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The cracked motel mirror reflected a face she barely recognized—her father’s sharp angles and hazel eyes staring back, shadowed with exhaustion. She didn’t remember the lines around her mouth being quite so deep, but maybe that’s what running did to a person. Maybe that was what hiding cost.

God, she was tired.

At the foot of the bed, Luka shifted, letting out a sleepy sigh as he nestled his head against her knee. Rowan stroked his velvety ears, anchoring herself in the dog's calm presence. She’d dragged Davey’s dog halfway across the country, justifying it in every way except the one that mattered.

She wanted him to come for her.

Every choice she had made, every step she had taken, had brought her here. A dingy motel room miles away from home. Miles away from family. The kind of place where guilt and regret crept under the door like the draft of cold January air.

Her phone buzzed on the bedside table, and Rowan’s pulse jumped, a traitorous flicker of hope flaring before she could crush it. Davey? Her stomach tightened, dread replacing hope as quickly as it had surfaced.

It wasn’t Davey.

It was Rue.

She nearly ignored the call—but Rue never called just to chat. In Rowan’s experience, her younger sister only reached out when she was neck-deep in trouble and needed rescuing—again. Rue was mayhem incarnate, always diving headfirst into chaos and expecting Rowan to pull her out before she drowned.

But what if this call was about Dad? Fear tightened in her chest, sharp and sudden. Ignoring Rue wasn’t an option—not when their father was still recovering from surgery.

Five minutes. She could spare at least five minutes. The line was encrypted, and she was safe.

She tapped the screen. “All right, Rue. What trouble are you in this time?”

Rue’s face filled the screen, her expression immediately morphing into a mixture of relief, irritation, and concern. With her honey-blonde hair, scattering of freckles, and ridiculously dainty features, Rue was so much like their mother that it sometimes stole Rowan’s breath.

“What trouble am I in?” Rue scoffed. “You can't be serious! You're the one who’s been MIA for months. Where the hell are you?”

Rowan sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. “Are you okay? Are Mom and Dad?”

“Well, Mom’s worried sick about you, and Dad...” Rue trailed off, and her expression softened.

“Dad, what?” Rowan asked, her heart rate quickening. “Is he okay?”

Rue’s eyes narrowed again, that softness evaporating like it had never been there. “Oh, now you care?”

“That’s not fair. I’ve always cared. You know that.”

“Running away in the middle of the night after he had major surgery without so much as a goodbye doesn’t exactly scream ‘I care.’ ”

Guilt twisted sharply in Rowan’s gut, heavy and bitter. Rue wasn’t wrong—but Rowan couldn’t tell her the truth, either. It would only endanger her sister further. “I had my reasons,” she finally managed, knowing the words were hollow even as she said them.

“Oh, I’m sure you did.” Rue’s tone was biting. “Let me guess— it has something to do with that Wilde guy you’re so obsessed with. You know Dad hired him to find you?”

Heat crept up Rowan’s neck. “I am not obsessed with Davey.”

At the sound of Davey’s name, Luka lifted his head from her knee. The dog’s brown eyes were steady, warm with a loyalty Rowan knew she didn’t deserve. She swallowed hard, guilt and longing colliding inside her, painful and sharp.

“Right,” Rue said. “That’s why you stole his dog.”

“I didn’t steal him. I... borrowed him.” Even as she said the words, she realized how dumb they sounded.

“Borrowed?” Rue’s eyes bugged out almost comically. “You can’t borrow a living creature!”

“I’m going to give him back.”

“You’d better. Elliot says Davey’s been tearing the country apart looking for you two.”

“Wait. Since when do you and Elliot talk?”

Rue’s cheeks flushed a soft pink, and for the first time in weeks, a real smile tugged at Rowan’s mouth.

“You like him.”

“Of course I like him. He’s a nice guy.”

“No, you like him , like him.”

“That’s not—” Rue sputtered, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of pink. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you stealing Davey’s dog . I thought you were trying to avoid him, but you might as well have sent him an engraved invitation to come after you by taking Luka. What were you thinking?”

Rowan looked at Luka, who was still watching her with almost human-like focus. She stroked his ear and realized she had no answer, so she stayed quiet.

Rue nodded. “You want him to find you. I see it all over your face.”

“No.” The denial was automatic.

“Oh, come on. You’ve had a crush on Davey since we were kids.”

“And apparently, you’ve had a crush on Elliot?”

“Rowan. Deflecting won’t work on me.”

“No, I don’t have a crush on him.” That would be simple. Manageable. What she felt was worse—messier, tangled, impossible. But she wasn’t going to tell Rue that. “I don’t like him, and he hates me.”

“Which is why you’ve been fucking each other’s brains out every chance you get, right?”

“Jesus, Rue.” Her sister may look sweet and innocent, but she’d been raised by badasses, too, and had the mouth to match.

“I’m just saying. Elliot mentioned how he and Dom found Davey naked and tied to his bed on Christmas morning. But I’m sure you know nothing about that, right?”

“Elliot needs to keep his mouth shut.” Rowan’s whole body lit up like a sparkler at the memory of all of that powerful muscle and stubborn man tied up under her, at her mercy, helpless and wanting. She shook her head, trying to clear the image. “And that was… I needed to get away, and he wasn’t going to let me go.”

Rue snickered. “You left him there for hours !”

“He deserved it,” Rowan muttered, but even she could hear the lack of conviction in her voice. “He was being an ass that night.” While simultaneously giving her multiple shattering orgasms. But, still. An ass.

