When Kiernan arrives, Harper answers the door with a smile on her face. She’s barely looked at me since we came inside. Yet she is smiling her brightest smile for my best friend. He looks at her like she’s pure fucking sunshine and he’s lucky enough to be soaking up her bright light and warmth. It’s how I feel every time she looks at me—except now, she won’t fucking look at me.

“You know,” she says with a small laugh in her voice. “I don’t know if I like when you come over. Shit keeps hitting the fan when you’re around.”

“Don’t lie,” he says, leaning into her, whispering conspiratorially. I growl, thinking he’s standing too damn close to her. “You know you like it, it gives you a break from this moody bastard.”

Harper sucks in a shocked breath and doesn’t respond. Kiernan’s face falls into a mask of confusion. “What? What is it?”

“She’s probably worried how I will react to your moody bastard comment. Turns out I am a bastard. Santiago is my father, Rafael is my brother. Just a regular ole Mexican telenovela around here.”

I turn my back on them, walking into the study. My teeth grind so hard, I can feel the pain radiating in my jaw when I hear them whispering. They’re speaking too softly for me to be able to hear what they’re saying, but I know it’s about me. Harper and I were working through shit this morning and then she brought up Santiago and everything inside of me locked up tighter than a goddamn vault.

Kiernan walks into the study first with Harper behind him. She wrings her hands with her eyes cast down. I want to pummel my own ass for being a dick. “How are you?” Kiernan asks with concern in his voice.

My eyes don’t leave Harper as I answer, “I’m fine.” Her eyes dart up to mine and then away again. In the span of an hour we’ve taken twenty steps back.

“What are you––”

I cut Kiernan off. “I don’t want to talk about it. He’s not my father.”

“Fair enough. You know, I read about this place where you can throw an axe, supposed to be good to release some pent-up aggression. I’ll put Santiago’s picture up and just let you go to town, brother.”

I smirk. “Sounds like a plan.”

“I think the blood he left on James’ punching bag is enough of a release.”

My eyes shoot to Harper. She’s glaring at me and I send a glare right back.

“It’s a little chilly in here today,” Kiernan says, shivering for exaggeration.

Harper hands Kiernan the flash drive. “Let’s get this over with.”

He comes around the desk, sitting behind my laptop and inserting the flash drive. Harper sits on the couch, watching and waiting for any information. I sit next to her, grabbing her hand. When she stiffens next to me, I have to grit my teeth to keep from demanding her to tell me what’s happening in her head.

Several minutes pass with the only noise in the room being the clicking of a mouse and pounding of keys. Kiernan’s face is concentrating, his eyes flying all over the screen, but he’s giving nothing away.

“I don’t think it’s only money he’s after,” Kiernan says, clearing his throat. “He wants this.”

“What is it?” I ask.

Kiernan looks at Harper. “Your dad uncovered some deep shit on him. I have no clue how he got it, but don’t believe Rafael when he says your dad was skimming off the top. It was Rafael, trying to pin it on your father. Rafael was scraping millions. That’s not all, though. There’s so much evidence here.”

“Enough evidence to send him to jail?” Harper asks.

Kiernan shakes his head. “If this gets out, jail is his best option. Fuck. There’s evidence of deals that take down other cartels and evidence he’s been double-dealing against his own. This information is ten years old, I can’t imagine what he’s done since then.”

“How would jail be his best option? No one actually wants to go to jail,” Harper says.

“Every cartel in Mexico and other criminal families from here will be after him. It wouldn’t be pretty. Jail isn’t safe, but it’d be his safest option. There isn’t a corner in this world that these cartels wouldn’t search to find him if they found out half the shit on this flash drive. This is what your dad uncovered, there could be more. There’s wire transfers here to hitmen. I imagine that’s why your dad wrote the letter and moved your money offshore.”

“Oh, my God,” Harper breathes, bringing a hand to her mouth. “What do we do?”

“He hasn’t been clear this entire time about what he actually fucking wants,” I growl. “We’re doing a meet.”

“Okay,” Harper says quietly.

“Not you, Harper,” I hiss. “You’re fucking pregnant and even if you weren’t, no way in fucking hell would you be near him.”

“He’s been coming after me,” she insists. “He probably won’t meet with anyone except me. With the exception of that one time at the apartment, he’s actually been very nice to me.” She shrugs.

“That’s because he wanted to fuck you and take what’s mine. You only want to see the good in people. Don’t be naive about this.”

Harper jolts in surprise, taking her hand away from mine and putting a few inches of space between us on the couch. “I’m not being naive.”

I turn toward her, glaring at the daggers shooting my way. “Neither one of you are going,” Kiernan says. “I’ll go and bring Dawson. He’s not fully cleared yet, but he’s here and the best option we have.”

“Bullshit,” I growl, standing and stalking toward the desk.

Kiernan stands, matching my stance, ready to go toe to toe with me. “You’ll kill him the moment you lay eyes on him because you’re angry—even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“I’m going,” I growl.

