Page 55

“Hey, gang, the cavalry has arrived!” she said, arms outstretched like she was trying to hug us all at once. Her black eye had darkened, the swelling nearly sealing her eye shut, but Maya wasn't the type to let that slow her down.

Just like Tory and that bullet wound. The thought of her made my heart skip. She'd barely winced when I’d cleaned that bullet graze, acting like it was nothing more than a paper cut.

Maya swept her gaze to mine, and she grinned. “Hey, Jaxson, have you met my fiancé, Zac?”

I set the box down and extended a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Zac’s handshake was firm, and his tone friendly, but there was something about his accent that threw me. American? Maybe. But it wasn’t quite right. I couldn’t pin it down.

“Any news on Viper or Blade?” Maya asked, her gaze sweeping over the group.

“Not yet,” Aria replied, her voice clipped and tight.

Whisper leaned back in her chair, her smirk playful and laced with mischief. “Huh. I figured at least one of them would’ve escaped from the hospital by now.”

“They would if they could,” Maya said, her expression darkening. “Those boys were in rough shape by the time we got them out of that water.”

“They’re lucky to be alive,” I added. “I have no doubt they would have drowned in that high tide.”

Cody shuddered. “Know that feeling.”

Whisper reached over and curled her hand around Cody’s neck, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “When we were lost in the Daintree, I had to fish my man out of the water twice. Didn’t I, Cowboy?”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. “Yeah, and now she’s torturing me.”

"Learning to swim isn't torture, you big baby," she teased, grinning.

Cody wriggled free of her embrace. "It is when waves keep trying to drown me."

Laughter rippled through the room.

A phone rang, and Aria eased back her chair, pulling her phone from her pocket as she strolled to the far windows.

"You have surf here?" I glanced at Cobra.

"Nothing huge ‘cause the offshore islands block most of the waves, but decent enough," Cobra said.

"Didn't know you even had a beach," I said. "Rosebud doesn't."

"We do, and it's gorgeous." Maya's eyes lit up. "Take School Road to the end, turn right, and follow it till you hit sand. Oh, and when you get to the beach, go left and you’ll find the turtle hatchery that Zena and her sister Brooke saved."

I pictured Tory and I walking along that beach under moonlight, and my cock pulsed to life.

"Morning." Tory’s voice pulled my attention, and my heart did an embarrassing flip as she strolled in. Her tiny shorts showed off miles of tanned legs, and her pink button-up, knotted at the waist, revealed just enough skin to short-circuit my brain.

Holy hell. She is hot!

"Morning, sleepyhead," Whisper said.

"I needed that sleep." Tory ran her fingers through her thick blonde hair as she approached, catching my gaze with a tiny smile that made my pulse skip.

"It's okay. We all know you and Jaxson slept together," Whisper blurted.

"Whisper!" Cody and I protested in unison.

Tory just shrugged, unfazed. "You're right. We did. And it was the best sleep I've had in ages."

"Huh," Parker said. "That's nearly exactly what Jaxson said."

I couldn't help grinning. "Because it's true. "

Aria returned to the tables. “Hey, guys. Just got word that Blade will be discharged today. He needs to take it easy, though. Viper had an operation overnight to repair his broken leg, so he’ll be there a couple more days.”

“Phew, that’s a relief,” Maya said.

As Aria sat, a frown drilled across her forehead. “Listen up. I still don’t believe Watts is dirty, so can we please get to the bottom of that? The doubt is killing me.”

The banter faded, replaced by the quiet rustle of papers and the occasional scrape of chairs.

Tory settled beside me with a box of her own, and her shoulder brushed mine. When our eyes met, a small, teasing smile tugged at her lips, and it took everything I had to keep my composure.

“How’s your wound?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” she replied, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth in a way that sent my pulse skittering.

I swallowed hard, resisting the overwhelming urge to close the gap between us and kiss her.

“Oh, before we get started, I just want to hand these out,” Maya said, sliding envelopes across the table toward me, Parker, and Whitney.

Frowning, I picked up the blank envelope and flipped it over.

“Open them,” she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

I slid my finger under the flap and pulled out a formal-looking invitation.

