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“Wait…” I said. “I remember you.”

“Evenin’, Hattie,” he said. “It’s been a few years.”

A glimmer of recognition flashed like a minnow in a shadowy corner of my mind. I latched onto it.

“Gatling,” I replied in disbelief.

He’d been about my age when Neil and I got married—a quiet, solemn man from West Virginia with a cold stare that could turn anyone to stone. He always seemed to linger at the fringes of the Blackjacks, as if he didn’t quite fit among them. Or anyone, for that matter.

While his brothers took up space, loud and proud, cracking jokes, pestering each other, Gatling would slip outside and remove himself from it all. I never really got to know him, and it didn’t help that he barely spoke two words together.

Neil had informed me that Gatling was fresh out of the military when he joined the Blackjacks, with numerous medals of honor to his name that he never wanted to talk about.

And he wasn’t Vlad. Which meant my suspicions had been right. There was more than one biker keeping an eye on me.

“Would someone please explain why there is a wrestling match on my goddamn kitchen floor?” Nathan demanded, exasperated and harried.

I went to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder for comfort.

“It’s okay, Nathan. He’s with Neil.”

“Neil, as in…your ex? The biker?” he replied, with an undeniable edge of stress in his tone. “No offense, Hattie, but that’s not reassuring.”

Emma let out another scream. I winced. This is exactly the kind of problem I did not want to dump on my sister’s family.

“I’ll get this guy out of your hair,” Gatling said, yanking the intruder to his feet. “Call the cops. Let them know about the break-in.”

He disappeared into the night as silently as a ghost, taking the intruder with him.

Nathan let out a tired breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. I moved to the door, pushing it closed. The lock had clearly been jimmied open, completely destroyed in the process. I made a mental note to get it fixed tomorrow before Nathan or Connie noticed.

“Papa?” Wylie mumbled sleepily as he wandered into view, his hair sticking up in every direction like a hedgehog. “What’s all the noise?”

My throat tightened as Nathan scooped Wylie into his arms.

“Nothing, kiddo. Sorry for waking you up. It’s taken care of now, okay?”

Wylie yawned and snuggled into Nathan's neck.

They were better off without me here,I thought.

As long as I’d remained in Seattle, these thieves didn’t bother with me. But now that I was back in Brightwater, close to the scene of the crime, they were targeting my family.

Nathan glanced at me, rubbing Wylie’s back. I suddenly realized I was still holding Connie’s cast iron skillet, and it felt like it weighed a ton. I heaved it onto the stove with athunk.

“I’ll deal with the police,” I said. “Go check on Connie and Emma.”

It was the least I could do—cleaning up the mess after putting my sister’s family through all this.

After Nathan left the room, I grabbed the phone from the counter and sank into a chair at the kitchen table. My fingers trembled as the high of adrenaline wore off. I should have known this would happen. I should have been more careful.

When I reported the break-in, the police said they would send an officer to take a look, document the damage, and post an officer on watch.

My ex-husband has that part covered already,I thought.

But I kept my mouth shut. The cops would want to know why a crew of bikers were watching my sister’s house. I wouldn’t bring heat down on Neil’s head like that.

I’m strong enough to handle the hot seat, honey,he would have told me.