But… something’s wrong.
The odor hits first—cheap aftershave, tobacco, stale sweat. Nothing like how Luke or Reid smells.
Then the footsteps. Too quiet. Too careful.
My eyes snap open.
Too late.
A hand clamps over my mouth. A sharp prick bites into my arm?—
Then nothing.
CHAPTER 40
Reid
Iroll my pen between my fingers, staring at the computer screen in front of me, a faint smile tugging at my mouth.
It almost feels too easy.
It’s all gone well. All the guests had been supportive of Amanda and willing to play their part. No one got hurt. More importantly, the cops didn’t find anything they could use to track her.
Now comes the hardest part… waiting until the designated time to contact her at the safe house. I wish I’d had something to give her—some kind of tracker, a panic button, anything that would let her reach me if something went wrong.
But out here, there’s nothing. No signal worth relying on, no clever gadgets, no safe way to stay in touch. Just distance and silence.
We wait for the rendezvous.
I exhale slowly, forcing the tension out of my shoulders. Worry won’t help her. It’ll just make the waiting harder.
Meantime, there’s plenty to do—getting the retreat back to something resembling normal after the police raid turned everything upside down. Luke and I have been digging into Amanda’s husband, which has gone better than I could havehoped. The deeper we looked, the more we found. At this point, we’ve almost gathered enough to put him away for a long time. With luck, Mayor Daniel Barnes won’t be in any position to hurt Amanda—or anyone else—ever again.
Then we can all have our happily ever after.
Because there’s something else, too. Something personal. Something so big I’m still trying to get my head around it.
It still doesn’t feel real.
For years—since I was a teenager—I’ve carried a secret. Hidden it. Feared what would happen if it ever came out. Feared judgment. Rejection. The weight of it has followed me everywhere, a constant reminder of what I did.
I killed my father.
I was just a boy when it happened, and I buried the truth along with him.
That’s the reality I’ve lived with.
And now, after telling my three closest friends, I find that the world didn’t end. After all those years of imagining the worst—what the law would do, what the people I care about would think—I was wrong about one thing.
They didn’t turn away from me.
If anything, it brought us closer.
But the first time I told someone… that was different. I wasn’t ready. Not even close. Instead of helping, it made everything worse. I ended up hurting the only person I’ve ever truly loved.
Sierra.
That morning when I’d woken up and realized I’d told her—drunk, careless, exposed—I wanted to disappear. I couldn’t face her. Couldn’t stand the thought of what she must see when she looked at me now.