“You’re all invited to our wedding.” She beamed like a giddy teenager as she glanced up at Zac. “And we won’t take no for an answer, will we, babe?”

“Absolutely not.” Flashing an enormous smile, Zac draped his arm across Maya’s shoulders.

“We’re getting married at Aria and Xander’s place, and then afterward, we’re going to dance our asses off. Right?” She shot a hopeful look at Aria as if confirming nothing had changed.

“Of course,” Aria said with a warm smile. “I’ve already got my dancing shoes.”

“No need for shoes, baby.” Maya giggled. “Barefoot is better. So jot it down in your diaries. It’s about time we all had something to celebrate. You’re coming, aren’t you, Tory?”

“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it,” she said, smiling.

“Awesome,” Maya said, swiveling toward me with a sassy wink. “Maybe Tory could be your date?” she teased, wriggling her brows for added effect.

Catching Tory’s amused gaze, I asked, “What do ya think?” I exaggerated my accent like a proper bushman. “Wanna go on a date?”

As Tory giggled, her cheeks turned a shade pinker. “When you put it that way, how can I resist?”

Maya clapped. “Perfect! And the same goes for you two,” she said, turning her attention to Parker and Whitney. “Bring a date!”

Parker and Whitney both rolled their eyes as if the idea itself was exhausting. I couldn’t remember the last time either of them had gone on a date. But knowing Maya, and with Whisper’s matchmaking skills, it wouldn’t surprise me if that changed real soon.

Maya plonked a box onto the table next to me and dusted her hands on her tight, white jeans. “Are we still searching for Beatrice and Watts?”

Aria nodded, pulling her phone from her pocket and frowning at the screen. “Watts,” she muttered, hitting the answer button and bringing the phone to her ear. “Aria Morgan.”

As she listened, I studied her expression, but Aria was a fortress, her features giving nothing away. I forced my attention back to the box in front of me, flipping through the pages. Halfway down the stack was another ledger. Dreading what I was about to find, I turned the cover.

The ledger's opening date was January 1, 1946. Huh. I’d forgotten the orphanage was over a hundred years old. Hopefully, it hadn’t always been as sinister as its later years.

What had changed to make life so horrific for the kids who lived there?

The ledger was similar to the one Whitney had found, with columns headed with names, and dates of birth, etcetera, but this one included an additional column marked Notes .

Three words repeated down the column: Transferred. Adopted. Deceased.

At a glance, it seemed that even in the late 1940s, just as many children had died as had been adopted. Then again, this was an era when the world was still reeling from the aftermath of World War II. Times must have been unimaginably harsh.

I flipped through the pages, curiosity tugging me forward, searching for the final entry. The last date recorded was October 16, 1966.

The Kincaid brothers were born in the early 1960s so I checked the last couple of entries, but didn’t recognize any of the names.

Setting the ledger aside, I reached into the box and pulled out another book, this one labeled Staff Roster .

Flipping the cover open, I noted the journal started in 1980. Like the previous ledger, it listed dates, names, and payments. But this one also recorded clock-in and clock-out times. Relief washed over me as I realized it was a record of employees, not children.

I skimmed through the pages, unease coiling in my stomach. How many of these staff members knew what was happening in that twisted place? How many had looked the other way?

My gaze snagged on a name.

“Holy shit! I got one,” I blurted. “Beatrice Holloway. But she was staff.”

The others crowded around as I turned the book toward them.

“She was staff ?” Aria’s eyes widened. “I hadn’t even considered that.”

“Could that be Triss Holloway ?” Ryder muttered, his face paling. “Roger Newton’s secretary? She’s the right age, and she knows that Rosebud Wharf area better than anyone.”

“Let’s find out,” Aria said, pulling out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts before pressing one to call, and as she held the phone to her ear, her eyes darted between Ryder and the ledger.

“Roger, it’s Aria Morgan. Is Triss there?”

A tense silence filled the room as we exchanged glances.

Aria’s expression crumbled. “Thanks, Roger. No . . . no, I’ll get back to you.”

She ended the call, scowling as she lowered the phone. “Triss hasn’t shown up for work for the last couple of days, and he can’t get hold of her. ”

“Jesus Christ,” I growled. “She’s been working right under our noses this whole damn time.”