Page 3

Chapter One

Raven’s Cliff, four months later…

“I told you we never should have let Kash pick up the food.”

Foster stopped painting as he glanced over at Chase, laughing at the furrow along Chase’s brow. His buddy paced in front of the window, pausing to stare up the long driveway before grunting then moving, again.

They’d been in Raven’s Cliff for six weeks, and it was obvious his best friend was starting to climb the walls.

Not that Foster was surprised. Kash and Zain had already broken ranks and joined Atticus Parker’s organization, Raven’s Watch.

And Foster knew Atticus had been equally pressuring Chase, trying to get the man to jump on board.

Not in a bad way, because Foster bet his ass that Atticus was all too familiar with the restlessness that accompanied retirement.

What had likely been the man’s main purpose for starting up the non-profit search and rescue unit.

But it was obvious Atticus wasn’t backing down until they’d all signed on.

Foster put down the roller and walked over to the cooler in the middle of the room.

Not that the kitchen wasn’t already fully functional.

In fact, his parents had done most of the heavy lifting.

But Foster and his buddies had done their best to limit tracking dirt and debris around the finished areas of the house. Which meant improvising.

He grabbed a couple beers and stood in Chase’s path until his buddy all but bumped into him, then held out the drink. “Someone’s hangry. See if this takes the edge off.”

Chase accepted the bottle, popped off the cap then tossed it into the trash. He took a long pull, exhaled a slow breath and shook his. “I’m not hangry.”

“Something’s bugging you because you’ve been antsy for the past couple days.”

“Of course, I’m antsy. I just chatted with Rhett’s doctor, and he doesn’t have any more answers than he did before we retired. All he keeps saying is that Rhett’s still in a coma and only time will tell if ever wakes up.”

“Which we knew from the start.” Foster held up his hands when Chase crossed his arms. “I’m not saying it isn’t cruel and unfair.

That I don’t want to run into the forest and just scream after visiting him and seeing what those bastards did.

But you’re generally better at boxing all this up, which suggests this is more than fate kicking us in the ass, again.

Or maybe, still.” Foster arched a brow. “Something else you need to share with me, brother?”

Chase stared at him then sighed, taking a few heavy steps away. “Actually, there is something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.”

Foster leaned against the wall. He had a feeling he knew exactly what Chase wanted to chat about, but he needed his best friend to say it, first.

“I’m listening.”

Chase pursed his lips, fisting one hand at his side. A clear sign Foster had nailed it, and his buddy was trying to find a way to break the news to him — confess he’d sided with the enemy. “It’s about…”

“Wow, what a storm.”

Kash barreled through the door, drowning Chase out as thunder crashed overhead, a flicker of lightning flashing in the distance.

Nyx trotted behind him with Zain bringing up the rear, carrying another case of beer.

They continued through, placing the boxes on the kitchen counter before turning and staring at Foster and Chase.

Foster chuckled. While he loved Kash like a brother, the man had a habit of being oblivious to social cues, rarely reading the room correctly.

Though, Foster had a feeling it stemmed from how in tune Kash was to his four-legged partner.

In fact, Foster had never met a handler that had the kind of rapport Kash did with Nyx — as if they read each other’s mind.

Kash frowned. “Why are you both staring at us like that?”

Chase shook his head. “Maybe because you’ve been gone so long, we thought we’d have to send search and rescue out to look for you.”

“Shut up. We weren’t that long. Besides, I doubt anyone’s flying in this.

It’s raining so hard, the guys in the marina are building an arc.

And the foghorn from the lighthouse is echoing all through town.

” Kash walked over and handed Chase a plate with a couple slices of pizza on it.

“I dare say even Foster might not fly in this crap.”

Foster grabbed slice, planting his butt on one of the kitchen stools. “Hate to break it to you, Kash, but we flew in weather far worse than this.”

“You just have to crush my little safety bubble, don’t ya? Though, that reminds me. Isn’t it about time for Atticus to make his weekly visit?”

“The guy’s a day late, actually. Which I hope means he’s finally given up on trying to entice us over to the dark side.” Foster pointed at Kash and Zain. “Especially when you both caved so quickly.”

“We didn’t cave, we simply realized what Keaton said was true. We’re not wired to stay on the sidelines, which is why Atticus won’t give up. He knows it’s only a matter of time before you finally say yes.”

