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L ife never turned out as planned. If it did, Bellamy wouldn’t be single. He wouldn’t be living in Hawaii, and he’d still be a Marine Raider.

But of all those twists of fates, there was only one that needled his heart in such a way that it made him wonder what his life might have looked like if any of the roads he’d traveled had turned out differently.

Only that hadn’t been his choice, but hers.

His grandma, who passed away a year before Octavia disappeared, would be telling him that he was living a new dream.

Perhaps he was. The Brotherhood Protectors had given him an incredible opportunity when the military—most of the branches—had all but turned their collective backs on him and his buddies. Well, not really. Not in the truest sense of the word, but freaking Eric Moody had found a way to ensure that Bellamy and his team would not be selected for the Joint Forces K9 Pilot Program.

Moody was an asshole and had been a damn thorn in Bellamy’s side since he’d managed to get Octavia to fall for his charms. That had been one hell of a shocker.

“What on earth are you doing sitting over here by yourself with that damn sourpuss look on your ugly face?” Cooper asked, handing him a fresh beer before easing into one of the Adirondack chairs overlooking the marina.

Bellamy chose this house for a couple of reasons. First, he loved the water and being able to stare at it for hours upon hours made him ridiculously happy.

Second. He was far enough away from work that it let him trick his brain into leaving his job where it belonged.

Something he had always struggled to do.

Thirdly, he could sit on his porch, with his two dogs at his feet, and people-watch all evening long without having to interact with a single one.

That alone should be the icing on the cake.

Not to mention, the property was situated on a hill, and he had over three acres of land on which to work with his older dog, Roxy, and train his two-year-old, Tucker .

However, the real reason he’d bought the house was because it was the first place he looked at that he knew she would have loved. It had the kind of heart and soul Octavia would have wanted for a home and sometimes, late at night, he could almost feel her presence. As if her spirit wandered the halls, sprinkling her brand of sunshine on every drop of air.

It was how he dared to consider she could be gone.

The only negative was that his house became the team’s party place. Not that the boys were rowdy and out of control. Those days were long gone. But if they weren’t at Ohana’s having a good time listening to Moana belt out a few, they were at Bellamy’s kicking back. It didn’t bother him that his team bombarded his personal space. They knew him better than anyone and knew not to say a single word about how he’d finally chosen to hang a few pictures. The kinds of photographs that were constant reminders of the life he thought he was going to have with Octavia.

No, they left that beast tied up in the box where it belonged.

Today, he and the boys had chartered one of Driftwood Tours’ fishing boats, which was owned by Waylen and his wife, Presley. It had been a prosperous day at sea and currently, Rusty and Ethan hovered over the grill. Hopefully, they wouldn’t destroy the fresh catch or burn the veggies.

“I got an interesting voice message.” Bellamy saw no reason to lie to his buddy. He’d known these men for a long time and worked with them on some dangerous missions. They were as much family as Bellamy’s blood relatives.

But he and Cooper had known each other the longest. They had met when they’d been scrawny, pimple-faced teenagers at prep school. They bonded over their love of cafeteria pizza and their hatred for mean girls.

“From?”

Bellamy glanced over his shoulder. There wasn’t anything about his life that all three men didn’t know.

Including his past with Octavia, her father, and Eric.

This was not a story he wanted to repeat more than once.

“Let’s wait until we’re all sitting down together before I get into it.” Bellamy raised his beer and took a hearty swig. He understood that Claudius struggled to accept that his one and only daughter was dead.

Hell, so did Bellamy.

But even though Octavia went missing five years ago, Bellamy was still mortified over the fact she’d chosen Eric. What made that even worse was that it had been her father who had introduced them and Claudius seemed to prefer his daughter dating that asshole over a decorated Marine Raider and a man she’d known most of her life.

“Sounds like I might not like this.” Cooper cocked his head.

“No one will.” Bellamy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Looks like dinner’s ready.”

Tucker, who had been minding her own business at Bellamy’s feet, lifted her head and gave a little yelp the second he mentioned the word dinner .

He chuckled, patting the dog’s head. “Not you, girl. Go to the house and find your sister. Now.” He pointed to the porch.

