suck in a sharp breath. Tearing fury rockets through me and I pace, running my hands through my hair, needing to punch something again. My gaze flies to her face, and anger takes hold. What if something had happened to her? My blood runs cold, penetrating my bones.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Summer. You put yourself in danger because of me. Don’t ever fucking do that again.” I pull my hair and kick at a rock. “Do you have any fucking idea how scared I was?”

“Sean . . .”

“You should have told me.” I stop directly in front of her and her eye go wide. I take a moment to consider what she sees: a big fucking intimidating guy who is spitting mad at her. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was my problem not yours.”

I shake my head, so fucking lost in her. An invisible band squeezes my heart. I love her. I fucking love her and I protect those I care about. I protect what’s mine. If she doesn’t know that by now—doesn’t realize that I’ll kill or be killed for her—it can only mean one thing.

She’s not mine—and it’s time we stop playing house.