Chapter 1
Tate Madden
“Daddy! Daddy Lee, Daddy, Daddy!”
“Daddy, hi! Hi! Catch me!”
I grinned to myself and threw the rag on the counter before I left the kitchen. Just in time for me to see Kingsley scoop up the girls.
Daddy’s home.
That was the last time he worked overtime on a Saturday for the rest of the year—but it was worth it. We’d both pulled extra hours to pay off a family vacation coming up in October, and it was always nice to have everything square before we set foot on the cruise ship.
“How are my girls?” He peppered their faces with kisses, and they giggled and grabbed at his face. “I hear we’re going swimming at Grandma and Grandpa’s.”
“Yeah!” Zoe was the most excited. She may have been a fish in her former life.
My parents had a pool, and it was hot as balls out, so it suited me.
I walked over to him and managed to get a quick kiss in before Kaley and Zoe could land a stray fist in my face. They were freaking wild, those two.
“I made you a snack. I thought we could leave in twenty.”
“Sounds great, but get back here. That was a lousy kiss, baby.”
I beamed and snuck close again. “Lower your weapons, sweethearts.” I put a hand on Kaley’s little paws, but she and her sister had another idea. They wanted down again.
Okay, that was a better kiss. Kingsley should clearly be in charge of all of them.
He squeezed me to him too, as the girls stormed off to finish packing their pool toys.
To two three-year-olds, that was whatever they wanted to swim with.
“I missed you today,” he murmured. “I had lunch with Franklin and almost tore him a new one when he tried to steal the last of the quesadilla you made me.”
I laughed and nuzzled his neck. “He told me. He called and asked for advice on how to get back into your good graces as fast as humanly possible—his words—so that our playtime tomorrow doesn’t begin with a punishment.”
He snorted under his breath and pressed a kiss to my temple. “He can stew on that for a while. Lemme go change, and then I can eat that snack on the way to your parents’.”
It was a plan. I couldn’t wait to cool off.
Lucas Carter
“Nope, that’s enough. You need to eat, darlin’. C’mere.” Colt grabbed my hand and dragged me in from the patio. “The boys don’t need constant watchin’.”
I wasn’t so sure. Both Corey and Kit could be reckless around the pool. What would it look like if we returned Corey to Sloan and Greer with bruises all over? They’d think we’d punished him for something.
Colt did have a point, though. I could be too much of a worrier.
“They need to get out of the water soon,” I reminded Colt. “They have to shower before we drive out to Mclean.”
“I’ll handle it,” he assured me. He ushered me into the kitchen and pulled out a stool. “Sit.”
I sat. “Do you need help—”
He shut me up with a low growling sound and a look of warning.
I grinned.
He hauled out yesterday’s lasagna and placed a piece in the microwave.
“You do know we’re eating at the house in less than three hours,” I felt the need to say.
He nodded once. “I also know you barely touched lunch. I saw your plate in the sink.”
Yes, well… I loved Kit with all my heart—and Corey was such a precious boy, but…they should steer clear of the kitchen.
“You didn’t try it,” I replied. I’d started my vacation earlier this week.
Colt was starting his today, after working late all month.
In other words, he’d had takeout with his coworkers for lunch.
I had eaten Kit and Corey’s pasta creation that included spaghetti, half a bottle of ketchup, crushed tomatoes, A.
1. sauce, garlic, diced tomatoes, tomato paste, a very generous helping of salt, and, in Corey’s words, “We gotta add lemon, ’cause Archie says it’s an underrated ingredient. ”
It’d been very…tomato-y.
They’d looked so proud. I hadn’t been able to show an ounce of honesty.
Colt winced. “Was it worse than the cookies after they mistook the salt for sugar?”
“Close,” I chuckled.
“Bless their hearts. But you could’ve eaten somethin’ else once they were done defilin’ the kitchen,” he pointed out. He rounded the kitchen island and walked toward me.
I smiled and shrugged. “I was okay, sweetheart. I had some grapes, I got lost in a good book, and I watched the boys goof off in the pool.”
It happened like clockwork every summer as we got closer to ninety-five degrees and 400% humidity—Corey tagged along with Greer to work and spent the day with Kit and sometimes the other brats in and around our pool. If they didn’t meet up in Mclean.
Meanwhile, if Winchester weren’t so far away, I would’ve preferred spending the summer in their natural pool, or whatever I was supposed to call it.
They’d dug a fairly large swimming hole in the stream that ran through their property, with almost zero maintenance required.
Clean, fresh water and at the perfect temperature in the summer.
