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But that’s not what she says. “I thought we could take it slowly at first.” She nibbles her lip, glancing at Logan like he might have the answers. “Like, maybe you and I get married after all. We have a small wedding and gradually introduce our new roommate to the family. Then after a while?—”

“Wait.” Logan cocks his head. “I’m the roommate in this scenario?”

Sara bites her lip so hard I’m afraid she’ll hurt herself. “I—I guess I hadn’t thought it through. To be honest, I don’t know what our options are.”

Gritting my teeth, I order myself not to yell.

“I’ll tell you what they are.” Like I’m some kind of expert here.

I’m so far out of my depth I can’t touch the sand with my toes.

“Our options are losing each other or losing our families and community. Our parents who raised us and spent all their money keeping a roof over our head.” I sound like my dad, and I hate that so much I want to punch through the window.

Or punch my own face, which feels like the best move right now.

Logan sits down on the edge of the bed. “Look, we don’t need to figure this out right away.” He’s slouched with his hand on Sara’s bare thigh, and it takes all my strength not to drop to my knees and get lost in her soft heat. In the pleasure of Logan’s toned body.

But that’s not an option. Not now, maybe not ever .

The affable dumbass keeps talking. “It’ll all be okay,” Logan insists. “We’re still figuring this out for ourselves. We don’t need to have answers for our families just yet.”

“Easy for you to say,” I fire back. “You work at a sex resort. I’m a fucking Navy SEAL. Can you even imagine me going to work and telling my teammates, ‘Sorry I can’t grab beers tonight. Gotta get home to my boyfriend and wife.”

“Yes,” Sara snaps back. “I can.”

So can I, that’s the thing. I can picture it clearly in my head.

Then I picture my dad, crowding my mom back against the kitchen wall. He’s snarling and spitting, enraged that she let me try out for church choir in fourth grade.

“You want him to be a fucking fairy?” Grabbing her arm, my old man shook her so hard her teeth clacked. “Is that what you want, Becks? You want your son to grow up getting his porthole stuffed by some goddamn ass bandit?”

The shame I felt then is nothing compared to the shame I feel now.

It’s not the same shame, that’s the weird thing. Back then, I believed the insults he spewed were the worst fucking thing I could be.

But here in this room, with two people I love, I know that’s not true at all. Being afraid to claim them as mine—to tell the whole world I’m in love with a man and a woman—that shame will eat me alive.

I stare at them both, breathing like I’ve just run an eight-minute mile. I’m so fucking mad I can’t see straight. But not at these beautiful people I love.

I’m mad at myself, goddammit.

Spinning around, I stare out the window, raking my hands through my hair. I’m dizzy and pissed off and so fucking confused.

“Trent.” Logan’s voice fills my head, but I don’t turn to look. “Hey, Frogman—look at me. ”

I can’t fucking look.

If I do, I might break. My heart broke already, the moment I walked out on Sara. I swore to myself I’d never hurt her again, and here I am making it worse. I’m hurting her more the longer I stay. The longer I stand at the foot of her bed, too spineless to stay, too weak to release her.

And now I’ve hurt Logan as well.

A buzz on the nightstand makes all three of us jerk. I glance at my phone, which sits facedown and crooked beside a half-empty glass of water. It vibrates and buzzes, inching its way toward the lamp.

I’d be an asshole to answer right now in the middle of such an important discussion. But I’m already an asshole, so I snatch it without checking to see who’s calling.

“Hello?”

“Trent?” My mom sounds unsteady and hoarse. “Honey, hi.”

The tremor in her voice sends alarm bells ringing in my head. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh, honey.” She draws shaky breath. “There’s been an accident.”

My throat closes tight, but I force it to work as I swallow. “What sort of accident?”

There’s a sob like she’s crying, then a sniff as she pulls it together. “He didn’t mean it,” she says. “He was just trying to talk to me, and I wouldn’t lis?—”

“What happened, Mom?” Balling my hands into fists, I turn to see Sara and Logan. They watch me with kind, concerned eyes. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s really not that bad, but I know you have medical training.” The composure she’s squeezing into her voice isn’t real. I know from experience. “If I go to the hospital, they’ll start asking questions, so I thought if you told me how to set a broken bone, I could just?— ”

“Holy fuck.” Tears clog my throat as I locate my shoes and stuff my feet into them. “Call 911, right now.”

“But Trent?—”

“If you’re hurt, Mom, I need you to go to the hospital. Now .”

Sara and Logan sit up straighter. They watch as I pace for a whole different reason.

My mom makes a sound of distress. “I can’t,” she whispers.

“You can .” I sound like my old drill sergeant, but that’s what she needs. “I’m ten hours away, maybe more. If you’ve broken a bone, you need professional help.”

