Secrets in the Deep (Deep River #4)

Chapter 1

Emily Prior’s heart beat so hard it felt like it was trying to punch out of her chest. Her feet hit the uneven ground in a fast, steady rhythm, each step slamming her boots into the dirt.

Away. She had to get away.

But she wasn’t moving fast enough.

Loud, angry steps thudded behind her.

Chasing. Hunting.

She chanced a glance over her shoulder. Mistake. Big mistake. The pale blue of the mask combined with the glint of the knife caused fear to lurch in her chest and made her foot catch on a tree root.

She tripped. Her knee, already aching from an old injury, hit the ground hard, shooting pain up to her hip.

There was no time to stop though. To catch her breath or let the pain subside.

She pushed to her feet, begging her body to keep going, for her knee not to give out. Distance. That was what she needed. As much as possible between her and the masked threat.

Branches clawed at the thin material of her sweater, the forest swallowing her loud, ragged breaths. Early morning sunlight slipped between the branches, lighting just a hint of the path in front of her.

The footsteps behind grew louder.

Another glance over her shoulder.

Closer. Too close.

Panic tightened her chest, trees now feeling like they were crowding her. Suffocating.

She sped up, her left knee screaming with each step.

She veered right. Her foot slipped. She crashed to the ground hard enough to knock the air out of her. Cold earth soaked through her clothes, her knee throbbing so violently she couldn’t hold in the groan.

Suddenly, a shadow stole the small light on the ground around her. She rolled to her back, the glint of the knife the first thing she saw. The pale blue mask next.

They lifted the knife over their head and…

“Cut!”

Air hissed from Emily’s lungs as the forest came alive around her. Voices and movement. Cameras lowering and crew members changing positions.

The mask was pulled up and Faye grinned at her. “Good work. You really crashed out hard.”

Yeah, she’d crashed hard twice, and her knee wasn’t letting her forget it. “Thanks.”

“Good energy, guys. That’s it for the morning.” Roscoe, the director, clapped his hands before looking at Faye. “You need to work on your run. None of this pansy arm shit.”

The smile dropped from Faye’s face. “I’ve been working with my PT. I thought I was—”

“You’re not. Do better or we’re finding a stunt double.”

“Stop being a jerk and speak to her nicely, Roscoe.” Emily groaned as she pushed to her feet.

Pain. So much pain.

Her stunt double had unfortunately dropped out of the project last minute. Roscoe said he would replace her, but when that would happen, she had no idea. The person certainly wasn’t here today.

It was an effort not to limp as she crossed to the craft service table and grabbed a bottle of water.

“Here.” Her mother opened her palm to reveal two Advil.

Emily had already downed two a few hours ago, but the time had probably kicked over for more.

She swallowed them with water as her mother leaned closer and whispered, “You need to stop limping. People are watching.”

And just like that, frustration over her bad knee took a back seat to annoyance over her mother. “Yes, Mom, I’m okay. Thank you for asking. And yes, I would love a break.”

“Emily Quinn, lower your voice. People will hear. You don’t want them questioning whether you can handle this. We only got this opportunity because the lead actress had an accident. Thank God for that.”

Emily blinked. “You didn’t just say that.”

“Say what?”

“First—I was offered this role before her. I turned it down. Second—that actress is in a coma. So you’re saying thank God she almost died?”

Her mother rolled her eyes. “Stop being so dramatic. I’m not saying it isn’t sad for her. Just that her little accident helped us. You should never have turned down this role without my consultation. Roscoe is the best director in the business.”

Jesus.

Her mother continued to praise Roscoe, but Emily blocked her out as she took in the scene around her. The camera crew. Hair and makeup, who’d set up little tables out here in the middle of the forest.

It was a bustle of people, all here to make her look like a star so they could film the best movie possible. She should be happy. She should be smiling ear to ear. This was everything she’d once wanted.

So why did it feel so…empty?

Her gaze caught on Roscoe. He was talking to a group of guys. The men all had their backs to her, but they were tall. Well over six feet. And broad. God, the width of their shoulders had to be almost double hers.

For a second, her mind flicked back to—

No. Don’t do that, Emily.

She pushed it down. The image of him that flashed behind her eyes. The sound of his voice in her head. She forced it all away.

She hadn’t thought about him in a long time, and she certainly couldn’t afford to think about him now, while at work.

“Don’t you think, darling?”

She turned to her mother, studying the older woman’s hazel eyes. Her big blonde curls. Features so similar to her own. But similar in appearance did not translate to similar in any other way.

“Sure.” She’d realized long ago that it was usually easier to just agree. “I’m going back to my trailer.”

They were done for the day. Thank God. It was only the first day of filming and she already needed to rest her knee.

Maybe she’d soak in the tub at the inn. With some Epsom salt and wine.

Oh, and some cheese and crackers. Heck, she might even turn off her phone, put on music, and just block out the world.

Heaven.

She took a step away from the group.

“All right, everyone, listen up,” Roscoe called.

So close.

With a sigh, she turned to the food table to study the snacks. If he wanted another take, she might cry. If she was feeling dramatic enough, she might even drop to the dirt and claim a mental breakdown.

Ha. Her mother would love that.

“That was a good take, and we’ve all earned a rest. But before anyone goes, I need to introduce you to some people.

These five guys are the local search and rescue.

If you see them around, don’t be alarmed, they’re meant to be here.

