I rose from the floor and curled into a ball on the couch. I was wet and cold and scared. My phone sat in my palm while I pushed redial over and over. I pleaded with Ryker on voicemail to call me back, but he didn’t. I texted him, but my messages went unseen and unanswered.

Grace walked in the door humming the theme song from Friends until she saw me curled in a fetal position on the couch.

“What the hell happened?” She lifted my head, sat, and cradled it in her lap. Her fingers brushed through my damp hair the way Grams used to each time I climbed into her lap and cried. Grace had that mothering instinct, and I was happy to let her hone her skills on me.

In between bouts of hysteria, I told her everything. Once I was finished, she sat in silence as if digesting each word syllable by syllable. Her hands ceased to move through my hair, and her breath halted. “Are you sure you’re her?”

I rose from the comfort of her lap and went into the bedroom where I’d hidden the envelope of proof between the mattress and the box spring. One by one, I handed her the pages of my secret life. The ones that showed my birth, my parents’ death, and my subsequent name change.

“It’s all there in black and white and notarized.”

“So, you’re Sparrow.” She walked to the kitchen and grabbed the box of wine and a glass. I gave her a confused look. “It’s not for me, it’s for you. If I weren’t pregnant, I’d drown myself in alcohol with you.”

She pushed the plastic spigot and poured me a glass. The rim had just touched my lips when Grace’s phone rang.

“It’s the hospital.” She pressed answer and pulled the phone to her ear. “He what? Oh my God.”

I was so tired of hearing one-sided conversations. I gripped Grace’s phone and pressed the speaker button.

“He’s doing okay,” the voice on the other end said. “He’s stable. The clot was removed. There’s no way to tell if there’s permanent damage. It’s wait and see. His parents asked us to call you. Do…” It sounded like the woman was going to say something else, but then silence filled the space.

“Hello,” Grace said. “Was there anything else?”

The woman inhaled and exhaled. “I’m not sure if I should say anything, but Nate’s friend was here. He left in a rage screaming something about someone paying for this. You might want to find him. He sounded deadly, and I’m pretty certain it isn’t him I should be worried about.”

“Oh God,” I cried. “Ryker won’t let this stand. He thinks it’s the sheriff’s fault, and I’m not there to calm him down. He’s going to kill him, Grace. I have to stop him.”

I grabbed my keys and phone and ran for my Jeep. I had no idea where I’d find Ryker, but I wouldn’t rest until I looked in every corner and turned over every stone. Ryker might want me dead, but I wanted him alive and well. I loved him, and I refused to let him ruin his life.

I went to the garage, the police station, and the diner. Initially, Hannah was caustic, but when I told her that Ryker was in trouble, her unrequited love for him sprang forth, and she told me where the sheriff lived. He had a patch of land outside of town. On a napkin she drew me a rough map, and I took off like a greyhound chasing a rabbit.

Each minute that passed was a minute too late. I pressed the gas and raced up the dirt road. My heart stammered when I saw Ryker’s car.

I searched the area for him but came up empty. It was when I pulled past the house that I saw them. Ryker stood in front of the sheriff, who was dressed in street clothes. His gun was nowhere in sight. At least that was something. No one was getting shot today.

However, I looked at the crowbar in Ryker’s hand and knew that someone might get beat to death. I came to a stop beside the two men. A cloud of dust swelled around us while I exited the Jeep.

“Just tell the truth.” Ryker glanced at me. “Hasn’t there been enough lies today?” That message was certainly meant for my ears, and I flinched at the anger in his voice. “Admit that you went after Nate. Admit that you tried to kill him. Nate has done nothing to you, and he’s lying in a hospital bed because you hate me.”

The sheriff laughed. Odd because this wasn’t a laughing situation. His chuckle turned into something more sinister, and the hairs stood up on my arms.

