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“This is personal too.” The words came out harder than I intended. “Every dead kid is personal when it’s your town.”

We sat with that for a moment. Outside, the October wind rattled the tavern’s windows, reminding us that winter was coming. More darkness, more cold. More places for dealers to hide.

“We’ll coordinate tomorrow,” Hunter said finally. “Set up a surveillance schedule, pool our intel.”

“Good.” I stood, suddenly exhausted. “I should get home.”

“To your ready-made family.” Beckett’s attempt at lightness fell flat. “Hell of a week for you, Lach.”

“Yeah.” I pulled on my jacket. “Hell of a week.”

The cold air hit me as I stepped outside, sharp and clean after the tavern’s warmth. Somewhere in this town, dealers were peddling death to kids. Somewhere else, weapons were being stockpiled for God knew what purpose.

And in my house, a woman and child waited. One I didn’t trust; one I’d die to protect.

Hunter was right. It was a shit situation.

But it was mine to handle.

Chapter 11

Piper

Over the next week,my life became a routine, even as it felt like living on borrowed time.

I couldn’t let Lachlan know what was really going on.

I tried to act as normal as possible, plus make myself as useful as I could so that Lachlan wouldn’t have reason to get rid of us. Not that he was going to put his son or the mother of his child out on the street. He was too honorable for anything like that. But I needed to be here, in this house, for as long as I possibly could.

For long enough to find my way out of an impossible situation.

I should’ve been thrilled with a week of blessed normalcy. Plenty of food and a roof over my head and someone to help with Caleb when I need a break… And I was thankful for those things. Thankful that Lachlan had insisted I take Caleb in for a well-baby doctor visit and get him caught up on his immunizations.Provide reassurance that Caleb was thriving and healthy and had everything he needed.

Then pretend like that knowledge didn’t make me want to sob and rage against the world. Because that wouldn’t make any sense at all. So I’d pasted a smile on my face and told Lachlan I was thrilled.

I’d been trying for days to find a way to ask Lachlan about his work without seeming suspicious. Casual questions that died on my lips because they sounded forced even to me. How could I explain my sudden interest in law enforcement?

But I needed information. And I needed it as fast as possible.

The weight of what I had to do pressed down on me constantly. Every time Lachlan smiled at Caleb, every time he touched my shoulder in passing, every time he looked at me like I might actually be worth saving—it felt like another layer of guilt settling over my shoulders. He was being so kind, so patient, so generous with his home and his heart. And I was going to repay that kindness by betraying him.

But I didn’t have a choice. I’d learned long ago that choice was a luxury people like me couldn’t afford. And that was doubly true now.

So, I’d done what I could. I’d learned Lachlan’s schedule by heart. Which coffee mug he preferred—the blue one with the chip on the handle that he’d gotten from some police conference years ago. How he liked his eggs scrambled loose, not firm, with just a pinch of salt. The way he always checked the locks twice before bed, a habit that spoke of someone who took protecting what mattered to him seriously. The way he paused outside Caleb’s makeshift nursery every night, just listening to our son breathe.

I’d made Lachlan dinner each night and kept the house tidy—neither things I minded doing, but hated that I was doing them to try to get him more comfortable with me.

So I could betray him.

I placed the heel of my hand against my chest, trying to ease the ache there. Trying to stop my heart from continuing to shatter. It didn’t help.

The burner phone buzzed against my hip as I finished folding laundry, and my blood turned to ice. I’d been dreading this moment all week, knowing it was coming and there was nothing I could do about it. Even more, that it would just get worse from this moment on.

I’d dreaded it but also longed for it all week, knowing it was my only chance. My onlychoice.

I glanced around Lachlan’s living room, turning so my back was to the small camera tucked behind the plant on the bookshelf. He thought I hadn’t noticed the cameras, but I’d spotted all three the second day I was here. The one in the kitchen between the cookbooks, nestled so carefully it looked like part of the decor. The one in the hallway near the stairs, angled to catch anyone coming or going. I understood why he’d installed them—he didn’t trust me not to run again, and after what I’d done to him before, I couldn’t blame him.

I looked at the phone. A message from Ray, my father. Not that it would be anyone else. He was the only one with this number.