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“What, exactly, did Owen say he wanted?” Rae asked.

“Introduction to a boat captain. I assume he’ll use my introduction to weasel his way into making that person work for him. He’s a master at finding weak spots.”

Clay tugged on his lip, expression thoughtful. “What if we give him exactly what he wants?”

“How?” I asked.

“I mentioned my contact in the DEA. He’d kill for a lead like this. Let me call him. If they don’t already have someone with boots on the ground in Friday Harbor, they can probably get someone in place quickly with a boat.”

“I take it back. I’ll marry you,” Lucy said matter-of-factly.

“What changed your mind?” Clay asked.

“Your devious side. It’s sexy.”

“Too bad. I’ve reconsidered.”

Lucy threw her hands up. “Typical man. Always changing their minds. If it weren’t for bad ideas, you’d have no ideas at all.”

“But this is a good one,” Rae protested, eyes lit. “If your DEA friend can’t get a boat here in time, they can pretend Sailor Swift is theirs. I’m happy to offer her up, if it gets this jerk off the streets and out of Anya’s hair.”

“Thank you all,” I said, unable to hide the tremble that made my voice shake. I leaned into Drew’s side. “I couldn’t ask for better friends.” I sniffed.

“You could, but they probably already have people. We’re okay,” Lucy said.

Clay stepped outside to make his phone call, returning a few minutes later. “We’re a go. They’ll have an agent here in the morning to meet with you, Anya.”

“Easy as that?” I asked, overwhelmed by their support.

Drew gripped my hand, squeezing tight. “You’re one of us now.”

My battle against letting the tears flow freely failed, liquid leaking from my eyes and snot dripping from my nose as I turned into Drew’s chest with a sob. I felt weak for crying, but the relief was overwhelming. The weight of my secret had been slowly growing, every half-truth about my life before Friday Harbor making me feel heavier with shame. Knowing I didn’t have to hide anymore left me feeling like I could float away.

Only Drew’s touch kept me tethered to the ground. His hands stroked my arms. He murmured comforting nonsense in my ear. No discernable words made it past my tears, but even his tone helped soothe me. His solid support was just another reason I was falling for him.

Even in my head, I couldn’t quite say “love.” Last time I’d thought I was in love, I’d learned that word could be a trap. Family love. Romantic love. Loving and trusting the wrong people had gotten me into this mess.

“I brought cookies home from the shop. Who wants dessert before dinner?” Vi announced brightly, giving me a moment to collect myself.

I swiped at my eyes, removing the offending moisture. I slowly brought my breathing back under control as Drew rubbed my back.

“Don’t worry, I’ll stop soon,” I promised, rubbing at another tear.

“You do what you need to, honey. No one’s judging.”

“I’m judging,” Lucy piped up. “But only because you’re missing out on Vi’s sea salt cookies. Wrap it up, Rose. You’ve got dessert to demolish.”

Her no-nonsense pep talk made me chuckle, and I borrowed Drew’s signature salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Vi handed me a cookie, eyes soft. “It’ll be okay, you know.”

My smile wavered around the corners. It wasn’t that I didn’t believe her. It was that I was so grateful for all I had. A few days ago, I’d thought my life in Friday Harbor was over. That I’d have to abandon all I’d built and flee, leaving my friends behind. It never occurred to me that they’d stand by me. Why would they? My own family hadn’t. But Violet, Lucy, and Rae had become the sisters I never had, bound to me by something deeper than blood. And while my feelings for Drew were anything butbrotherly, Zach, Clay, and Lee stepped in without hesitation, content to be the brothers I always needed.

Maybe the family I’d been born into hadn’t had my best interests at heart, but my chosen family did. I wasn’t an afterthought or an obligation. Not a pawn. I was theirs to love and protect. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t hiding. Wasn’t just surviving – I was home.

Chapter 25 – Drew

Sunday morning, Anya and I ambled down to the docks to meet up with Clay’s contact. The grizzled older man looked like the comic book version of a boat captain, complete with a pipe gripped in strong, yellowed teeth.