Declan stepped into Willa’s house and drew the gun he had concealed at his waistband. Was someone still here? Or had the intruder left in a hurry? Either way, he didn’t like it.

He glanced around the house. As far as he could tell, nothing appeared out of place.

He moved around the perimeter of the living room, listening for any telltale signs of disturbance. Nothing.

He did the same in the kitchen. The dining room. The laundry.

All appeared clear.

Just to be safe, he checked each of the bedrooms also.

No one was here—only reminders about Willa’s current life. A wheelchair. A hospital-style bed complete with railings. Pictures of a once perfect, happy family.

He didn’t have time to dwell on the meaning or realities of those things now. Willa was waiting to hear what was going on in her home. He didn’t want to keep her waiting any longer than necessary.

He stepped outside onto the porch and motioned to Willa.

She was visibly shaken as she climbed the steps and met him. Her arms were wrapped over her chest, her gaze hooded, and her breathing shallow—sure signs of stress. “Well?”

“As far as I can tell, everything is clear.”

She stared at her front door, depths of worry in her eyes. “That’s good. But why? Is this connected with the threats against Ryan?”

“We don’t know.” He looked at her until their gazes locked.

More than anything, Declan wanted to tell Willa everything and let her sort out what was best. He chose to trust Ryan’s judgment, though. He was going to have to constantly remind himself of that promise.

“My house was broken into last week,” she reminded him.

“Was anything taken?”

She shook her head, her arms still drawn tightly over her chest. “Not that I can tell. We weren’t here. Trevor and I were at Ryan and Daleigh’s when it happened.”

“Was the door left open, just like today?”

“No, I didn’t realize anything was wrong until I noticed some items in my den had been rearranged. I leave things in specific places so Trevor can reach them.”

“Because he’s in a wheelchair?”

Her face pinched tighter. “That’s correct. I try to make things assessable, and, because of that, I’m slightly obsessed with order and organization.”

“Understandably.” He lowered his voice, knowing his words could—and mostly likely would—be taken the wrong way. “Maybe you should think about finding somewhere else to stay, Willa. At least until we know what’s going on.”

She quickly shook her head, fire lighting in her previously downcast eyes. “No, I don’t want to do that. This is my home. No one is going to drive me out of it.”

“Normally, I’d understand that. But, in this case, someone has broken in twice. Most likely the same person.”

She shivered but raised her chin higher. “I’ll change the locks.”

Declan sighed, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t change her mind. “Do you need me to help?”

“I can do it—” She stopped herself and raked a hand through her hair. “Actually, I have no idea how to change the locks. I could probably figure it out, but if you would like to help, that would be great.”

That had probably been a big step for her—admitting she needed help. Being willing to accept it. Swallowing her pride and giving up her attempts—this attempt, at least—at independence.

“Of course. Maybe we can run to the hardware store.”

She pulled her gaze up to his, her eyes exhausted and weary. “Yes, thank you. But don’t feel obligated. I’m sure I can find someone to either help me or explain to me how to do it myself if you’re too busy. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

She was exhausted, he realized. She did everything on her own. Ryan probably helped when he could, but Willa took care of Trevor, worked, and kept up her house. Knowing Willa, she probably cut her own grass and cleaned out her own gutters. It was admirable but also overwhelming, he imagined.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “I’d be happy to help. And always remember that I’m right next door if you need anything.”

“I . . . appreciate that. But other than these locks, I don’t anticipate needing your help.”

Willa was putting on a tough front. But Declan knew deep inside that she was scared. And she should be. The hard part would be trying to help her when she obviously didn’t want any help.

But Willa was in danger. Declan had to figure out who was behind this before the perp took this to the next level.

Five minutes later, Willa sagged against her back door, her heart still pounding in her ears. She’d asked Declan to give her a few minutes to compose herself before they headed to the hardware store. She’d crept into her house, but she couldn’t stand the thought of remaining inside. She’d escaped out back to catch her breath.

Leaning against the wall, she bent over and tried to control her breath. Tried to get a grip on her emotions.

She was going to have to get over this. This was her house. Her safe place. Despite her earlier bravado, this whole thing had left her uncertain and uneasy.

Why wasn’t anything stolen during these break-ins? What exactly was going on.

It didn’t make sense.