Sara gasps, but I can’t look at her now. Squeezing my eyes shut, I cover my ear with a hand, holding the phone to the other.

“The hospital isn’t a good idea.” Mom’s no longer trying to cover the fact that she’s crying. “Your father could lose his career. I just need help setting the bone. It really doesn’t hurt much and?—”

“Mom.”

“Your father’s a good man, Trent.” She’s sobbing for real now, huge, heaving breaths clogged with tears. “He makes mistakes sometimes, but that’s what marriage is. It’s working together , like we need to right now to protect his livelihood.”

I’m so fucking angry I’m shaking. “You need help .”

“It isn’t that bad,” she insists. “I can feel the bone poking my skin from inside, but it hasn’t broken through. That’s good, right?”

Oh my God.

“No, Mom.” I try to stay calm, but that ship sailed a long time ago. “It’s not good at all. What did Dad do to you?”

“It was an accident,” she says. “We were talking, and he tried to get away. I grabbed his arm to stop him, and he pushed me and—” She dissolves into big, wracking sobs. “It’s my fault, Trent. He shouldn’t get in trouble for that.”

Red clouds my vision as I rush toward the door. Screw pity. I’m fucking furious. “I’m on my way now,” I insist. “If you won’t call an ambulance, I fucking will.”

“But honey?—”

“ Now, Mom. I’ll call you back in ten minutes.” I end the call without waiting for a response. With a hand on the doorknob, I turn to face Sara and Logan. “I have to go.”

“Trent, oh my God.” She leaps off the bed with tears in her eyes. “Your dad hurt your mother again?”

It’s that one word that gets me.

Again .

The pattern of violence and anger. I could have fucking stopped it, and I didn’t. Just one more failure on a list that keeps getting longer.

“There’s a 5 p.m. flight from Negril.” I assessed all escape routes before coming here. Not for this reason, but because that’s what I’m trained to do. “If I hurry, I’ll make the next shuttle boat.”

“Trent, wait.” She rushes to hug me, to offer relief.

But the last thing I need is her kindness. I don’t deserve one tiny bit of it.

“Let me help.” Logan stands, too. “My mom runs an international network for battered women. If you want?—”

“I don’t want any help.” I don’t deserve that. My mother might need it, but finding her medical aid is the biggest priority now. “Just, please—give me some space.”

Shoving open the door, I sprint from the room.

From the only two people I want in this moment.

My journey back home is a blur. If I called Ashton Holyfield and explained the emergency, he’d fly me home fast on his private jet. I’d probably make it to Portland in half the time.

But I’m too fucking ashamed to do that, so I do the next best thing .

I call Beck.

My cousin answers on the first ring. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Headed back from a private sex island in the Caribbean.” I wince at how bougie that sounds. “You still in Seattle?”

“Yes.”

I speak in a rush, spewing words I’m not sure will make sense. I share what I know, trusting Beck to fill in the blanks. He lived with my parents, he knows what it’s like.

I don’t even get the full story out before Beck interrupts. “I’m on my way.” There’s a pause as he quickly explains things to Cam, and I hear a low gasp of surprise.

“Trent?” Beck’s back on the line now. “I’m flying the Cessna and I’ll be there in an hour. Cam’s gonna drive the rental car separately with the kids. I’ll be on the ground in Portland by five. When will you get there?”

“Not that quick.” Even without the time difference, Beck will beat me by hours.

I’m so fucking grateful for my cousin right now.

“Just—can you make sure she gets to the hospital? I called 911, but they can’t force her to go in an ambulance if she refuses.

I don’t even know where my dad is right now. ”

Beck lets out a long string of curses, so I know what he thinks of my father. Like I didn’t already.

The fact that he’s willing to help her when she shut him out like she did?—

“You’re a good man, Beck.” A much better man than I am. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”

“Fuck off.” He fires up an engine in the background. “We step up for family, even when it’s hard.” There’s a pause as he mumbles to Cam. “ Especially when it’s hard.”

God, I feel shitty. “You should have heard her voice.” I’m almost in tears now. “All she’s ever done is try to be there for him.”

“It was always going to come to this, wasn’t it? ”

“Yeah.” I should have fucking known. I’m batting a thousand on failures here. “I’m sorry,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut as I move through the boarding line. A flight attendant gives me a pitying look.

“What the fuck are you sorry for?”

“That you have to deal with this.” That’s not why I’m sorriest. “For everything my dickhead dad ever said to you.”

Beck snorts. “You’re not your dad, Trent. You don’t owe me a goddamn apology.”

“Still—”

“Just focus on getting there quick.”

“I will.”

“And Trent?”

“Yeah?”

“When this is all over, I’m gonna need to hear about this sex island.”