Tucker sat with her head tilted, whining. She was still considered a puppy but she was a good K9 and one of the smartest dogs he’d ever worked with.

Bellamy lowered his chin.

Tucker barked and raced off.

“That’s one heck of a dog,” Cooper said. “How’s she getting along with the kitties?” He shook his head. “I can’t believe you now have three cats.”

“Tucker thinks the kittens are chew toys and Roxy still doesn’t know what to think of them, but we’re working on that.” Bellamy stood, giving his body a good stretch. He strolled to the side of the house where he’d set up the picnic table so he and his buddies could enjoy all the yachts in the marina as well as the sailboats with their tall masts pointing toward the darkening sky. “Smells amazing.” He nodded toward Rusty.

“It does, if I do say so myself.” Rusty smiled like a big kid. Bellamy had known Rusty for a little over ten years. They’d worked on a few joint missions both with K9 units and without. What always struck Bellamy about Rusty was his compassion. When he’d been nine, he’d been bit by a dog. Most kids would have blamed the dog and been terrified of animals. But not Rusty. Nope. He blamed the owner, and it was that incident that ignited his interest in dog training. They didn’t come any better than Rusty, even if he liked to pat himself on the back, which he did a fair amount.

But only when it came to the small stuff, like cooking a piece of fish.

The big stuff? Nope. Rusty didn’t take a single dose of credit. He was about as humble as anyone could be. If anyone gave him a compliment about a mission or tried to say he was a hero, he’d say something to the effect of, no, no, that wasn’t really me. I was there, but it was all so and so. I was just there to support.

Only, Rusty had saved Bellamy’s life more times than Bellamy could count.

However, Rusty—much like Bellamy—preferred animals to people. Their stories were different, but heartbreak changes a man and Rusty lost someone he’d loved in one of the most tragic ways.

“Bug off, Rusty. I did the heavy lifting.” Ethan set a large tray on the table. “All you did was add a little salt and pepper.” He waggled his finger. “I will give you kudos for bringing out the spray bottle of water because otherwise our fish might be more than a little charred around the edges.” Ethan was the kind of man who if anyone on this team needed help hiding a body, he’d show up with a shovel and wouldn’t bother asking any questions. He’d figure you had a good enough reason.

He was as loyal as any human could possibly be, but don’t ever betray that trust. It wasn’t that Ethan was a vengeful man. Or that he’d seek revenge. But he wasn’t one to hold back his thoughts and opinions. He had a razor-sharp tongue and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Bellamy smiled as he straddled the bench. He’d never tire of these men or nights like this. It no longer mattered the circumstances that brought them to this place; he wouldn’t trade working day in and day out with these three.

They were his people.

His brothers.

His family.

Leaving the Marines and joining the Brotherhood Protectors in Hawaii had been the best decision of Bellamy’s life.

He had only regret. He caught Rusty’s gaze and nodded as if he knew exactly what Bellamy had been thinking .

No one wanted to share the bond of loss.

But they did, and it sucked.

Bellamy lifted his fork and dug into the fresh fish, plopping it on his tongue. “Holy crap. This actually tastes really good.”

“As if I’d let you eat something that would be horrible.” Rusty pointed to Cooper. “But he would, which is why we didn’t let him near the grill.”

Cooper tossed a green bean across the table. “I can cook.”

“Not even the point.” Bellamy chuckled. “You’d make something taste gross and put it in front of me, just to see my reaction. You did it when we were kids and you’d do it again.”

“Only because I love you, man.” Cooper batted his lashes. “But seriously, this is almost as good as the catch of the day at Ohana’s. Almost.”

“Yeah, that chef is amazing. I’m shocked I haven’t gained twenty pounds eating there a few nights a week.” Ethan raised his glass. “To Team Koa: Charlie. If I had to, I’d die for you assholes, but let’s make sure that’s never on the menu.”

The entire table roared with laughter.

In the Marines, Bellamy worked with some great men. People he cherished and had strong bonds with. But there was something about the makeup of this team that started before Colombia that couldn’t be put into words. There was only one thing that came to mind when Bellamy thought of Rusty, Cooper, and Ethan.

Ride or die.