The sheriff took a menacing step forward. “You’re right. I hate you. I’ve hated you since that day you lived and my father died. You ruined this town. You ruined so many lives, and now I get to ruin yours.” Sheriff Stuart looked at me, then glared at Ryker. “You realize you’re going to jail, right? You can’t come on my property and threaten my life and get away with it.”

My glance bounced between the two men. I wasn’t sure who would act first, but I could feel the anger and tension crackling around us. It was a matter of minutes before this situation turned from bad to worse.

Ryker raised the crowbar, ready to strike. I turned toward him and screamed, “Stop while you can. You haven’t done anything yet. Please don’t throw your life away for this.” I dropped to my knees before him and begged with everything I had. “Ryker, I’m so sorry. I should have told you the day I came back from Denver, but I was so afraid I’d lose you, and it happened anyway.”

I twisted around to look at the sheriff. “Haven’t we all lost enough? Haven’t we paid enough?” The pain was closing in on me; the weight of it crushed me.

The sheriff took another step forward, and Ryker picked me up from my knees to push me behind him. “Don’t you fucking touch her.” His voice was dark and deadly. He gripped the crowbar tight enough to turn his knuckles white.

Sheriff Stuart’s jaw clenched, and his eyes narrowed. “You killed my parents, and now you stand there and threaten me?”

Someone had to stop this insanity, or another generation would be torn from this world. I sidestepped Ryker to move between the two men. They needed to know the truth. The truth would damn me, but it would set them free. “He didn’t kill your parents!” I screamed. “I did.” My confession floated in the silence between us. “I’m Sparrow Creed. I’m the one to blame.” The minute I said my name, my world spun.

The sheriff’s hand came up to scrub his bristly jaw. “You can’t be her, she’s dead.”

“I’m not dead. I’m here.” A jolt of consciousness zipped through my body, and I saw the past in living color. The scene from that day played out in front of me like a motion picture. Ryker as an eight-year-old boy. Leather jackets. Guns. Beer bottles. Old Sheriff Stuart. I pressed my mind for more. Flashes of memory came and went. My father and my mother. Ryker picking me up and tossing me toward the secret entrance. That’s where it all slowed down. I was in the air for but a second before I hit the box. I saw a big man lean against the tool chest and it toppled over. Guns drew, and flashes of light exploded, then I hit the box. It fell to the floor, and I was in Ryker’s arms while he ran to save our lives. The blow to my shoulder, the burning pain, and the blackness.

A strangled cry broke from my lips. “Oh my God, I remember. I remember everything. It wasn’t Ryker.” My hand came to my lips. “It wasn’t me. It was a big fat man with a red R on his coat. The tool chest tumbled, and the metal tools hit the cement floor. It sounded like gunfire.”

I fell to the dirt and cried for the lives that were lost. I cried for Sparrow, and Ana, and Ryker, and Silas, and baby Decker. I cried for Mona, and Sam Junior, and the dozen or so other children that lost their parents. I cried for the town of Fury and for anyone that was affected by the tragedy. I cried until I was out of tears.

When I lifted my head, both men were on their haunches next to me.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ryker had dropped the crowbar and now gripped my shoulders. “Tell me what you mean.”

“It wasn’t you, Ryker. It wasn’t me.” I looked toward the confused sheriff. “It wasn’t him, Sheriff. You’ve been blaming the wrong man for years.”

The sheriff crossed his arms over his chest. “I need facts. Lay them out step by step.”

I swallowed the swelling sorrow stuck in my throat and explained how I’d followed Ryker into the garage. I didn’t have many details because I’d spent most of my time picking at a sticker on the box. “I saw my mom, and I made a dash toward her, but Ryker picked me up. I was facing the people in the garage when he tossed me toward the broken slat in the wall. A big man, like three-hundred-pounds big, leaned against the tool chest, and it fell over. Everything went to hell after that.”

“If he had a big R on his coat, he was a Rebel.” Ryker sat back on the dirt and buried his head in his hands. His posture spoke of resignation and relief. “I wasn’t responsible. I didn’t kill everyone.” He looked up with glossy eyes toward Sheriff Stuart. “I didn’t do anything to get your dad killed.”

