Chapter 29
LUKE
“What do you mean, Isla is missing?” I roar into the phone, the sound ricocheting off the shredded walls of my father’s office.
“I don’t know, Luke,” Gabe fires back, voice tight, hurried. “But I’m trying to find out.”
My pulse slams in my ears. “How long?”
“Less than half an hour. She woke up, freaked when you weren’t there. I calmed her down. She went to change. I heard the shower running. Fifteen minutes later, I kicked in the door. The window was open, and her car was gone.”
Rage and disbelief claw up my throat. “And you didn’t hear any of this?”
“I was checking the perimeter and strategizing with my guys. I didn’t expect her to pull a damn John Wick,” he mutters. “Shitty shoes, no backup, concussed boyfriend. She picked a hell of a day to be brave.”
His sigh hisses static through the line. “I’m sorry. But we’ll find her.”
My hand trembles on the phone. “Isla’s out there, Gabe. And so is Nathaniel. And Ares. And who knows how many more? If she dies because I wasn’t there—”
“Listen to me.” His voice cuts like steel. “She had your watch, right? The one with the tracker?”
Relief crashes through me, so sudden it nearly drops me to my knees. “Yeah.”
“I’m running the signal. The mountains are interfering, but I’ve got a general location. She’s close to your parents’ place. That’s where she went. She was desperate to find you.”
I clutch the phone so tightly my knuckles crack, every nerve in me straining. “Where are you right now?”
“I’m on my way to you.”
“Turn around,” I snap. “Go back to my cabin and grab anything from Isla's—shirt, sweats, whatever you can find. The dogs will need her scent to track her. Then swing by your place and load up on every weapon you own. Meet me at my parents’ house as soon as you can.”
“Copy that.” The line goes dead.
I shove the phone into my pocket and reach for my gun. But as I push off the desk, the world tips like a carnival ride gone wrong. My vision tunnels, black creeping in at the edges.
Not now. Not when Isla’s out there.
“Luke!” Eden’s voice cuts through the ringing in my ears. She’s there in a heartbeat, her arms bracing around my waist, small but steady, holding me upright. “Whoa. You need to take it easy.”
My voice scrapes raw with frustration. “I can’t take it easy, Eden. Isla is missing. Nathaniel’s out there. Every second we stand here doing nothing could mean her life.”
“I understand. But what happens if you pass out on the ridge? You’ll be no good to her if you’re lying unconscious in a ditch.”
I bite back the urge to shove past her, anger tangled with helplessness boiling under my skin.
Across the room, Ryan finishes checking on Mom’s arm and walks over, medical bag already unzipped. “You’ve been keeping me busy this week.”
I lower myself onto the leather couch with a groan, trying to ignore the way my siblings circle closer like anxious sentries. The harsh beam of Ryan’s flashlight drills into my pupils, slicing my skull in two.
“You’ve got a concussion.”
“I know. But Isla doesn’t have the luxury of me sitting this out. Just stop the bleeding, stitch me up, and let me do my job.”
He exhales, raising his palms in surrender. “Alright. I’ll work fast.”
“Sorry,” I mutter, closing my eyes against the stabbing pain. “I just…I can’t think about anything else right now.”
“I know.” His voice softens. “Let’s get you patched so you can focus.”
Dalton, Chase, Eden, and Savannah settle in a semicircle, silent but watchful. Their faces blur at the edges of my vision until Ryan’s needle pierces flesh.
A jolt of fire tears through the back of my skull. I hiss but force the words out anyway. “I need to tell you something.”
The room stills.
Ryan pours antiseptic into the wound, and the sting blooms sharp, spreading like fire ants biting down in unison. I dig my nails into my palms and push through.
“After the shooting…I found out Nathaniel isn’t my father.”
Savannah gasps, stumbling back a step.
Eden covers her face, shoulders shaking as tears slip through her fingers.
Dalton doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe. His jaw remains locked, his stare hollow as though the ground beneath him has just vanished.
“You’re sure?” Dalton’s voice is barely more than a whisper.
I meet his eyes. “I’m sure, D.”
“But that’s not all.” My voice hardens, pulling them back. “If Nathaniel lied about that, imagine what else he’s hiding. And what I’ve already uncovered…”
I shake my head, the bitter taste on my tongue. “It goes deeper than any of us realized.”
Chase shoots up from his chair, arms folded tight across his chest, jaw clenched. “What exactly is he involved in?”
I hesitate, every muscle tight, my mind scrambling to line up the fragments of information I’ve gathered. “I don’t know the full extent yet,” I admit, forcing the words out.
“But it looks like he’s tangled in a lot of illegal dealings with people much more powerful than him. He can’t see a way out. And that makes him desperate.”
Savannah begins pacing, her footsteps quick and restless, as she mutters under her breath.
Eden sits frozen, biting at her nails, her gaze darting helplessly between us like a trapped bird.
Dalton’s eyes lock with mine, hard as steel, no hesitation. “So, we have to find him.”
Guilt stabs me like a blade. I’m asking them to hunt the man who raised them. I steady myself, but my voice comes out rough. “This is a lot to ask. He’s still your father. I know it’s a hell of a thing to process. And the longer he’s out there, the worse it gets—for this town, and for Mom.”
Dalton’s jaw ticks, his face unreadable, but he doesn’t step back. Chase moves to his side, shoulder brushing his, fire flashing in his eyes. A united front.
For years, I’ve wondered if I really belonged here, if some part of them could feel the lie written in my blood. But now, when it costs them the most, they plant themselves on my side.
“Tell us what you need, Luke,” Chase says. “We’re with you.”