Despite my insistence that we were fine, the studio hired them to keep locals and tourists who hike in the area from wandering onto the set. Ryan’s the leader.”

Ryan.

The familiar name whispered in her head. She’d trained herself not to react to that name anymore. Not externally, anyway. It was everywhere though, like it followed her—to coffee shops, grocery stores, onto planes.

But it was never him.

She turned, her gaze cutting through the crew, the actors, and extras. She saw Roscoe first. The annoyed pinch of his brow. The thin line of his lips. He was short. Probably close to her size, which made the men look even bigger.

She looked beside him to…Connor?

She froze. Her lungs stopped functioning. Her pulse faltered. For a second, she didn’t even feel her aching knee.

Then she continued down the line of men.

Zac.

Ethan.

Joel.

Blood drained from her head at the last man—and for a single heartbeat, she forgot how to breathe.

Tall. Dark hair. A black tee hugging a body she knew by heart.

Everything about him was familiar. And yet…also different. There was a new hardness in his gaze.

A gaze fixed directly on her.

Her mother gripped her arm so tightly she almost broke skin with her nails. Then her mother uttered one whispered word. “No.”

But there was no wishing this away.

It was Ryan. Her Ryan. Her mind wasn’t betraying her. After years of thinking of him, remembering and missing him, he was here, right in front of her. They stood in the same woods, the same town. A man she’d loved and lost.

But unlike her, he didn’t look surprised to see her.

She didn’t hear anything Roscoe said. There was a roaring of blood between her ears. A white noise so loud, it blocked out every other sound.

Ryan’s expression was hard. Intense. Completely unreadable.

Breathe, Emily. You need to breathe.

But she couldn’t. She wanted to run but she wasn’t sure in which direction. Away? Toward? Somewhere so isolated no one would find her?

“I’m going to fix this,” her mother whispered into her ear. “I’m going to make sure he can’t hurt you again.”

She barely registered her mother walking away. Or Faye coming toward her, a grin on her face as she began talking. Words like “huge” and “hot” and “protection” slipped through Emily’s haze. But nothing made sense right now. Not Faye. Not the fact that Ryan was standing a few yards away.

“So cute,” Faye whispered, the words finally penetrating.

Emily almost laughed. Maybe she would have if she wasn’t having a complete internal meltdown. These men weren’t cute. They were dangerous. Former special operations. Former Navy SEALs, one of the most elite units in the military.

The crowd began to disperse. Ryan took a step in her direction.

She stumbled back. Her knee buckled, and she barely caught herself.

“Emily.” Faye touched her arm. “Are you okay?”

No. She wasn’t okay or calm or in the slightest bit prepared.

More steps. He was closing the distance between them, his strides long and sure.

Away. She needed to get away.

She spun, her knee almost buckling a second time. She was stubborn though, locking it into place and ignoring the pain shooting up to her hip as she speed-walked through the trees, toward her trailer.

It was probably stupid. Who in their right mind would run from a Navy SEAL? That was like starting a race you were never going to win.

Still, she moved through the forest like she was being chased.

“Emily, stop.”

The deep familiar rumble of his voice almost had her tripping again.

She walked faster, but his footsteps behind her grew louder. Closer. Like a scene from the movie she’d just shot, only this was terrifyingly real.

Two more strides and his large form was suddenly beside her. And even though they were outside, even though she hadn’t seen the man in over five years, he still smelled exactly the same. Like warmth and evergreen and this unique Ryan scent all mixed together.

“Emily, please stop and talk to me.”

She shook her head. “You’re not here.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re still in the Navy. Or maybe you’re in Camden. But you are not here.” The ache in her knee began to throb.

“Why are you limping?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Why not?”

She spun on him. “You broke up with me.”

“Emi—”

“No. You don’t get to call me that. You don’t get to follow me or tell me to stop or ask me why I’m limping. Because you broke up with me. You broke my damn heart.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw, the motion as familiar as the rest of him. “I know that.”

“You do? You remember telling me we were over and refusing to let me have a say?”

“Emi—”

“I said don’t.” She started walking again, but his loud steps still thumped behind her. Air barely made it into her lungs. Her chest felt tight, her skin hot, and the world was a blur around her.

She didn’t have the emotional strength for this. Not today. Not after that grueling scene. Maybe not ever.

The trailers came into view.

Thank God.

“I live here now.”

His deep voice slipped inside her.

She swallowed hard. Don’t look at him, Emily. Do not let him see through your armor.

“I’ve been out for almost eighteen months,” he continued. “I spent the first twelve at home in Camden with Nora. Then this job popped up and—”

She spun on him again. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to know.”

Did he not see that it hurt her to hear his voice? It hurt just to look at him. Because all she could see was everything she’d lost. “I’m going to walk into my trailer, and I don’t want you to follow me. I don’t want you to watch me go. I just want you to turn around and leave me alone.”

Something deep inside her called out the lie. Only the last part. It did hurt to have him so close. But there was also this other part of her, a part she wasn’t quite ready to acknowledge, that felt like a little piece of her old self was returned to her when he was close.

But she couldn’t afford to listen to that. She was here for a job. She had a life outside of Montana. One she’d built without him. A life he’d forced her to build without him.

“Emi—”

“Don’t.” Her voice was so quiet she wasn’t sure it crossed the distance.

The nickname hurt. It all hurt. Him. This moment. Them.

And she wanted away from all of it. Far, far away.