The dinner conversation was light and while Bellamy tried not to talk too much about work at home, discussing the K9s and their training wasn’t a heavy topic. Only, Cooper kept giving him the evil eye.

Time to tell them their past might be chomping at their heels.

Taking a cold beer from the cooler, he leaned against the side of the house and stared at the moon as it appeared in the night sky. “I got an interesting call while we were fishing,” he said. “Instead of paraphrasing it, I thought I’d let you hear it for yourselves.” He pulled out his cell, found the message in question, and tapped the green button.

“Hi, Bellamy. It’s been a little while and I don’t have time to shoot the shit. I heard through the grapevine you took a job in Hawaii with the Brotherhood Protectors. Amazing organization. I’ve worked with them in the past and that’s why I’m calling you. I’m in a situation. The kind where I might not come out alive on the other end. If that happens, I will want you and your team to figure out why. But you won’t like it because it’s going to mean returning to Colombia. If something happens to me, you’ll be sent an envelope with sensitive information. You’ll understand it when you get to Colombia. I gotta run. Bellamy, this is important. Trust me when I say I had to do it… ”

The line crackled. A few muffled shouts that couldn’t be made out echoed in the background.

Five gunshots filled the air.

Then it went dead.

“Was that Agent David Tate?” Rusty asked with his longneck halfway to his mouth and his eyes about as wide as they could possibly be. “And do you know if he was shooting at someone? Or was it the other way around?”

“I have no idea. I just listened to this less than two hours ago,” Bellamy said. “I called my parents and texted our boss right after I heard it.”

“What I want to know is why the hell Tate is calling you. He all but accused us of blowing his undercover operation,” Ethan said. “He told Eric and his damn committee that our dogs suck. Seriously, he honestly believes we’ll help him? The man has to be delusional.”

“We did blow his cover,” Rusty said. “Though not on purpose because we had no idea he was even there.”

“I bet Eric did.” Cooper stood and strolled across the lawn. He rubbed his shoulder and stared toward the water. “And Tate only stated that our dogs were ineffective. He tried like hell not to answer those questions, but even we had to be honest and that wasn’t much fun.”

“One of the worst days of my life.” Bellamy wouldn’t put anything past Eric, but Tate was a different story. Both of Bellamy’s parents were DEA. They both worked cyber-intelligence and spent their time behind a desk, not in the field. But they were high up inside the organization, knew all the players, and had even had dinner with two different presidents.

It’s how Bellamy ended up in a private prep school and met Octavia.

Cooper had attended on a scholarship and was about the only real friend Bellamy gained from that experience outside of Octavia.

“My parents didn’t even know until after all that shit went down,” Bellamy said. He wasn’t defending Eric, or even Agent Tate. He was just stating facts.

Ethan stuck his beer out. “Your folks play by the rules. I would gather even Octavia’s father might have done that until she went missing. But Eric? When has he ever done that? The boy was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. Went to flipping private schools and all.”

Bellamy sighed, catching Cooper’s gaze. He’d heard it all before, and while it wasn’t a false statement when it came to Eric, it was also the truth about him and in a roundabout way Cooper, but he wasn’t about to remind his friends of that sore subject.

Money—or lack of it—didn’t make the man.

“I always believed Claudius was a good man, even when things went sideways in Colombia. However, I worry his hands aren’t completely clean.” Bellamy raised his hand. “It has nothing to do with me and Octavia breaking up and everything to do with the way Claudius handled how messed up that mission was. Between something happening to the K9s, the town getting blown to bits, and the intel being all wrong, there are still reports of sightings of his daughter five years later, and he’s chased every single one, even though he held a memorial service for her. He told me that he tried to accept she was gone. That Eric and everyone else said it was unhealthy to keep holding out hope, but that he struggled to let her go.”

“For a long time you did as well,” Cooper said with a raised brow and that all-knowing look that reminded Bellamy he could fool only so many people.

Bellamy nodded. A thick lump formed in his throat. Octavia had a bleeding heart. It’s one of the things he loved about her. Helping communities in third world countries had always been a goal. She didn’t want to write a check; she wanted to go get her hands dirty.

And she did exactly that, although her rich daddy would have preferred she stay home.

So did Eric—even more than Claudius.

