Chapter 27
McCrae
I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Azalea. Not Sky. The woman who had fallen into my life was Azalea Ryan, a reporter from Texas with a brother who might be fighting for his life.
“We need to go,” she said, grabbing her hastily packed bag. Her hands trembled, but determination hardened her features.
“Damon’s gathering everyone at the station,” I reminded her. “My family can help us figure this out.”
She nodded, but I could see her mind was already racing ahead, planning how to find her brother. I understood that feeling; the desperate need to protect family. It was in my blood too.
As we drove into town, Azalea clutched her suitcase on her lap like it was a shield, her knuckles white with tension.
“What if he’s dead?” she whispered, not looking at me. “What if they killed him after I escaped?”
“We don’t know anything yet,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the fear crawling into my heart. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.”
The truth was, I was terrified too. Not just for her brother, but for her.
Someone had been at my house last night. Someone was hunting us.
The police station came into view and I parked quickly.
When we pushed through the door, I was relieved to see my entire family had shown up and were waiting in the conference room.
Noah and Ella sat together near the window, their heads bent in quiet conversation.
Isla stood next to Damon, with their sweet baby in her arms sleeping.
Canyon leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, his face unreadable.
Dylan had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves; he was ready for action.
Kayla sat perched on the edge of the table, swinging her legs nervously.
My parents stood near Damon, my father’s hand on my mother’s shoulder.
They all looked up when we entered, their eyes moving from me to Azalea with varying degrees of curiosity and concern.
“This is Azalea Ryan,” I said, placing my hand on the small of her back. “She remembers everything.”
“I’m a reporter from Austin,” she said, her voice stronger than I expected. “I was investigating a company called Magneto, who said they were a paper company. The more I dug into the research, I felt like they were hiding human trafficking.”
My mother gasped. “Human trafficking?”
Azalea nodded.
Damon scowled. “Continue.”
“I went to Casper to investigate a so called ‘trade show’ the company was having in Fremont canyon. When I got there, I witnessed a murder. Then, my brother was there. He’s a police officer in Austin, but he must have been following me, trying to protect me.
I don’t know why he was in the canyon. Anyway, all I know was that he helped me escape. ”
“Wow,” Canyon said.
“This is crazy,” Kayla commented.
“But it tracks,” Noah nodded. “It tracks.”
“So you left your brother, but you can’t get ahold of him?” Damon asked, his expression shifting.
Something in his tone made my blood run cold.
Azalea must have felt it too, because she stepped forward, her body tensing. “Yes. Do you know something?”
Damon exchanged a look with my father before answering. “I’ve been making calls since we talked, trying to track down any information related to your case. About five minutes ago, I got a call from Denver Memorial Hospital.”
Azalea swayed slightly.
“A man was brought in five days ago,” Damon continued. “Gunshot wound to the chest. No ID. He’s been in a coma until this morning.”
“Is it Greg?” Azalea’s voice cracked. “Is it my brother?”
“They don’t know,” Damon said. “But the timing fits. And he matches the general description I gave them based on what we knew about you.”
“I need to go.” Azalea turned to me, her green eyes fierce with determination. “I need to go to Denver right now.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said without hesitation.
“McCrae—” my mother started.
I cut her off. “I’m not letting her go alone.”
Kayla jumped in, her timing as terrible as always. “Wait, Azalea—are you married? Do you have a boyfriend back in Texas?”
“Kayla!” I snapped, heat rushing to my face. “Is this really the time?”
The entire room went silent.
Azalea looked nervous for a moment, then turned to me with a soft laugh that somehow cut through the tension.
“No, I’m not married. No boyfriend.” She put her hand out to me, a small smile playing on her lips despite the gravity of the situation.
“And this might be the wrong time to say it, but maybe I’m seeing this guy I met a couple of days ago here in Refuge Falls? ”
Something inside me broke loose. I took one quick step closer and pressed my lips to hers. Brief, but unmistakable. When I pulled back, her eyes were wide, but that smile had grown.
