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“Go get him. I need to talk to the two of you together.”

Her heart started racing, and she threw the covers back. “What? What’s going on?”

“We tracked the guys who were at your house. They’re related to Falcon’s quest. You’re both in danger. They know where your cottage is. You guys need to get out fast.”

Crap. She ran into the living room. “Falcon!”

He wasn’t there.

Frowning, she checked the kitchen and the bathroom. “He’s—” She paused, not wanting to give Brody a reason to go all patriarchal on her. “He’s in the bathroom. Tell me what’s going on and I’ll relay it.”

“Call me when you’re on the road. Just get out fast.”

“Right. Will do.” Bella hung up and shoved the phone in her pocket. There was no way Falcon would be out of the house right now, not when he was in bodyguard mode.

But he wasn’t inside.

Fear tried to creep down her spine, but years of practice enabled her to shut it down and focus. She ran into the bedroom and got her gun, a penlight, her wallet, and her keys.

Survival mode had been ingrained in her since she was a little kid, and old habits flared back to life like she’d never had a break.

The familiar state of mind felt safe…and awful at the same time. She hated that she was so capable of stepping up when she was in danger. Well, not that. She hated that she was so used to being in danger that it wasn’t a second thought.

Her car was by the front door, but she headed to the bathroom, raised the window, and slipped outside, landing silently in the darkness.

If someone was waiting for her to come out the front door, they were going to have to wait.

She crouched in the shadows under the window, listening for the sound of an intruder, but all she could hear was the gentle crashing of the waves on the beach…beautiful, and also so useful for drowning out footsteps for the bad guys.

She pulled out her phone and texted Falcon. “Where are you?”

No reply.

Crap.

She inched around the side of the house, and she saw her car only a few yards away. It was in the light from the side of the cottage, and she could see there was no one around it. She could zip right over there and drive away to safety.

But where was Falcon?

He hadn’t left her. She was sure of it.

Which meant something had happened to him.

Sudden tension gripped her chest, and she had to fight harder to keep her focus. “No. He’s safe,” she whispered. “He’d want you to leave.”

But she couldn’t make herself just drive away. What if he was in trouble?

Then he’d want her to leave.

Except that no one got to tell her what to do anymore. Even Falcon.

Dammit.

She eased back against the side of the house and made her way around the other side, toward the beach, scanning the dusky moonlight rays for any sign of Falcon.

But nothing.

Just a silent, empty oceanside cottage.