The sound of a door opening next door snapped her from her thoughts. Declan stepped onto his deck, a bottle of water in hand. He swatted away a fly and didn’t seem to see her.

Her heart sank when he came into view again, reminding her of yet another part of her past.

She was going to have to get over this, wasn’t she? But Willa didn’t want to get used to his presence. There was still something about Declan that seemed to see into her very soul. She could hardly handle that. She tried to keep all her emotions locked away so tightly.

Everyone thought she was the strong single mom, but deep inside she was a quivering mess. Uncertain about her choices. Battered with guilt. Grateful that Trevor was with her but constantly wondering about what could have been if the accident had never happened.

She let out a sigh and glanced at the time on her phone. She was supposed to meet with Declan in five minutes. She had to pull herself together.

The best thing she could do for Trevor was to give him all her attention, to not get distracted by anything—or anyone—else.

As soon as people saw her walking around town with Declan, the rumors would start again. She could hear them now. The same thing had happened when she and Thorn Alligood had been developing a friendship. That’s as far as it ever went. Thorn didn’t have the temperament to be a father to Trevor. He liked order and control too much to adjust to her life, so they’d called it quits before it had even begun.

But the whole town had already started planning their wedding, practically.

She straightened, resigning herself to getting this over with. She grabbed her water bottle, but, before she could move, her cell phone rang.

When she recognized the area code of Trevor’s summer camp, her nerves rose in a frenzy again.

“Hello?” she rushed.

“Hi, we’re trying to reach Mrs. Summers,” a perky female said.

Her panic went from zero to sixty. “I’m Mrs. Summers. Is this about Trevor? Is he okay?”

“Trevor is okay,” the woman said. “He got a nose bleed while playing basketball. Someone accidentally elbowed him.”

She released her breath but only slightly. “Are you sure he’s okay? Do I need to come get him?”

“No, he’s fine. I promise. But since we had to file a report in the nurse’s station, I wanted to call you and make you aware that it happened.” There was no alarm or even a touch of worry in her voice.

Willa took a deep breath. “Is he upset?”

“No, no, Mrs. Summers. He’s fine. We’d tell you if he wasn’t.”

Reluctantly, she decided to stop pushing it. “Okay, then. Thank you for letting me know.”

But as soon as Willa hung up, her thoughts raced out of control. This time it was only a nosebleed. But what if it was something more serious next time? He needed someone there to watch over him. To protect him.

She was going to go get Trevor, she decided. Maybe they’d go on a trip somewhere. She didn’t have much money, but she could scrape together enough to go somewhere until this blew over. It would be the best thing in a situation like this.

If she left now, she could meet Trevor before it was even dark.

She reached into her purse—thankful she hadn’t left it inside—and grabbed her keys.

She had a plan. And no one was going to talk her out of it.

“You can’t go pick up Trevor, Willa,” Declan said.

She kept walking toward her van. “Of course I can. He’s my son. I can do what I want.”

“Willa, listen to me.” He blocked her from the van door.

Fire flashed in her eyes. “Declan, no offense, but you know nothing about my life. You know nothing about Trevor. You’ve been gone for a long time. You have no right to give me your opinion or to think I should listen.”

She had a point.

“You’re right,” he said. “I don’t have any right to assume you’ll listen to me, and I don’t know what your situation is. But from an outside—from an objective—standpoint, you’re being impulsive here.”

The fire raged even stronger. “Impulsive? Someone has broken into my home. Not once but twice. I don’t even want to stay here anymore. Besides, my son was injured.”

Concern spread through him. “Injured? What happened?”

She raised her chin, the worry lining her gaze transitioning into a moment of self-doubt. “He got a nosebleed.”

Declan released his breath. “Nosebleeds aren’t all that uncommon, Willa.”

She reached for her door handle again, but his hand darted out. She scowled but didn’t fight him. Not immediately, at least.

“Listen to me.” He kept his voice even and low like any good negotiator might. “I’ve never met Trevor, and I’m not going to assume I know what’s best for him. That’s your job. But this camp could be a really important step for him. Why take that away?”

Something changed in her gaze. Maybe she was listening. Maybe he was getting through to her.

Because what Declan didn’t want to say was that being away from Hertford right now might be the best thing for Trevor.

“He needs to be safe.” She raised her chin, though not as empathically as earlier.

