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Chapter Three

Foster sat in Chase’s truck as they drove through town then took the long winding road out to the property. His buddy hadn’t said a word since Foster had jumped into the passenger side as if tangos were hot on his ass, mumbling a harsh, “Go,” as he’d closed the door and leaned back in the seat.

Chase had glanced at the hanger then hit the gas, occasionally looking in the rearview as if he expected a black SUV to jump out behind them, machine guns firing. An obvious threat to explain Foster’s odd behavior.

Mackenzie Parker.

He hadn’t seen that coming. Not when Atticus had mentioned — repeatedly — how she’d joined the Coast Guard. That she’d serve until the organization either forced her to retire or she died in the process. Though, after what had happened to Josh, it all made sense.

Which only added to the guilt slowly suffocating the cab.

How she’d likely given up her career because her dad needed someone he trusted.

That Atticus’ own sanity was hanging by a thread.

Foster hadn’t really looked at it from that perspective before — hadn’t considered why Atticus kept pushing for him to join.

They aren’t you…

That’s what she’d said. Twice. Which explained the harsh tone, the scathing way she’d glanced at him. Her father had put Foster on some kind of impossible pedestal and he’d more than fallen off it tonight.

He’d crushed it. Broken it into dust, which had blown away with the wind and the rain.

He wasn’t sure if she thought her dad would have insisted she remained in the Coast Guard if Foster had signed up. Or if she’d gotten a less than warm welcome home. Either way, his name was at the top of her shit list. And she hadn’t held back.

Chase sighed beside him, finally taking a moment to look him in the eyes. “That bad, huh?”

Foster chuckled. “That’s what I love about you, buddy. No small talk or brotherly encouragement. You just jump right in with both feet. Straight to the heart of the issue.”

“First of all, you hate small talk. Second, you’d deck me if I tried to coddle you. And third, we both know it must have been pretty fucking awful for you to jump into the truck and just yell at me to go.” Chase pointed a finger at Foster. “And yeah. You yelled.”

Foster scrubbed a hand down his face, wishing he’d taken Zain’s offer and hopped into the man’s Chevy. Instead, he was left scrambling for some form of damage control. “Fine. It sucked. You happy?”

“Do I look happy?”

Foster eyed his best friend. “You look like crap.”

“Thanks for noticing. Nothing like stabbing a guy in the chest to relieve a tension pneumothorax while stuck in a van, teetering on a crumbling cliff, to get me back in the game. Talk about being baptized by fire.”

“You didn’t even blink.”

“Are you high? My damn hands were shaking.” He pinned Foster with an intense gaze. “My hands never shake.”

“Of course, they were shaking. You were halfway frozen. We all were. And you saved his life. That’s the takeaway here.” Foster inhaled, cringing a bit as he turned to face Chase. “You did save his life, right?”

“You’d be feeling pretty damn bad if I hadn’t. And yeah, I did, but the point is… You’re not the only one trying to find their way here. We’re all struggling.”

Foster huffed. “Zain and Kash are not struggling.”

“They were. They just found their rhythm quicker than most.” Chase checked his mirrors then turned onto the pitted dirt road. “Besides, they don’t remember that night the way we do. A blessing I guess.”

“Nothing about that night was a blessing. And I have a feeling they recall far more than they’ve let on.” Foster sighed. “Probably because they’re afraid I’ll go off the deep end or something.”

“Are they wrong?”

He glanced out the side window, watching the trees bend as the wind howled beyond the glass. “I made it back without killing anyone, didn’t I?”

“Did you? Because I was somewhat worried you’d cracked and left a bunch of carnage behind when you’d told me to go . Like you’d robbed a bank or something.”

Foster laughed. “Nope. Just trying to save a hint of my pride. Do you know who this new pilot is?”

Chance frowned, shoving his truck into park after he pulled into his spot off to the left of the main building. “No idea. Kash wasn’t lying. Atticus hasn’t said shit about it.”

“That’s because it’s Mackenzie.”

Chase stared at him, obviously waiting for him to continue before he shook his head. “And that’s supposed to mean something to me?”

“Mackenzie. As in his daughter. Ex-Coast Guard, and the woman who likely has a hit out on me.”

Chase’s jaw dropped open before he burst out laughing, wiping at imaginary tears a few moments later. “Let me get this straight. Your first time even sitting in a chopper in five months, and you lose your cool in front of Atticus Parker’s daughter. Oh man, that’s rich. Wait until I tell the guys.”