“Cold day, buddy.” Foster tipped his beer at Chase, knowing this would force the man into owning up. “Here’s to solidarity, brother.”

Zain coughed, spitting some of his beer across the counter. “Shit. You didn’t tell him, yet?”

Chase groaned, giving Foster a cautious side eye. “What do you think, dumbass? I was waiting for the right moment. Which you two jerks interrupted when you barged in here, bringing all the rain with you. But thanks to you, now, I don’t have to.”

Foster placed his palm over his heart. “ Et tu, Brute ?”

“I told you I’d have to get back into the paramedic field eventually.” Chase thumbed at Zain. “Especially if Zain keeps helping out with the renovations. Who knew our master SAR specialist was such a shit handyman.”

Zain gave Chase a playful shove. “Hey, I’m not that bad.”

“You shot yourself with the nail gun.”

“It was only a flesh wound, and that thing was faulty.”

“I guess that drill was faulty, too. And let’s not forget about the Super Glue incident.” Chase grinned at Zain when his buddy flipped him off. “Which all boils down to me needing to stay current and search and rescue offers me the most robust opportunities.”

Foster held up his hand, cutting Chase off. “Don’t even bother giving me the speech. I’ve heard it twice before.” He shook his head. “It’s like rats leaving a sinking ship.”

“Which is your cue to jump back on the horse.” Kash shuffled in beside him. “While I know Atticus is happy we’re all on board, it’s you he really needs. Who he really wants.”

Foster waved it off. “There are plenty of pilots who could do the job.”

“But none he trusts. And after everything that went down with his son last year…”

Foster scrubbed a hand down his face, warring between wanting to smack Kash up the side of his head and knowing his buddy was merely trying to emphasize the old man’s position.

But the last thing Foster needed was more guilt.

He already had a lifetime’s worth of it weighing him down, so heavy it threatened to crush him into the ground some days.

But Kash had a point. Foster was all too aware of what Atticus had been through.

How his son, Josh, had been killed when a rescue mission had turned into a shootout with Josh’s own crew gunning him down.

Daniel Shaw and Brad Newport. Two former military men and guys who should have been rock solid.

The authorities suspected Josh was on the wrong side of a drug smuggling deal and got caught in the crossfire.

And the eerie similarities between that incident and Foster’s last mission hadn’t been lost on him.

Kash muttered something under his breath, giving Foster’s arm a pat. “Hey, I didn’t mean?—”

“It’s fine. And you’re right. I understand how hard it must be for Atticus to trust someone he can’t personally vouch for. Though, I thought you said he’d just hired a new pilot?”

“I think they arrived last night. He was pretty hush hush about it. But that’ll only cover half the shifts.”

“Half? What about that Henry guy you’ve been working with?”

“Bastard quit. Got offered some cushy job for a private air ambulance firm down south. Which leaves this new guy to cover it all.”

Foster nodded, knowing there wasn’t really anything else to do or say.

It wasn’t that he didn’t miss flying. He’d gotten his pilot’s license at sixteen and had never looked back.

With his dad having served as an Army Ranger for twenty years, opting for the Air Force had always been Foster’s end goal.

And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t experienced his share of loss during his career. But losing Sean that way…

It had changed him in ways he couldn’t describe.

Knowing it was his fault. That if he’d reacted quicker — all but barrel rolled that chopper before he’d gotten clipped twice in the shoulder — his team might have subdued Stein and Adams before anyone had gotten hurt.

Before Sean had sacrificed himself to shield Foster because his friend firmly believed Foster was the only one who’d had the skills to get the rest of the team out alive.

Who could fly them through the storm while countering the attack chopper that had appeared out of nowhere.

What Foster believed was part of Stein’s agenda. The last piece in his and Adams’ escape plan and what had been their signal that it was time to launch their attack.

It didn’t matter if Foster hadn’t agreed. Sean had taken the choice out of Foster’s hands and now…

Now he was left battling a ghost.

Kash gave him another pat, looking as if he was going to apologize — or worse, sympathize — when a horn cut through the thunder and rain, the loud noise shaking the glass in the old wooden windows.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel path before the door crashed open, Atticus Parker’s formidable silhouette filling the doorway.