My family let out light laughter. Canyon whistled. My father cleared his throat, trying to hide his smile.
“Well,” my mother said, her eyes twinkling, “I guess that’s settled.”
The moment passed.
Azalea pulled me toward the door. “I’m sorry, we have to go.”
My father stepped forward, his weathered face drawn with concern. “Son, you need to think about this. If what she’s saying is true, there are dangerous people involved. People who might be looking for both of them.”
“All the more reason she shouldn’t go alone,” I argued.
Noah pushed away from the wall. “Dad’s right, McCrae. This isn’t some small-town dispute. We’re talking about organized crime, potentially.”
“I don’t care,” I said, my voice harder than intended. “I’m going.”
Canyon moved to stand beside me, surprising everyone. “Then I’m going too.”
“No,” I said firmly. “You need to stay here. All of you.” I looked around the room, meeting each family member’s eyes. “If something happens to us, I need to know you’re all safe and ready to help.”
“McCrae,” Kayla said, her voice small, “what if you don’t come back?”
The question hung in the air like smoke. I couldn’t answer it.
“We’ll come back,” Azalea said, reaching for Kayla’s hand. “I promise. I just need to know if that’s my brother. I need to see him.”
Damon sighed, rubbing his forehead. “The hospital’s expecting you. I’ve arranged for police protection in Denver. You’ll have an escort.”
“Thank you,” Azalea whispered.
I nodded to Damon, feeling overwhelmingly grateful for his vision.
My mother stepped forward, wrapping Azalea in a tight hug. “You come back to us, you hear? Both of you.” She pulled back, holding Azalea’s face in her hands. “You’ve already become part of this family.”
Tears welled in Azalea’s eyes. “I don’t deserve your kindness.”
“Nonsense,” my father said gruffly. “Armstrongs stick together. And right now, you’re with an Armstrong.”
I looked at my family; strong, stubborn, loyal to a fault. They were worried, but they understood. This was who we were. We protected people.
“We need to move,” I said, checking my watch.
My mother hugged me too.
I hugged her quickly.
Ella came forward. “Be careful, McCrae.”
“Always am,” I replied, trying for a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes.
Dylan approached next, handing me an envelope. “Emergency funds. And a burner phone. Don’t use your regular cell more than necessary.”
I nodded, tucking both into my jacket pocket. Dylan, ever the lawyer, was thinking five steps ahead. “Thank you.”
Azalea stood surrounded by my family, looking both overwhelmed and grateful. Something fierce and protective surged within me. I’d known her less than a week, and already I couldn’t imagine my life without her in it.
We were about to leave when my mother raised her hand. “Wait. Armstrongs pray together too.” She looked around the room, her gaze settling on each of us in turn. “Let’s say a prayer and ask for God’s protection on both of you.” She turned to Azalea with a gentle smile. “And your brother.”
We formed a circle, hands linked. My father’s callused palm was in my right hand; Azalea’s slender fingers were in my left.
My mother closed her eyes. “Heavenly Father,” she began, her voice steady and sure, “we ask for your divine protection over McCrae and Azalea as they travel to Denver. Guard them against all harm and guide their steps. Be with them as they search for answers, and Lord, if it is your will, let them find Azalea’s brother safe and healing.
Give the doctors wisdom. Give Greg strength.
And Lord, bring them all back to us safely. In Jesus’ name, amen.”
“Amen,” we echoed, the word hanging in the quiet room.
“Let’s go,” I said softly, squeezing Azalea’s arm.
She nodded, saying quick goodbyes to my family.
“Be ready for anything,” Damon warned. “And call me the moment you know something.”
“We will.”
As we stepped out of the station, Azalea’s hand found mine. Her fingers were cold, but her grip was strong. “Whatever happens in Denver,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear I knew was coursing through her, “thank you for coming with me.”
I squeezed her hand. “Whatever happens in Denver,” I echoed, “it will be okay.”