“Your girl is fucking pregnant. Don’t be a jackass and wind up in jail just to prove something. It will be a quick meet, find out what he wants and work something out that’s best for both of you. We have leverage on him. I could release all this shit and find more now that I know what direction to look. He’d be hanging from fish hooks before the night is over.”

We continue to stare at each other. I’ll let him do this one thing, but in the end, it will be me who takes him down. I ignore the chanting in my head, I’ll push it aside to do what is necessary. He’s your brother.

“Get your phone, Harper.”

Harper walks out of the room to retrieve her phone. I make my vow to Kiernan. “I will end him.”

Kiernan sighs, shaking his head. “Yeah, I got that, boss.”

Harper hands her phone to Kiernan, giving him the passcode. The day we met.

“How long has that been your code?”

She shrugs, avoiding eye contact with me. “Always.”

Unable to resist, I pull her into my side, kissing the top of her head. Only releasing her when her phone dings. Kiernan looks down at the phone then turns it around to show it to us.

“Date?” I seethe.

Harper rolls her eyes. “It wasn’t a date.”

“Fuckin’ prick,” Kiernan says typing furiously on the screen.

My eyes turn to Harper, watching her intently, knowing my connection to Rafael amps up my jealousy.

“He’s messing with you,” Harper says. “Nothing happened between us.”

Kiernan hands Harper her phone. “I’ll brief Dawson and have him come with me. Roman, keep the drive on you. I made an encrypted copy. It’s in the cloud right now but I’ll store it on a drive as soon as I get back to the motel.”

I nod, already planning to do what he said.

Kiernan stops in front of Harper on his way out the door. “It’s going to be okay.”

She hugs him briefly. “Be safe.”

* * *

“Fuck. Harper, Sugar, wake up. Come on, baby. Wake up.”

Harper’s eyes slowly open, looking up at me. It’s the first time we’ve made eye contact since Kiernan left earlier this afternoon. We spent the day in silence, processing in our own ways. I wanted to go to her so many times, but I didn’t. Undeserving. That’s what I am. I’m no good for her. That feeling is just reinforced now as she stares at me, confused. She went to bed early, but I’ve been waiting to hear from Kiernan since the meet.

“Kiernan was shot,” I say, still unable to believe the words I’m saying. I’m undeserving in so many ways. Guilt is eating me up and swallowing me whole. It should have been me. “James is on his way. He’ll be here any minute. I’m going to the hospital.”

“I’m coming with you,” Harper demands, getting out of bed and reaching for her pants.

“Absolutely not,” I hiss. “You’re staying here, locked in this house where you’re safe. Please don’t argue with me. James is on his way. I need to get to Kiernan.”

Tears well in her eyes. “Is––is he alive?”

“Yeah, Sugar, he’s alive.” I kiss her hard on the mouth. “I love you, Harper. I always will.”

“Go,” she says. As I’m walking out the door, she speaks again. “I love you, too. I feel like you’re saying goodbye without actually saying it.”

I keep walking without turning around; even now every word is like a bullet straight to my chest.

She reads me so well. Part of me thinks I’m saying goodbye to her, that I should say goodbye to her. Caleb’s death is my fault. Kiernan being shot is my fault. If he dies—I can’t let myself go there. Even when I try to make the right choice, I choose wrong. I can’t bring death and destruction into Harper’s life or our baby’s. They’d be better off without me.

Hauling the van as fast as it will go down the streets of Austin, I slam it into park as soon as I get to the hospital. It’s a handicapped space, but I don’t care if I’m towed. I have to get to Kiernan and Dawson. I search the hallways for Dawson, hoping he can brief me before I go into Kiernan’s room. When I don’t see him in the waiting area, I ask the nurses’ station where Kiernan’s room is, sprinting down the hall until I reach his door, throwing it open.

Kiernan looks small in the hospital bed and paler than normal, which is a feat because he matches my six–one frame and he’s already pale.

“Kiernan,” I rasp, heading to the side of his bed and looking down at him with cords attached everywhere and a breathing mask over his face.

His eyes open slowly. When they meet mine, they’re drowsy and glassy from the pain medication. Both bullets didn’t hit anything vital and went straight through, so thankfully he didn’t need surgery. He lost a lot of blood and is probably in severe pain. Kiernan’s hand reaches for his oxygen mask, pulling it off. I try to stop him, but he turns his head away.

“Dawson,” he croaks.

“I haven’t seen him,” I say, looking over my shoulder, expecting him to appear in the doorway. Kiernan’s next words stop me cold.

“Dawson is the rat. Going after Harper.”

My head whips in Kiernan’s direction. His head slightly lolls to the side as he struggles to breathe.

“He’s going after her. Go. Dawson shot me. Killed Caleb. Rafael never even arrived. Go. Go.”

I don’t waste another second. Kiernan is safe here in the hospital. I run as fast as my legs will carry me through the halls, dodging and pushing people out of my way. My phone is to my ear, calling Harper and James as I peel out of the parking lot. Both of their phones go straight to voicemail.