Corey loved that too, but as he said, he couldn’t do flips there. So the daredevil came to us.
Colt hummed and stopped in front of me, and I tugged him closer by his belt.
“It’s nice finally having you home,” I murmured. He’d had a busy year so far, with MadCo doing very well. “Two weeks of zero plans.”
He dipped down and kissed me. “Exactly what I need.” One of his hands came up to my jaw, and he brushed his thumb over the corner of my mouth. “No settin’ the alarm, no obligations.”
None whatsoever. “Well…” That wasn’t entirely true. “You do have a husband and a little boy with big appetites.”
He smiled faintly before he deepened the kiss. “I’ll take care of you both. Don’t you doubt that.”
I never had.
I was ready to get lost in the kiss right when his phone rang, which reminded me. That thing needed to be muted now that he was off work.
“It better be important,” he muttered.
Greer Finlay
Ten more minutes, and then I wasn’t pulling into this lot for a whopping six weeks. It’d finally started paying off to run my own business with my brothers. Extended vacations and an income that fed the whole family.
I idled for a bit in my parking space, wanting to check my messages before I climbed out into the blistering heat.
I’d gotten a solid workout today with heavy deliveries all over DC. On a fucking Saturday. I deserved this vacation. Colt and I may have bitched to each other about working the weekend. It should be outlawed at our age.
First things first, respond to Corey’s latest message.
I won’t forget your jammies, baby. They’re here. See you in 30.
He’d left his PJs in my truck this morning after digging through his overnight bag for something.
Next, Sloan’s message—he’d let me know he and Archie had just dropped the kids off at the grandparents’.
They were literally the best part of Sloan’s ex-wife.
She could stay in Chicago forever for all I cared, as long as her parents were around.
They were amazing and wanted as much time as possible with the kids, including Kyla and Dylan.
Can’t fucking wait. Ask Archie if we need anything else from the store. I’ll be at the house in about 30.
Dog sitter confirmed, check, yes, Venmo, got it, text from Angus…
Yup, we were coming up for a barbecue in a couple of weeks.
Already talked to Ma today, and I was caught up on Roe and Jake’s podcast, all done.
I was really fucking ready for this vacation.
We’d start off slow with a lot of chilling and some fun activities with the kids.
Then we were off to Denmark to meet Corey’s family there.
Ty and Lane would fly out toward the end of our visit too, so it’d be nice to get a few days with them in Copenhagen as well.
I sent a text to my brothers in the group chat. The company-related one.
That’s it. I’m fucking done. Muting this chat for six weeks, fuckers. Adios.
I’d never had a vacation last this long. I was gonna enjoy every second.
The only thing I’d miss was the driving.
I fucking loved driving. Best part of my job.
My truck was my office, and I had everything I needed within reach.
All the snacks Archie made me, coffee in my cupholder, all my podcasts and audiobooks—and I could drive my office into a drive-thru and pick up food.
Though, I didn’t mention the latter to Archie.
I loved him and his fantastic food to pieces, but every now and then, I wanted a greasy burger and a strawberry shake.
Dammit. My phone dinged with another text, this one from Cullen.
I can’t get ahold of Crew, and I just saw this.
I furrowed my brow. It was a link to a news story from a Los Angeles news network.
brEAKING: EXPLOSION AT CARLSBAD RANCH. MULTIPLE FATALITIES.
Cullen texted again.
Crew posted this photo on his Insta yesterday. Tell me that’s not the same ranch. Have you heard from the Tenleys?
A screenshot of Crew’s Insta photo popped up, and I read the caption.
This is where Toby, Madison, and I will be chilling tonight. Be jealous, bitches.
A rock of unease settled in my gut, because the thumbnail photo from the link alone was enough to determine it was the same ranch. More than that, Shay had posted a photo on the Mclean forum yesterday that’d been awfully similar. The pool, same ranch in the background.
I scanned the article quickly.
…story is currently developing…
LATEST UPDATE 10:43…
God-fucking-dammit.
I checked my watch. Almost three thirty here, and we were three hours ahead of the West Coast.
The fire department had arrived on the scene first, last night. The fire hadn’t been disastrous, restricted to the backyard and quickly contained and put out, but after that…
…with several casualties…
…military-grade weapons…
“Over a dozen dead on the lawn,” said firefighter Hugo Gonzales. “That was just the initial head count. It was mayhem—like scenes from a war.”
I swallowed hard—and was startled when the phone suddenly rang.
It was Cullen.
“Did you read the article?” he pressed.
“Yeah.” Fuck, my mouth was dry. “Do you know if anyone we know has been injured?”