The sheriff stepped back. His jaw tensed and twitched. His eyes moved back and forth like he was looking through files we couldn’t see. His brain was sorting through the evidence that he’d most likely combed through a thousand times before. “Only one man matches that description. They called him Tiny, and he’s dead. They found him lying next to the tool chest riddled with fourteen bullets.” I could tell there were a million things whirling through his head, and I could see the moment it hit him that he’d been terrorizing a man who had suffered the same fate as him. It was when he looked down at both of us that a tear leaked from his eye.

I turned to Ryker and told him once more that I was sorry. My apologies were all I had left to give him. “I wasn’t withholding on purpose. I didn’t know.”

He rose to his feet and picked me up like I weighed nothing. “You can arrest me if you want, Sheriff, but let me get my girl back to our home first. She’s had a rough few days.”

He called me his girl. I pressed my nose into his chest and inhaled his scent. It was home. He was home. He was taking me to our home.

We almost made it to my Jeep when the sheriff called out. “Ryker.”

Ryker stopped and tensed. “Yes, Sheriff?” He looked over his shoulder and stared. I wondered whether things would come to blows once more. That flashback and the emotions it unleashed had drained me of the energy to stop them from destroying each other, if that was what they were intent on doing.

“I didn’t do anything to Nate. He really was speeding and lost control. I just used the situation to get under your skin. But I think it’s time to bury the past, don’t you?”

Ryker nodded, took me to the passenger side of the car, and set me inside. The buckle to my safety belt snapped into place, and he shut the door. My heart skipped a beat when he headed back toward Sam. Fear was a hard habit to break. I fumbled with the seat belt, trying to get it loose in case I needed to intervene.

Sam picked up the crowbar that Ryker had dropped and moved in. My breath halted, and I watched the two men close the gap. But it wasn’t in anger that they came together. Ryker offered the sheriff his hand for a shake. Sam looked down at it for a long second. These men had been enemies for a lifetime. Hatred was also a hard habit to break. But they shook hands, and Sam gave Ryker the crowbar. Ryker gave Sam his keys.

When he climbed into my Jeep and turned the key, the engine sputtered and died. It took three tries to get it to turn over.

“You really need a tune-up.”

I turned in my seat and looked at the man who, only hours ago, had told me he was going to pretend I was still dead. Now we were talking about tune-ups. “We’re talking about cars?”

He put the Jeep into drive and then reached over to hold my hand. “You know you have a boyfriend who offered to work on your car.”

I tilted my head in confusion. “You’re my boyfriend?”

He stopped at the end of the property and turned toward me. “I am if you can ever forgive me for being such an idiot.”

I wanted to make him squirm and tell him I’d think about it, but I didn’t want to lie to him again. We were both to blame. “Can you forgive me?”

He leaned across the center console and wrapped his hand around the back of my neck. “I was angry, and I was stupid. I’ll spend the rest of my life proving to you that I’m worth another chance.”

I unbuckled my belt and climbed over onto his lap. “I forgive you because I love you. I’m tired of hurting. I’m tired of seeing you hurting. Let’s put the past behind us and look to the future.” I pressed my lips into his and lost myself in the kiss.

He pulled away and looked at me with a question in his eyes. “There’s one more thing I need to know.”

The steering wheel poked me when I leaned back. “What’s that?”

“When I bury my cock inside you tonight, what name do I call out?”

My laughter filled the air. “As long as you’re buried inside my body, you can call out anything.”

He cupped my chin, and his expression turned serious. “No, really, what do I call you? Who do you want to be?”

I thought about his question for a moment. “Sparrow was the little girl you lost. Ana is the woman you found. I’m one and the same, but with you, I’d rather be the woman.”

He lifted me from his lap and placed me back in the seat.

“Let’s go home, Ana.”