Page 154 of Fire Fight

“But he’s still gone.”

“No sign of him, Finny,” Lane confirmed, the pain and fear in his voice penetrating my own haze.

“West and I are on our way.”

“I’m pulling security footage from here and heading to Trey’s. He’s already there, so that’s where I need you.”

“Done,” Finn said. “See you soon.”

“Bring Aspen.”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want her out of our sight. Hell, bring Mom and Aria too.”

“Absolutely not,” Birdie said, her tone waterlogged with unshed tears. “Send some ranch hands up here to keep an eye out, but I’m not dragging your sister into this. We’re as safe as can be here. This sicko isn’t after us.”

“Fine,” Lane conceded. “Only Aspen then.”

“Wouldn’t I be safe here?” I argued.

“I need your help with this,” the sheriff said, shocking the hell out of all of us.

We’d come so far since I first arrived in town, from Lane trying to drive me away to him folding me into the investigation. I had no idea what would happen with me and Crew in the future—the possibility that he wouldn’t return safely wasn’t one I would ever entertain—but somehow, I knew these people had made me part of their family. The type of family I’d so desperately craved, where every success and failure wasn’t measured against the accomplishments of a dead sister. Where I could live my life freely without someone hovering over my shoulder, attempting to dictate every move I made.

I loved these people, almost as much as I loved Crew.

We mobilized quickly after that, Finn and West both seemingly having plans in place for if they needed to be away from the ranch for any length of time. A couple phone calls had everything in motion. Several ranch hands came up to the house to hang out with Birdie, who immediately disappeared into the kitchen, saying cooking would soothe her, and Aria had yet to reappear.

Finn, West, and I piled into Finn’s dusty black ranch truck and headed toward Trey’s. I tried to distract myself on the drive there by taking in the scenery. This was a side of the ranch I’d never seen before, and it never ceased to amaze me exactly how much land the Lawless family owned. We were in mid-summer now, and everything was so lush and green, with pops of colors from the wildflowers that sprouted up all over the place. The distant craggy mountaintops were capped in white.

“This place is beautiful,” I said to the twins.

West turned to me and grinned. “Now you know why we all came back.”

“Except Owen.”

“Yeah, well…our biggest brother was always destined for more than this small town could provide. And after spending years providing for us, he deserved to carve out his own slice of happy. His wife is great, and so is her family. I doubt he misses us much.”

Finn scoffed. “Speak for yourself. Iknowhe misses me.”

“Maybe in your dreams,” West shot back, shoving his twin’s shoulder lightly.

I loved that they could joke and tease despite the high emotions obviously coursing through each of us. Somehow, it put me more at ease, like the situation wasn’t yet so dire that they became stoic and tense.

Fifteen minutes later, we pulled up to what could only be described as a compound. A wood and metal gate blocked the roadway, disappearing on either side into the trees. I had to assume it fenced in a sizable chunk of Trey’s property. After Finn sent Trey a text, it slid sideways to admit us.

Trey’s house was as gorgeous as Crew’s and the ranch, but vastly different in style. It looked like three wooden large rectangles stacked, one staggered on top of another, the walls long expanses of glass, likely the kind where outsiders couldn’t see in, but anyone inside could see out. Finn parked on the concrete pad in front of the garage door, which opened as we got out. The twins proceeded inside, me trailing along, turning my head to watch as we were closed inside. A door on the back wall stood open, and I followed Finn and West through it.

I didn’t have time to appreciate the interior architecture of Trey’s home as the twins disappeared through another doorway. I paused in the threshold, taking it all in.

The brothers joked about Trey’s “little” private security firm, but there was nothing small about the operation taking up the room. Innumerable monitors blanketed one wall, servers beeped and blinked, and in the center of it all sat Trey, rapidly typing away at a keyboard.

Lane stood off to one side and, to my surprise, Wyatt Saunders hovered on a stool in the corner, her shoulders curved inward, hair hanging limply around her face.

“What the fuck is going on?” I blurted.

Neither Trey nor Wyatt moved, but Lane pushed off the walland ushered me and the twins back out of the room, closing the door behind him. He led us down a short hall into Trey’s kitchen. Finn and West made themselves comfortable at two of the six stools that bellied up to the massive white granite island, so I followed their lead and sat down.