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Dawson raced home and screeched to a halt in front of Gramps’ house. His sedan was still jackknifed half in and half out of the driveway when he killed the engine and rushed me up the stairs to the porch like we were taking fire. If I hadn’t already known he was spooked, I sure as hell would have then.

“I’m not sure that’s an actual parking spot,” I said as I unlocked the door.

“It is now,” was his only response. Once the deadbolt turned over, he opened the door and all but pushed me inside before following and locking it behind us.

Avoiding the slightly crazed look in his eyes, I asked the obvious question. “So, what’s the plan?”

“I need to speak to Wilson to see what he thinks.” He sent a quick text, then stared at his phone, awaiting a response. I hovered nearby, looking over his shoulder.

Within minutes, Special Agent in Charge Wilson was looking back at us, along with Striker, that asshole Jamieson, and a couple of other agents in the background, seated at a conference table.

“I’m going to jump right into this,” Agent Wilson said, wasting no time.

“We appreciate that, sir,” Dawson answered for both of us. Though he tried his best to hide it, I could hear the strain in his voice. And even through a video call, I could see the parental-level worry in Striker’s deep brown eyes. He reminded me so much of my father in that moment, I had to focus on Wilson instead.

“Here’s what we know so far: early this morning, Jimmy Barratta’s body was found suspended from the light fixture in his cell. The officer who discovered the body reported it to his superiors, and they called us. Agent Dean Franklin of the New Jersey bureau went to investigate the circumstances of his demise. He’s reviewed every video feed, and there was no sign of foul play—”

“There’s no way Barratta hung himself,” Dawson said, cutting his boss off. “Even Agent Franklin believes otherwise.”

Wilson cut him a sharp look that would have silenced me in a heartbeat. “I said there was no sign of foul play, Agent Dawson, not that there wasn’t any. There was an interruption in the prison’s surveillance system, creating a universal glitch in all feeds that lasted exactly eight minutes.”

“And that’s when it happened,” I said before realizing I’d spoken aloud.

Just like the missing footage when my father was attacked at Logan Hill.

“Precisely. When the feeds returned, Barratta was hanging by his neck in his cell.”

“Whoever got to him had to have worked there,” Dawson added.

“And we are looking into that,” Wilson replied, “but without video or physical evidence, it’s going to take more time. This was no small feat. Whoever did this had not only access to the prisoner, but knowledge of how to shut down the system long enough to pull off the murder.”

“That should narrow down the list somewhat,” Striker pointed out.

“Correct. Make no mistake, this is now a top priority for both the Ohio and New Jersey branches of the FBI.”

“How is it possible for one man to have this long a reach?” Dawson asked. “How does someone with ties to Ohio have a network of people to leverage on the east coast? It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, we know Manny Marazano had ties to Columbus,” I said, casting a wary glance at Striker, “and he knew who the AD is, so maybe that’s it. Maybe that’s all the link he needs.”

“We can sort out the hows and whys later,” Wilson replied. “For now, we need to take this crime seriously and move forward with caution, which leads me to my next point.” He pinned me in place with his focused stare. “I think the message being sent here is pretty clear: anyone who poses a threat is being dealt with, and I’m afraid that, given your connection to this AD, that may mean you too, Kylene.”

“But I’m not a threat. I sure as hell don’t have any idea who the AD is. Manny died before he told me. And I don’t know anything about the mob—”

“Be that as it may, I think we need to proceed under the assumption that he either doesn’t know that or doesn’t care. You’ve nearly lost your life twice now because of him—”

“Four times, actually—”

The scowl the man in charge flashed my way silenced me in a second. “My point exactly. We have no clue when he might strike, and your father would never forgive me if I didn't do all I could to keep that from happening, which is why I want Agent Dawson to stay in Jasperville until this matter is resolved.” He turned his attention to the rookie at my side. “And I want you to watch your back as well. Who knows if you’ve made yourself a target in all this or not.”

“But how is that even going to work?” I asked, my mind reeling with logistics that promised to be an absolute nightmare any way I spun it. “I still have school, and he is NOT coming with me again. That was a disaster last time—”

“He is,” Agent Wilson argued, “just under different pretenses.”

“Surely the AD wouldn’t come for me there.” No sooner had those words left my mouth than I realized just how naive they were, and Wilson’s incredulous expression only cemented that fact further. The AD would absolutely attack me at JHS, or anywhere else that suited his purpose, if that was indeed still his end game.

“Kylene, need I remind you that this individual just coordinated a highly tactical assassination on the last of the high-ranking remaining Vollero mobsters in custody, and it was done while he was under supervision in a federal prison? It’s clear that this individual would not only be able to, but also have no qualms about taking you out while at school.”

What a sobering thought that was. “Is it even safe for me to return there, then?”

The responsibility weighed heavily as he ruminated on that, his lips pressed to a thin line. “I believe it is for now, but if anything new comes to light that suggests otherwise, we’ll need to pull you and make other arrangements.”

I watched my on-time graduation slip further through my fingers.

Sensing my distress, Dawson leaned in close to whisper in my ear. “We’ll figure it out, Danners. I promise.”

I wanted to believe that, but with so many thoughts racing through my mind, I just couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

“There are other options we can explore if it comes to it, like housing you somewhere else to protect you—”

“Wait— housing me?” I blurted out, interrupting the man in charge again. “You mean put me in a safe house somewhere?”

