Chapter Twenty-Nine
He blinked incredulously.
Gene Hammond.
Seth’s world tilted. His stomach dropped so fast he thought he might puke.
Holy shit.
Shock pinged Seth’s system. He’d seen the truth, and his brain raced to catch up.
The past sixteen years—every memory, every conversation, every moment—snapped into sharp, horrifying focus.
Gene. His dad’s best friend. His partner.
The man who’d been a pallbearer at Michael Cooper’s funeral and wept.
The cop who’d saved Seth’s life when he was sixteen and hell-bent on wrapping his car around a concrete barrier at a hundred miles per hour.
The “friend” who’d checked in and watched over his mother all these years, who’d attended her wedding with that easy grin and fatherly grip on his shoulder.
The man Seth had just told thirty minutes ago exactly where he was going.
Who knew Seth was alone and unarmed with sixteen years’ worth of evidence that could destroy him.
Who was sitting in his mother’s family room, drinking mimosas—alone with everyone he loved.
Heavenly. Beck. Hudson. His mother. Carl.
He had to get back. Had to act fast. Had to figure out how the fuck to keep them all alive.
Thirty minutes. Not a second more, or I’m coming after you.
What Seth had interpreted as a promise suddenly skidded through his brain in warning. In mere minutes, Gene would come looking for him. How long now? Fifteen? Ten? Less?
Seth’s heart lurched. He didn’t dare read more now.
Then again, he didn’t need to.
Breaths sawing in and out of his chest, Seth slammed the binder shut.
His hands shook, and he nearly lost his grip on the goddamn binder as he shoved it back into the pouch, beside the gun, the cash, and the video tape.
He zipped it closed and tucked it under his arm, the weight of it both grounding and terrifying.
Then Seth forced himself to move, locking the unit with trembling fingers. When the padlock clicked into place, he ducked back into the hallway, the leather container clutched tightly under his arm.
The building felt too quiet. Too still. He didn’t like it. Every footstep echoed. Every camera lens seemed to track his movement.
He was alone.
Unarmed.
And carrying something people had killed for. Something people had died for.
The gun in the pouch might work. But after sitting in a storage unit for sixteen years, it could just as easily misfire. Seth couldn’t risk finding out the hard way.
His pounding heart roared in his ears as he forced his legs to carry him toward the exit. He tried to keep his breathing even, tried to keep his unsteady legs from giving out.
Stay alert. Keep your head on a swivel. Get home.
It seemed like half an eternity before Seth pushed through the facility’s back door and stepped into the parking lot. The morning sun hit his face, too bright, too normal. The gate was still open. His mother’s SUV sat where he’d left it, maybe thirty yards away.
But the hair on the back of his neck stood up. He felt eyes on him.
A sound that didn’t belong echoed across the lot—a scrape of gravel, a shift of weight.
Seth’s head snapped toward it. He saw nothing except rows of storage units casting long shadows.
Too many places for people to hide. Too many possibilities for this to go sideways. But he couldn’t afford to be cautious; he had to get the fuck out of here.
He started moving again, faster now. The pouch pressed against his ribs as he scanned left, right, behind.
Another sound. Closer this time.
His hand twitched toward his pocket—toward his phone. He couldn’t call 911. Anyone—everyone—at the precinct could be dirty. Seth couldn’t risk it.
Nor could he text Beck and tell him to get everyone the fuck out of that house. Any contact risked tipping Gene off. One wrong word, one panicked message, and Specter would know Seth had found something damning.
And a cornered man with that much power and everything to lose? He’d go scorched earth, burn it all down.
Seth couldn’t risk that, either. He had to get home. Had to walk back into that house and pretend he’d found nothing. That the storage unit had been locked, inaccessible. Empty.
He had to lie to Gene’s face and pray the bastard believed him.
Move. Now.
Seth broke into a jog, closing the distance to the SUV. Twenty yards. Fifteen.
Then he heard pounding footsteps. Fast. Heavy. Directly behind him.
Seth’s instincts screamed. He twisted sharply, clutching the pouch tighter under his arm, eyes scanning for cover—a corner, a doorway, anything.
But there was nowhere to go.
And someone he couldn’t get eyes on yet was coming for him.
Midday sun slanted in through the kitchen window as Heavenly dried another serving platter.
The last few of Grace’s friends from church had stopped by after the later mass, staying only long enough to sip coffee and congratulate the newlyweds. Now they’d all gone. Just family remained.