Ryan clears his throat, pulling the last stitch tight at the back of my skull. “All done.”
I drag a breath into my chest. “I appreciate that more than you know. Gabe’s on his way. Along with some Cedar Hollow guys.”
Dalton pushes up his sleeves, the muscles in his forearms flexing like he’s already preparing for a fight.
“We need every set of eyes, every pair of boots on this ridge. Nathaniel’s out here somewhere.”
Eden’s voice is barely a whisper. “Do you think he has Isla?” She sits curled on the sofa, knees tucked under her chin, eyes huge and wet.
I kneel beside her, brushing back a strand of hair from her temple. My throat is tight, but I force calm into my tone. “It’s possible,” I admit. “If Isla could, she would’ve found a way to call me by now.”
The low growl of engines cuts off anything else I might say. Windows rattle in their frames. Tires crunch hard on gravel. My pulse spikes.
Two black SUVs slide to a stop. Doors pop open in quick succession; men spill out, rifles slung low at their sides, their dark jackets snapping in the wind.
Behind them, Cedar Hollow cruisers careen into the drive, lights strobing blue and red against the pines. Deputies pile out in tactical gear, radios crackling.
My stomach lurches, my head spins from the sudden flood of motion, but I push it down. Force the room into focus. I stride to the door and throw it open, mountain air rushing in, sharp with the tang of pine and gasoline.
Gabe is the first up the steps, broad-shouldered under his leather jacket, face grim. In his hand, crumpled and heartbreakingly familiar, is Isla’s orange Giants T-shirt.
For a moment, my vision blurs. My fingers close around it, clutching the worn cotton to my chest, and it takes every shred of willpower not to bury my face in it and breathe her in.
“Luke, I’m sorry,” Gabe says, voice low, rough with regret.
I swallow hard, pushing emotion down into my gut. “It’s not on you. She’s stubborn as hell. I should’ve known she’d come looking for me. I just pray we’re not too late.”
His jaw flexes. Then he nods toward the men behind him. “They’re here to help. Tell us where to start.”
I tuck the T-shirt into my waistband, like armor. “My watch—it’s still pinging?”
Gabe checks the handheld, the screen glowing pale in the dark. “Within a two-mile radius. That’s all I can narrow it down.”
I map the terrain in my head, every incline and logging trail etched into memory.
“Meet me below the hairpin turn on the east road. Two old trails split there. One vanishes into alder, the other hits a cliff face. If your men can’t handle switchbacks, don’t waste time.
We move fast. Tim’s bringing dogs; they’ll follow her scent if she left a trail. ”
Gabe scans his men. They all nod, rifles firm in their hands. “If you find Nathaniel, bring him in alive. We need answers.”
I sweep the room, every eye on me. “Lives are only taken if there’s no other choice.”
Savannah pulls Eden closer on the sofa, arms tight around her. I point to one of Gabe’s men, tall and broad-shouldered, jaw sharp as granite. “You. Guard this house. Don’t let anyone near them.”
The man nods once.
I shrug on my pack, straps biting into my shoulders, adrenaline humming through my blood. “Everyone else—move. Dalton, you drive lead.”
Focus.
Dalton grips the wheel, knuckles bone white as we descend the winding road. I sit rigid in the passenger seat, eyes locked on the blur of trees rushing past. Chase shifts restlessly in the back, his movements taut, his silence heavy.
I anchor myself in the rhythm of breathing, in the soft fabric of Isla’s shirt clenched in my hand. The cotton is worn smooth from countless washes, and the thought of her slipping it on, laughing in the kitchen, is almost enough to crack me open.
Dalton pulls onto the shoulder, blocking the narrow road. No one should be coming this way except us. I step out, boots crunching on gravel, and approach the handler from Cedar Hollow.
My grip tightens on the shirt, fingers flexing against the fabric like it’s the last tether I have to her. His eyes drop to my hand before finding mine.
“Does that have her scent?” he asks, voice level but urgent.
I nod, my throat too thick to form words, and press the shirt into his hands. A hollow ache blooms in my chest as it leaves my grip, as if giving it away steals a piece of her from me.
If we fail, this shirt, her scent, her laughter, the memory of her touch will be all that remains. The thought tries to hollow me out, but I clamp down, jaw tight. No. She’s alive.
I won’t lose her again. I’ll drag her back myself if I have to.
The dog snuffles, nose twitching as it locks onto something. Its ears shoot forward, body straining like a taut wire. The handler tucks the shirt into a bag and glances up.
“Dog’s got it.”
The search party fans into the trees, rifles slung, boots sinking into the dirt. Dogs tug on leashes, breath misting in the cold air. My pulse pounds as we move, slipping into formation. The forest folds around us, its silence heavy, every step crunching like a gunshot.
The leader halts suddenly, hand raised. Instantly, the line freezes. The world narrows to breath and heartbeat. My ears strain, waiting.
At first, there’s only the whisper of leaves and the stirrings of creatures waking. Then, faint and broken, almost swallowed by the wind, comes a sound—a whimper. My chest seizes. But my bones recognize it.
Isla.
The dog barks, sharp and urgent, the noise ricocheting off the trees like a flare. My eyes cut to Gabe’s, reading the same recognition there. We’re close.
We surge forward, crashing through underbrush, urgency shredding any hope of stealth. Dalton flanks my left with his shotgun, Chase to my right, gripping Nathaniel’s hunting rifle, and Gabe covering the rear.
The trees break open into a clearing—the air shifts—wide, unshielded, exposed. The dog lunges ahead, barking madly, a siren tearing the quiet apart.
And then I see them.
And the bottom drops out of my world.