“Precisely.”

“But…what about Gramps? I can’t leave him alone. He’d never go for that!”

“You are legally an adult now, are you not? You don’t need his permission.”

“It’s not about permission,” I countered with way more heat in my tone than it seemed the agent in charge was used to, given his taut features. “Gramps is my world—”

“Which is all the more reason for you to distance yourself from him if the situation warrants.”

I shook my head. “You don’t get it. I’m all he has, and there’s not a bone in that old coot’s body that is going to let me quietly disappear into custody in the hope that you can keep me safe. It’ll be over his dead body.”

“And it might be just that if you stay with him.” His stern tone and harsh sentiment was a slap to the face, but it changed nothing. He didn’t know Gramps like I did. There was no way he’d accept these terms.

“If it’s all the same to you, Agent Wilson, I’d feel better staying here for now. Gramps will gladly let Agent Dawson stay, too.” Did I know that for a fact? Of course not—in fact, Gramps would probably lose his shit when he found out, but confidence won arguments, so I threw that statement out there like it was an absolute certainty and left the reality of the situation to be dealt with later.

When Wilson wasn’t there to see the fallout.

“I don’t have any objections at this time. Agent Dawson?”

“None, sir.”

“All right, then. You have your orders. I’ll be in touch soon.”

The agents on the screen disappeared, leaving Dawson and me standing side by side in my foyer. Silence plagued the house for what seemed like an eternity before the man himself finally broke it. “Well, this is a fucking mess.”

I choked on a laugh that bordered so hard on maniacal I was afraid Dawson might hunt down Dr. Chin to consider bumping up that trip to the psychiatrist for other reasons—like a breakdown. “Sorry,” I said, waving off any incoming concerns about my mental status, “just another of my inappropriate coping skills. Don’t worry. I swear I’m working on them.” When Dawson didn’t laugh or reply, my dark amusement shriveled up, leaving the reality of the situation staring me in the face. “Do you really think he’ll come for me?”

“There’s no way to know. That’s why we’re taking precautions.”

“Are there enough precautions to keep him from succeeding if he wants to?” My blunt question was met with silence from my partner. “So, what’s the play? Just hide in Gramps’ house and wait him out? Hope that he forgets about everything?”

“We’re going to find him, Danners—”

“But how?” I asked, cutting Dawson off at the knees. “We have no leads, no clues, and potentially even bigger targets on our backs than we did before. Striker can’t tell us shit because it would put his family in danger, and my father isn’t going to either because they threatened him too. He’s literally going to rot in prison because he’s afraid for me, but I’m in danger now regardless of his arrangement, so how does that work? Not telling me or the feds anything is endangering me just as much. And we can’t just wait him out. The AD’s had some of his minions under his thumb for years and he never forgot about them. Look at Sheriff Higgins…his wife died years ago. Garrett and I were just kids when the AD paid off his debt so he could own him. I don’t believe for a second he’s going to forget about me. If anything, he’ll just wait until my life is nice and stable and happy, and then he’ll swoop in to torture me before taking me out—but only after he ruins everything I care about.”

“Danners—”

“You know I’m right about this. Laying low isn’t a luxury I get to have—and silence isn’t one my father gets, either.” I snatched the keys out of his hand and headed for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Logan Hill,” I snapped back, my frustration with the situation and anger at feeling like a hostage in my own life, both literally and figuratively, boiling over in rare form.

“You can’t just run off half-cocked this time,” he argued as he jumped in front of me.

“Oh, I’m fully cocked this time, Dawson. Believe me.”

I tried to maneuver around him, but he stood his ground, blocking the exit. “That’s not going to help you at the moment.”

“Really? Because it feels like it already is. I haven’t felt more like myself in weeks.” I tried to shove him aside, but he caught my wrists in his hands and held them tightly.

“I need you to stop and think this through. I know you’re pissed, and I share that sentiment, but barging in there angry isn’t going to accomplish anything. You don’t have any more leverage now than you did the last time you tried to get him to tell you what happened that night. You need to be smart about this. Go to him when you have something to work with.”

“And you don’t think two dead mobsters with details about the AD is enough?”

He looked at me with sympathetic eyes. “Was Manny?” Ouch . His grip on me lightened, and he pulled his keys from my hand. “You want to go to Logan Hill? Fine, we’ll go, but we go together , understand? From now on, that’s how this works. Where you go, I go. No exceptions.” He pinned me in place with those narrowed hazel eyes long enough for my blood to cool a little—and for reason to set in. As though he’d seen that shift in my gaze, he released me. “Can you handle that?”

“Not that I really have a choice, but yeah, I can handle that.”

“Good. The last time we weren’t on the same page about where you and I stood, it didn’t end so well. I won’t be making that mistake again.” He turned to walk away, shoulders squared and tense from the memory of the showdown we’d had before the pageant undoubtedly playing over in his mind.

“But you don’t make mistakes, Dawson,” I called out after him in a weak attempt to lighten the mood. When he looked back at me, all I saw was conviction burning in the depths of those hazel eyes.

“Not where you’re concerned,” he said, his voice like steel. “Not anymore.”

He tossed his keys onto the kitchen table before taking a seat as I looked on, wondering how in the hell this was going to work. But what I did know was that the unshakable force known as Agent Cedric Dawson wouldn’t be leaving my side from now on.

And how I felt about that was the most unnerving part of all.