“This isn’t funny, jackass. I practically hyperventilated in there. But what’s worse, she knew exactly who I was. Apparently good old Atticus has been singing my praises only it’s this version of me that showed up and she’s struggling to see even a hint of the man her father painted me to be.”

“Was it the hair?” Chase grinned. “It’s usually the hair.”

He groaned as he shook his head, letting it fall back against the seat. “What’s that saying? You can never go home?”

Chase schooled his features, pushing out a long slow breath before he punched Foster in the arm. “Well, I’ll be damned. You like her.”

Foster jerked his head around, torn between wanting to smack Chase and wondering if he’d suffered some kind of head injury during the rescue. “Where the hell did that come from?”

“Please. You’re never this worked up unless there’s a whole lot of emotion involved.”

“Yeah, the angry kind mixed with a healthy dose of self-loathing. Maybe a splash of embarrassment.”

Chase merely raised a brow. “How long have we been friends?”

“Is that what this is? Because I’m feeling very attacked right now.”

“Twenty years. And when have I ever been wrong about something?”

“Will a numerical list do, or…”

“You’re not crazy, and you’re not broken.

” Chase rolled his eyes when Foster stared at him.

“Okay, maybe a little broken. But not beyond fixing. Whether that involves you getting back behind a set of controls or moving on to something new, this is all part of the process. And if Mackenzie is anything like her old man, she’s just frustrated that her life has taken a turn, too.

I’m sure she’s still dealing with losing her brother. Changing careers.”

Chase slapped Foster’s arm. “Though, I would have paid good money to be a fly on the wall in that chopper. How are her hands?”

Foster laughed. “Only you would ask that instead of if she was smart or pretty.”

“And?”

“She’s got some mad skills.”

“I bet she does. And is she smart and pretty?”

“More sarcastic with a side of blood lust.”

“Sounds like the woman of your dreams, buddy.”

“Not a chance. Now are we going in or just staying out here because Kash is staring out the window like some anxious mother hen waiting for her chicks to come back to roost, and I’m betting Zain has eaten all of the good stuff.”

“Definitely going inside. Just wait until I tell them you’ve got the hots for the boss’ daughter.”

“Chase, I swear…”

But the man was already out and hoofing it to the door. Kash met him in the foyer, bending over laughing when Chase said something as he pointed at Foster. The two men stopped, met Foster’s glare then started up again, disappearing into the main house as lightning danced across the sky.

Foster opened the door and stepped out, darting over to the house as the rain got impossibly harder.

He instinctively reached for his keys, mumbling under his breath when he realized he hadn’t driven.

Discovering his wallet wasn’t in his back pocket sent a shiver down his spine.

What was shaping up to be one hell of a mishap because it had either fallen out during the rescue, which meant it was lost. Or it was on the floor of Atticus’ truck.

Maybe in the chopper. Either way, it meant he’d have to man up and face both Atticus and Mackenzie again.

This was crazy.

She was crazy.

Mackenzie stared at the turn-of-the-century mansion as she sat in her Jeep, wondering how she’d even gotten there.

The last thing she recalled was listing all the points why confronting Foster now — while her harsh words still echoed in her head — was courting disaster.

Yet, her damn Wrangler had just turned onto the long winding gravel driveway before she’d even realized it.

And now, she was sitting there, gathering the courage to face the man.

The fact there were three other trucks parked off to one side set off warning bells.

That he likely wasn’t alone. She wasn’t sure if the rest of his team lived nearby or if they simply made a habit of hanging out most nights together.

Because with the rain still coming down in sheets and the wind threatening to blow away anything not tied down, it seemed unlikely that they’d simply stopped by for a chat.

Though, maybe that was her saving grace. What would allow her to simply hand him his wallet then slink off. Avoid touching on what had conspired between them in the chopper. How she’d done exactly what Charlie had said and let her fatigue and anger color her words.

She groaned. Who was she kidding? She’d been pissed at Foster Beckett long before tonight.

Ever since her brother had been killed and her father had started combing the earth for someone to take his place.

His determination to only hire men he’d worked with.

Once Atticus had learned Beckett and his team were retiring to Raven’s Cliff…

He’d been obsessed with having the man join Raven’s Watch. When Foster had turned her dad down…