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Seraphine gives me a rueful smirk, shaking her head.

“Guess, I’ll just be doing you a favor then, huh?”

Her snide retort is punctuated by wrenching the door shut, and I let her. Hanging my head with a softthumpon the cool metal surface,I listen to the soft purr of her Mercedes engine hum to life and then reverse down the driveway.

Fuck this.

A tremendous sigh heaves from my chest.

My relief lasts all of ten seconds.

God damn it, I’m tired of worrying about this fucking asshole of a woman.

And I refuse to spend yet another evening going to bed angry and worried sick while I wait for her to come home.

Storming over to my kitchen counter, I snatch my phone to open up the group chat between me, my SEAL Team, and some of our other military buddies. This group chat has been the highlight of my life for the last five fucking years. And thankfully, like me, a couple of them are home on post-deployment leave.

Anyone down to grab a beer?

In seconds, the chat lights up with shocked emojis and GIFs.

Riggs is the first one to respond.

With who? You? Or you and your warden?

I can’t help but huff a laugh.

Just me.

More shocked faces.

Beau pipes up.

I’m down, brother.

Twenty minutes later,I’m in my truck and pulling into Hogstown Brewery parking lot to meet Beau. Anxiety is a tight fist in my chest because something’s off. I mean it’s always been off, but… I feel like it’s taken me a long fucking time to wake up and finally acknowledge just how off.

Which is precisely when the familiar, garbage, house music ringtone of Seraphine’s phone fills the car.

My eyes dip to the front passenger’s seat floor where her phone’s screen is illuminated. The name of the caller reads Louisa.

Louisa?

Five fucking years, and I’ve never heard her talk about a girl named Louisa.

Alarms blare in my mind as intuition and anxiety battle for dominance in my gut. My eyes dance between the parking spot I’m pulling into and her phone. It stops ringing, but my heart is still pounding. My hand already has a tremor in it when I put my truck in park and pick her phone up off the floor.

I quickly call Beau, who answers after the first ring.

“Hey, Zaddy.”

“Where you at?”

“Just pullin’ up, you?”

“Second row, third spot.”

“Copy.”