“Being at this camp is probably the safest thing for him, with two break-ins here.”

“I want to see him. I want to know for myself that he’s fine.” Willa’s voice wavered.

“He’s probably having a great time.”

Finally, her head sagged and in a strained whisper she muttered, “I just don’t know if I can do this.”

Declan thought that’s what she said, at least.

“What was that?” he asked softly, feeling the strange need to reach out to her.

As if Willa realized how much she’d revealed, she raised her head. A new fierceness appeared in her eyes. “I don’t know. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

He knew better than to push it. At least she’d backed off some and wasn’t gunning for her van anymore. It was a start.

“Listen, let’s change the locks first and then you can decide,” he said. “How does that sound?”

Declan watched her expression, sure she would object. But, to his surprise, she nodded. “Fine. Let’s do it. One step at a time. But I’m making no promises.”

“Declan? How are you, man?”

“It’s great to see you.”

“What’s going on?”

Everyone they passed on their walk to the hardware store greeted Declan like he was a hometown hero. It was like nothing had changed in the twelve years he’d been gone.

He was still the quarterback, and Willa was back to being his cheerleading girlfriend sidekick. Prom King and Queen.

Those had been the glory days. Willa had her whole future planned out, and it included staying here in Hertford, North Carolina, marrying her dream man—that would have been Declan—and starting a family together.

Instead, Declan had graduated college and had immediately gotten accepted into the FBI Academy. Out of nowhere, he’d broken up with her and left.

Willa had continued her education at UNC and had gotten her degree in business. While nursing her broken heart, she’d met Matt Summers, an engineering major, and the two had fallen in love.

After they’d married, she’d convinced Matt to come back to this area. He’d gotten a job as a civilian in the Coast Guard in the neighboring town of Elizabeth City. Trevor had been born, and it had seemed like she was living her dream life after all, just without Declan. And that was fine. She loved Matt, and he was good to her. But that life seemed like a blurry, distant memory at times.

She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans and tried to ward away her thoughts. But she couldn’t. They kept coming until they consumed her.

Why did Declan think he could tromp back into her hometown and act as if he hadn’t left a path of destruction in her life? But that was just the way Declan was. He was always the hero, the good guy, the one who could do no harm.

Except that he had done harm. To Willa, at least. He’d broken her heart.

She quickly checked her phone one more time to make sure there were no other messages about Trevor. There weren’t. Then she glanced at Declan and noticed how he scanned their surroundings. Not in a familiar way, like he was soaking up the past. But like he was suspicious.

“What are you looking for?” she asked.

“Nothing. Why?” He seemed to snap out of his businesslike mode.

“You’re clearly looking for something. Or someone. The person who broke in, maybe?”

His façade cracked. “I just don’t like the thought of someone coming and going from your house whenever he wants. I don’t like the thought of someone doing that to anyone, for that matter.”

Neither did she. Hearing him voice it out loud made a shiver race down her spine.

They reached the store and slipped inside. A few minutes later, they found new regular locks—as well as a dead bolt and chain, just to be safe—and stepped up to the register to pay for them.

Arnie, the elderly owner of the hardware store, grinned as if his own long-lost son had returned home. Willa halfway expected him to give Declan some kind of family discount.

“Good to see you too, Willa,” Arnie said. He winked. “Glad you’re with Declan and not that other guy.”

Her spine pinched. “What other guy?”

“The one who came in here looking for you last week.”

Declan visibly tensed beside her, his rapt attention on Arnie.

“What do you mean?” Willa asked, hardly able to breathe.

“This guy came here asking about you,” Arnie said. “Said you’d met online, and he’d come to Hertford to meet you in person.”

“I haven’t met anyone online—and I have no intention of trying to.” Willa’s voice trembled.

Arnie shrugged and scratched his head. “Well, he was pretty convincing. Wonder why someone would do something like that?”

“What did he look like?” Declan’s jaw flexed with intensity.

“I don’t know. Pretty average. Wore a ball cap and sunglasses. White guy. Brown hair. Didn’t sound like he was from around here. Maybe from somewhere up north.”

Willa’s head started to spin. This was getting creepier by the moment. “Is that right?”

Arnie nodded. “I’ll tell you one thing for sure. He knew an awful lot about Willa.”