Chapter 3
THREE
EMMA
Okay, so maybe I’m not duct-taped to a chair.
Yet.
But the way Rhett is looking at me—with those sharp eyes like he’s trying to x-ray straight through my skull—I probably shouldn’t push my luck.
Except pushing my luck is kind of what I do best.
I’m seated on a beat-up leather couch in a cold, windowless room that smells faintly like coffee and testosterone. Rhett and a few of his… what? Coworkers? Commandos? Secret Navy SEAL cosplay club?—they’re all standing around like they’re trying to decide whether to interrogate me or sedate me.
“Let’s try this again,” Rhett says, crouching in front of me, elbows on his knees. His voice is low, calm, and terrifyingly patient. “How did you find Haven 7?”
I meet his gaze. Hold it. Lie straight through my teeth. “I have my ways.”
He doesn’t flinch. “You broke into a covert facility that doesn't exist. That requires more than Google Maps and a good vibe.”
I shrug. “You’d be surprised what you can find with a library card and an unhealthy amount of time on Reddit.” I definitely don’t tell who I found them because of my father. A man they all know well, and probably barely even remember.
Someone behind him snorts. I glance past Rhett and spot one of the others, a tall guy with shaggy blond hair and a smirk that probably gets him punched a lot.
“Chase,” Rhett growls without turning around.
“What?” the blond guy says, holding up his hands. “I like her style. She’s got charisma. It’s fun.”
“She’s not here to entertain you.”
“Too bad,” Chase says, dropping into a chair and grinning at me. “You got a name, Miss Charisma?”
“Emma,” I say. “Emma Lincoln. And I’m not here to play twenty questions. I’m here to find my sister.”
Rhett stands up slowly, like he’s trying not to scare me—but let’s be honest, the guy could whisper sweet nothings and still look like he’s about to break someone's kneecaps.
“She went missing six days ago,” I continue, folding my hands tightly in my lap. “But I think something was wrong before that.”
“What do you mean?” a deep voice rumbles from the doorway.
I turn—and almost swallow my tongue. The guy standing there is built like a wall with eyes. Military haircut. Scar over one brow. He looks like he bench-presses tanks for fun.
“I mean,” I say, voice slightly higher now, “she was seeing this guy. A cop.”
Rhett stiffens.
I keep going. “His name was Mark Renshaw. On paper, he’s clean. Shiny badge, commendations, good record. But I never liked him. Too smooth. Too… plastic. Like he was playing a part.”
Scarface Wall Man narrows his eyes. “And you think he’s involved?”
“I don’t know. But something about him never sat right with me. And then Mia started acting weird. Pulling away. Flinching when her phone rang. She wouldn’t talk to me about it.”
Rhett crosses his arms. “You said you found a note?”
“Yeah.” I dig into my hoodie pocket and pull out the folded receipt I’ve been carrying like a talisman. “Back of a gas station receipt. Just two words: Haven 7.”
He takes it, scans it, frowns. “This is our name. But it’s not public.”
“No kidding.”
The scar-faced guy takes a step forward. “I’m Silas. Sheriff. You’ll be safe here. But we need to know everything. Every detail. Even if it seems small.”
I nod. “I’ve told you all I know. Mia was scared. She was pulling away. And then she was gone.”
Chase leans back, tossing a stress ball in one hand. “So she leaves a clue pointing to a place no one’s supposed to know exists… and you somehow find it.”
“She’s my sister,” I say, jaw tightening. “I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for her to turn up in a ditch.”
The room goes quiet.
Even Rhett’s expression softens, just a little. Just enough to make my chest ache.
Another man walks in—this one even taller than Rhett. Darker. Broodier. He glances at me with pale gray eyes that could probably freeze lava.
“Thorne,” he says, giving a short nod.
“Okay,” I mutter. “Is everyone here carved out of granite?”
Chase laughs. “You haven’t met Harlan yet. He’s worse.”
The guy next to Thorne—leaner, more dangerous-looking—just gives me a nod that could cut steel. I’m guessing that’s Harlan.
I sigh. “Great. So I’m trapped in a testosterone volcano with America’s hottest hit squad.”
Rhett pinches the bridge of his nose like he’s suddenly got a migraine.
“I’m serious,” I say, softer now. “If you knew Mia… she’s sunshine. Brave. She wouldn’t disappear unless she had no choice.”
Silas exchanges a look with Rhett. “We’ve heard Renshaw’s name before.”
“From where?” I ask, heart pounding.
“That’s classified,” Rhett says.
“Seriously?”
He sighs. “For now. But you’re not leaving this compound until we know more. And you’re not going anywhere without me.”
I lift a brow. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
“Depends how much you like handcuffs.”
Chase chokes on his water.
And even Rhett looks like he regrets speaking.
But me? I just smile. Because for the first time since Mia vanished, I don’t feel completely alone.
I’ve got a gut feeling. And it’s screaming one thing loud and clear.
Something bad has happened to my sister. And if these guys think I’m sitting on the sidelines while they play hero, they’ve got another thing coming.