In the family room, Beck stacked the last of the folding chairs against the wall while Hudson sat curled on the couch, thumbs flying across his phone, completely absorbed in whatever game he played.
The house had settled into an easy post-brunch lull.
Heavenly exhaled, but she couldn’t seem to settle in the quiet. She’d finally breathe when she was on the plane. Another eight hours…
Grace sighed contentedly. “Brunch was lovely, but I’m glad it’s over. Now I can relax a little.”
Carl set more dirty dishes beside her and grinned. “You’ll be planning another party tomorrow.”
“Hush!” Grace laughed, playfully swatting his arm with her soapy fingers.
Heavenly watched them with a smile, the thought she’d held at bay all morning drifting back in.
Pregnant.
Though Beck and Seth had told her a mere six hours ago, her feet still hadn’t touched the ground.
She was going to have a baby. Their baby.
The knowledge still didn’t feel real. But it was. A tiny life was growing inside her right now, invisible and perfect. And terrifying.
Heavenly’s hand drifted toward her stomach before she caught herself. She didn’t dare give their secret away, especially with Grace right beside her. Instead, Heavenly pretended to brush a non-existent crumb off her slacks and dropped her hand.
Some part of her wanted to tell Grace in the hopes her face would light up with pure, unguarded joy the way it had when the woman had first hugged Hudson. But Heavenly couldn’t. Not until Seth told her the truth.
A truth that might have his mother shunning their child. A truth that might cost Seth everything.
Heavenly’s chest tightened, but she did her best to tuck the worry away as she turned back to the dishes.
When she turned, she caught Beck watching her, his gaze steady and warm. When their eyes met, something passed between them—a quiet understanding that didn’t need words. A sweetly whispered secret.
We made a baby.
The corners of his mouth lifted. Just barely. But enough.
Heavenly’s heart squeezed. She ached to cross the room, wrap her arms around him, press her face into his chest, and just feel this moment with him. Instead, she settled for a clandestine smile in return.
But he understood. She saw it in his eyes.
Despite all the secrecy and uncertainty, their connection grounded her. Steadied her. Beck was her constant. So was Seth, except…
He’d bolted for the stairs when Grace asked him to run out for more orange juice, as if he’d been waiting for an excuse to escape. She hadn’t noticed it earlier—she’d been too focused on keeping the fruit and pastry platters replenished—but Seth had seemed a bit off.
Because of the baby?
After he’d lost Autumn and Tristan, she knew he’d carried a mountain of guilt. She also knew that fatherhood still terrified him on some level. She understood why.
Maybe Seth didn’t see how good he was with Hudson. Patient. Present. Then again, Hudson was sixteen—nearly grown. A baby was different. A baby was helpless. Vulnerable. A baby would need Seth in ways that Hudson never would.
But Seth wanted a family again.
True…but wanting something and being ready for it weren’t the same thing.
What if the reality of it was too much? What if his fear strangled his hopes for the future?
Maybe she was borrowing trouble.
Maybe Seth was just anxious about sitting Grace down and explaining that Heavenly was Beck’s fiancée, too.
She prayed Grace accepted them, that she wanted to be a part of their lives. Of her grandchildren’s lives.
If she refused, that would crush Seth.
Across the room, Gene yanked his phone from his pocket, dragging Heavenly from her musings. He glanced at the screen, then slid the device away. A few seconds later, he repeated the whole process again.
Was he checking the time? Wondering when Seth would be back? Heavenly glanced at the front door, wondering that herself.
Another ten minutes passed. The kitchen was almost spotless now—dishes done, counters wiped down, leftovers tucked into the fridge.
Grace hummed softly as she folded the last dish towel. “You’ve been such a help, sweetheart. Thank you.”
“Of course. Everything was lovely.”
“I can’t wait to help you plan your wedding,” Grace said wistfully. “Have you and Seth talked about what you want yet?”
Heavenly’s chest tightened. You might not care after tomorrow.
But she forced a smile. “A little. Nothing concrete yet. We’re still figuring out a timeline.”
“Well, whenever you’re ready, I’m here.” Grace squeezed her hand warmly.
With the cleanup finally done, Grace flipped off the kitchen light and gestured her toward the family room. “Come on. Let’s finally sit down and enjoy the afternoon.”
Heavenly followed her to the couch, where Hudson was still glued to his phone, thumbs flying across the screen. Without looking up, he shifted to make room for them.
Grace smirked and leaned closer to Hudson. “What are you playing on that thing?”
“Football,” he replied, stare locked on the screen.