Eric thought what she did wasn’t important. Or was simply something to do to fill time until she got married and had children. As if serving him was more important.

“Tate looked into every single sighting of Octavia and found no evidence that it was her,” Bellamy said. “Eventually, I had to accept the facts.”

“I didn’t know that,” Ethan said. “So you’ve been talking with Tate behind our backs?”

Bellamy chuckled. “Not really. But my parents work for the same organization. They’ve had some contact, and my folks know that if by some miracle she’s alive, I’d want to know.”

“What did your parents have to say?” Rusty asked.

“My mom said they have no idea what Tate’s blabbing about, except he’s still doing a lot of undercover work in South America. However, they either couldn’t—or wouldn’t—give me the details, but he did recently have a meeting in Virginia,” Bellamy said. “They were concerned about why Tate would reach out to me instead of someone inside the DEA and obviously, the gunshots were a major concern. They said they’d get back to me later tonight or first thing in the morning.”

“The only connection any of us have to Tate is that damn mission that’s attached to Octavia.” Cooper turned and made his way back to the picnic table. “Claudius handpicked us.”

“Not entirely true,” Ethan said. “He picked the four of us because he’d worked with us before. Not to mention he’d known you and Bellamy since you were in middle school. But some of that team was assembled based on our recommendations. That’s part of why Eric came at us in that committee saying we didn’t know how to put together a decent K9 unit. That the men and their dogs weren’t good enough. Well-trained enough. That we picked subpar?—”

“You can stop talking. We get it,” Cooper said with a huff.

“It’s also not true,” Rusty added.

“I think we’ve got a bigger issue to deal with.” Ethan pointed to the main road. “Isn’t that Hawk’s car?”

“It sure is.” Bellamy set his beer on the table, squared his shoulders, and strolled to the driveway with his three buddies right behind him.

Hawk eased from behind the steering wheel, holding a manila envelope. “Sorry to bother you boys on your day off.” Hawk nodded. “This came as an encrypted file through Waylen’s office about the same time you forwarded us that message. He’s still trying to figure out where the hell it came from.” Hawk handed it to Bellamy. “He’s working with two of our other top cyber guys. Darius out of Colorado and Wyatt from our Yellowstone office.”

“What is it?” Bellamy fingered the edges. His pulse raced. The first few months in Hawaii had been all about getting settled, learning about the Brotherhood Protectors Organization, and working with the K9s. They’d each supported a few missions but nothing substantial. Nothing that got his blood pumping like the military had.

This felt different.

“First, I’m sorry to say that Agent David Tate is dead,” Hawk said.

Bellamy blew out a puff of air.

“Second, what’s in that envelope is a job relating to what happened to Tate. We’ve worked with him before, so this matters to us personally.” Hawk planted his hands on his hips. “Only, I don’t know exactly what the job is. There are quadrants. You are to go to that location. According to the message Tate sent, it says most of it will make sense when you get there. Also, according to a dead man, the only people you can take with you are these three goons and your dogs. That’s it. He said you have seventy-two hours to complete the mission and it’s imperative you don’t fail.”

“Crazy, out-of-the-blue question, but does this have anything to do with Octavia Reynolds?” Bellamy asked.

Hawk’s brow curved. “Interesting that you went right to a woman who is presumed dead. Why?”

“Don’t you find it interesting that Tate’s asking us to go back to where she disappeared, after he called me with some weird cryptic message?”

“I listened to it and yeah, it’s strange, but I wouldn’t jump to that conclusion,” Hawk said. “What came into Waylen’s office is basically a location in Colombia, a bunch of bullshit obscure words that don’t mean crap. All Tate said was that if this came over, it meant he was dead and an off-the-books mission was completely compromised. That something needed to be extracted and once you got there, you’d understand.”

“What are we supposed to extract?’ Bellamy glanced inside the envelope.

“We don’t know, exactly.” Hawk cocked his head. “All we know is that it will make sense when you get there.”

“And you’re taking the assignment?” Bellamy asked.

Hawk laughed. “I’m not. You are.” He slapped Bellamy on the shoulder. “Welcome to the Brotherhood Protectors K9 Pilot Program. Don’t fuck it up.”