“There’s another article. I haven’t read it yet. I’m scouring the news sources. I’ll send it. Three people have been kidnapped, Greer. There’s gonna be a press conference in two hours.”
What the fuck?
I put him on speaker so I could start Googling as well, but I started with the second link he’d sent.
YOUNG GIRL AMONG THE THREE VICTIMS WHO WERE KIDNAPPED.
Mother of fucking hell, what was going on?
River and Reese had talked about their week in San Diego.
They were gonna help an old friend get settled in his new house—the damn ranch in the photos—and Shay had been excited about learning how to surf.
Instead, the words that came at me from the article…
Targeted attack, ongoing investigation, possible link to a drug cartel, death, ambush, seriously injured victims, and yeah, three people kidnapped. A woman, a young girl, and a young man.
“A young man. That could be both Crew and Shay,” I muttered.
“I’ll get back to you—someone’s calling.” The call was dropped.
I started bouncing my knee, and I clenched my jaw.
I had to think rationally here. The odds of all three Tenleys being injured or worse were astronomical.
Right? And Crew was fine. Yes? Who else was there?
We’d gotten to know the Quinns a bit after last year’s clusterfuck.
They might be there too. Emerson and his husband, maybe.
I knew Kyle wasn’t there, at least. He’d been invited, but he was off somewhere.
When the fuck did so many in my family get mixed up with PMCs?
The Tenleys were fine. River and Reese had been two of those PMCs for a long time.
While I tried to convince myself everything was gravy, I searched for more news articles, but one thing was clear.
The news was still breaking, and very few details seemed to have been confirmed properly.
That said, when kidnapping was involved, it was vital to reach out to the public quickly.
Any potential leads had to be reported to the police.
A young man.
I sent a quick text to Reese.
I need to know that you, River, Shay, and Crew are all right.
I blew out a breath and glanced toward the warehouse.
The weight settling on my chest could fuck all the way off.
Instead of being surrounded by our delivery trucks, I needed this very moment to be more of what I’d had in the past. Uniforms, structured briefings, and orders.
Civilian life came without a chain of command.
Thank fuck, Cullen called back. I answered it before the first ring had stopped sounding.
“Gimme somethin’ good,” I demanded.
“That was Reese.” He rushed out the words. “He still feels a bit responsible for Crew. My boy’s fine. Thank God. Crew is okay. But—” He cleared his throat.
I gnashed my teeth. Reese and I were pretty damn close. He hadn’t become friends with Cullen until last year, so for him to call my brother before he called me…?
Only one reason came to mind. Reese couldn’t handle talking to someone he was close to at the moment. He couldn’t handle follow-up questions.
“Say it,” I gritted out.
Cullen sighed heavily. “Shay’s one of the hostages. I’m sorry, little brother.”
Fucking hell.
My stomach twisted painfully, and a wave of fury washed over me, red-hot and all-consuming.
“They’ll be releasing the names with pictures at the press conference,” he went on grimly. “It was Elliott Jones’s niece—that’s Crew’s boss, Elliott—a coworker’s wife, and Shay. They were taken in the attack.”
I shook my head and scrubbed a hand over my mouth and jaw.
“They will find them, Greer. Everyone who’s battle-ready has already disappeared. They’re not leavin’ this to the authorities.”
No, I’d imagine they weren’t. But that was good. It gave me a sense of direction. I knew what to do.
“If Reese calls back, let him know I’m on standby for anything,” I told him. “I’m gonna send him a message—”
“I already told him. He knows. If they need help, you and I are ready,” he promised. “I would’ve volunteered Kyle too, if he wasn’t balls deep in tryna settle into civilian life. But Crew doesn’t know we’re aware of his role in this yet, and I wanna keep it that way for now. He gets defensive.”
I nodded to myself. “Okay. I’m still gonna text Reese, but all right. We’ll talk later. If you hear anything, let me know.”
“Same to you. Talk soon.” He hung up.
I screwed my eyes shut for one second and saw Shay’s smirks and heard his laughter echo in my skull. I couldn’t fucking believe it. He’d been through enough, that cocky sweetheart.
Opening my eyes again, I went back to my text conversation with Reese, and I left him another message.
I talked to Cullen. Bring your boy home. If you need help with anything, I’m here, whether you need me in combat gear or just to head over to Shay’s aunt and brothers.
Now to face our community…
I called Colt. I needed him by my side—not to mention Lucas. Lucas flew under the radar sometimes, but he was damn organized in a crisis. A few years ago, after the fire at the house, it was Lucas who’d kept track of everyone in the aftermath.