A massive yawning wilderness preserve with acres upon acres of virgin forest, practically uncharted land. The kind where it could take days to cover every square inch and find a small child who could be dying of exposure in some hidden hollow just yards away from search teams, dehydrated and starving and too weak to even call out for help.
My imagination’s already painted a picture of how my son will die—and the holy hell I’ll visit on Katelyn if he does.
Halfway to the park, another call cuts in, and I damn near jump out of my skin.
I put my mother on hold and swipe over with a breathless, “Hello?”
“Mr. Charter? This is Ranger Stephenson. We’ve found your son, Elijah. He’s unharmed, just a little scared and scratched up. You can come get him at...”
That voice fades into white noise.
I vaguely realize he’s directing me to a hospital close by, and I adjust my course.
Above all else, I’m sobbing like a baby.
Whimpering and broke with sheer gut-wrenching relief.
He’s okay.
I can’t believe he’s okay.
They found him. Catastrophe narrowly averted.
I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Eli.
I just know one thing.
I’m never trusting Katelyn with him again.
No matter what I have to do, I’ll get full custody of my son, and make sure she can never endanger him with her reckless schoolyard bullshit again.
One way or another, he’s staying with me.
Nothing on heaven or earth will ever stop me from keeping my boy safe.
Present
I can still taste the adrenaline of that scare years later and thousands of miles away from Alaska under a warm Montana sun.
Eli’s excited shouts echo through the trees, bright and happy and announcing everything’s okay.
It doesn’t change the ache in my chest, the bitter memory of how I almost lost him for good.
Katelyn’s long gone. She can’t hurt him—or me—anymore.
Even so, she’s the reason why I have to be careful.
To make sure I’m a trillion percent confident of anyone I invite into Eli’s life, when one wrong choice could put him in danger all over again.
Just how dangerous could Felicity be? I wonder darkly.
Sure, she’s got her secrets. There’s her old man’s gold that clearly came from somewhere shady, and she’s got some hard choices to make about what to do with it. But those are her dad’s problems, and once she gets out from under his shadow, what then?
I could help her, couldn’t I?
Help her get that mess sorted.
I want to help her, dammit, regardless of how I’m starting to feel about her.
She deserves someone loyal.
Someone to care for her, to reach out when she’s feeling down and offer her a leg up. Or a swift, crushing kick to the nuts for anyone foolish enough to come after her.
I want to give her that as a friend, no damn doubt about it.
I also want to find out if there’s room in her life—and mine—for something more than friendship, too.
If maybe, once she’s swept the chaos out of her life, she could open up and make room for us.
I’m so wrapped up in my swirling thoughts that I don’t even realize I’m not alone.
I should be, even if this is a public park. We’re pretty deep in the woods where the bike trails start.
I’d seen a few other families out with their dogs and kids, but the leaves crunching behind me have an ominous crackle. Squaring my shoulders, I whip around and spot who’s coming up behind me.
And my jaw almost hits the ground.
The last person I expect to turn around and see is Gavin Shitting Coakley.
Dukes up.
I’m instantly on guard, fists clenched, as I take a defensive step backward. My eyes rake over him, wondering if he’s armed.
“Hey, Pax—whoa, no fighting,” he says quickly, holding both hands up high. “C’mon, Charter. I don’t have anything white but my boxers. Don’t make me take ’em off to wave surrender.”
I eye him warily.
Those jokes used to be common between us, back when we were actually friends. Those days are long gone, and reburied when he came plowing a fist at my face.
He’s not glaring at me right now, though.
That accusatory look is gone, leaving a weary, hangdog sense of defeat he wears around him like an aura.
Slowly, I lower my arms—still keeping a good distance between us.
“What the hell do you want, Gavin?” I spit.
“Goddamn, man. You’re not gonna make this easy, huh?” He looks away, scrubbing a hand against the back of his neck, and mutters something under his breath.
“You’re gonna have to try that again. I didn’t bring my hearing aid.”
“I said I’m sorry, okay?” he snaps, then growls, blowing air out sharply. “Fuck. It’s hard to say it, okay? I’m fucking sorry. I screwed up, the way I came at you.”
“That’s the only thing you want to apologize for?” I snarl back. “There’s also stalking. Theft. Getting us arrested. Plus, scaring the shit out of my boy.”
“Aw, hell, I never meant that. Any of it. I’m sorry for everything, okay? Look...you of all people know what happens when a man gets desperate.”
Unfortunately, I do.
I also know there are some things I’d never do, no matter how depraved and hard up I was for money.
I fold my arms over my chest.
“What’s got you so greedy? I paid you off years ago, Gavin. Anything else you did with your money after, that’s your problem.”
“Look, I’d be fine if it was just me, but...dude.” He sighs. It’s a bone-deep grinding, so exhausted it’s like he’s only alive by sheer force of will, everything drained out of him. “There’s this girl...”
“Uh-huh.”
“Ashley, that’s her name.” The way he smiles is a look I’ve never seen on his face. Soft, soppy, his eyes darkening and warming as he stares off to the side. “We got to fooling around one night after meeting at this bar. We made a mistake. She’s gonna have my kid, Pax. And I’m in no place to support a woman and a baby. So I’ve been trying to dig my way out of this, and well...you seem to be doing just fine in Podunk, Montana.”
Damn.
If there’s one thing that’ll stop me from running him out of here at the other end of the sharpest branch I can find, it’s understanding the urge to do anything to make sure your kid’s okay.
I curse, dragging a hand over my face, and look away.
“I’m doing okay because I work. It’s a thing. You get up every day and clock in, do the job, go home, and get paid. Should try it instead of looking for another get-rich-quick scheme or, you know, trying to rob people. You’re pretty shitty at it,” I grumble.
“I am!” he flares, nostrils widening and jaw setting. “The hell you think I’m here talking to you for? You think I’d swallow my pride for anything else? There’s no work back in Fairbanks, man. Or anywhere else where I’m qualified to hire on. Thing is, I hear that construction crew you’re with pays mighty well.”
Oh, no.
Hell no.
No frigging way I’m letting my less than admirable past get tangled up in Holt’s present.