“Uh-huh,” Rue said.

“Seriously, Rue, it’s not what you think.”

“Oh really? Because I think you two have more chemistry than a meth lab, and you’ve been dancing around each other for years, pretending to hate each other while secretly pining away.”

“We’re not pining,” Rowan snapped. “It’s not like that with us.”

“Then what’s it like?”

She exhaled in a rush. “I don’t get your sudden interest in my sex life, but we… made an agreement. We don’t like each other, so there is no chance of ever becoming more than fuck buddies. It works for both of us.”

“Uh-huh,” Rue said again, doubt heavy in her voice. Then she sighed, and she suddenly looked exhausted, which was more than a little worrying. Rue was caffeine personified, constantly bouncing around the globe from one adventure to the next, thriving off thrills and spontaneity. But right now, she just looked tired and sad.

“Rue, is everything okay with you?”

Her smile fell flat. “Of course. I just… I’d like to see my big sister?—”

“You’re seeing me now.”

“ In person ,” Rue stressed. “Before I go on my next trip.”

Something about the way she said the word “trip” made the little hairs prickle at the back of Rowan’s neck. “Where are you going?”

“Just taking some scientists to Antarctica. No big deal.”

Rowan’s eyes narrowed. “Antarctica? In January? That sounds dangerous.”

Rue waved a dismissive hand. “It’s fine. January is summer down there, and I’ve done plenty of cold-weather expeditions before.”

“Yeah, but… what kind of scientists? What are they studying?”

“Just some climatologists and geologists. Boring stuff.” Rue’s eyes slid away from the camera. “Look, can we not talk about my work?”

The abrupt change of subject set off alarm bells in Rowan’s head. “Rue, what aren’t you telling me?”

“Probably about as much as you’re not telling me,” she shot back. “You share, I share.”

“No.”

“Then, also, no.” Rue sighed, her shoulders slumping. “I just miss you, okay? Mom and Dad miss you. Why don’t you come home?”

A lump formed in Rowan’s throat. “Is Dad losing his mind?”

“You know he is. Mom practically had to tie him down to keep him from coming after you.”

“Is he okay?”

“He’s grumpy.”

“He’s always grumpy. But he’s healing well?”

After decades of dealing with a busted-up foot from a car accident that happened before they were born, Gabe Bristow had finally been forced to have the limb amputated below his knee late last summer. Rowan had waited until he’d made it safely through surgery, then took off, figuring she’d have a good head start with him in the hospital for two weeks. Of course she’d expected Dad to send one of his guys after her—probably Jackson Quinn or Wyatt Warrick, since they were poised to take over the team when Dad finally decided to retire. What she hadn’t expected was for him to hire the job out to Wilde Security Worldwide—to Davey, the one person she needed to avoid at all costs, the one person who was like gravity, constantly pulling her back into his orbit.

Did Dad know how she felt about Davey?

Maybe.

Probably.

And, as usual, Dad had out-maneuvered her.

“Yes, he’s healing,” Rue said in answer to her question. “He’s started using the prosthetic, but he can’t move as quickly as he’d like. And that pisses him off. He hates the walker more than he hated his old cane.”

Rowan smiled at the image of her big, tough father using a walker. He would hate that. He’d barely tolerated the cane, using it only when absolutely necessary.

Unlike Audrey Bristow, who had embraced aging by letting her hair go steel gray—according to her, she was in her “witchy era”—Gabe steadfastly refused to admit he was getting older. He had a workout regimen that most men half his age wouldn’t be able to keep up with, and at the rate he was going, he would live to be one hundred and fifty.

Unless something happened to him.

Unless Rowan’s enemies went after him to get to her.

And he was vulnerable right now, healing from a major surgery, learning to use his prosthetic.

Her smile faded at the thought. “I can’t come home. I’ll put everyone in danger.”

Rue rolled her eyes. “Uh, hello? Remember who we live with. Our ‘uncles’ are as scary as our father. I think they can handle a bit of danger.”

The “uncles” were not blood-related but Dad’s brothers-in-arms. They could handle themselves, but they were all mostly retired now.

“It’s not just a bit of danger,” Rowan said, frustration seeping into her tone. “It’s not something they can handle with an old rifle and a couple of hand grenades.”

Rue’s golden-brown eyes narrowed. “So what’s your plan, then? Run away and hide forever?”

Rowan glanced down at Luka again, his warm body comforting against her leg. She had no intention of hiding, but she wasn’t about to tell Rue that. “If that’s what it takes.”

Her sister sighed heavily and ran a hand through her honey-colored hair in a gesture that was so reminiscent of their father that it made Rowan’s heart clench. “That’s not what Dad would want.”

“Dad can’t dictate my life forever.”

“No,” Rue said quietly. “Of course not. But he loves you, and he wants you safe.”

But I’m not safe. Nobody I love is safe.

Silence stretched between them for several seconds before Rue finally spoke again. “Mom wants to talk to you.”

A lump formed in Rowan’s throat. She hadn’t spoken to her mother since she’d disappeared from home months ago. As much as she wanted to hear her mother’s voice, she also dreaded the conversation that would follow. Audrey Bristow wasn’t a woman who minced words.

“She’d be pissed if I said no, wouldn’t she?”

“Oh, furious.”

And in Rowan’s opinion, their easy-going mom’s fury was much more frightening than their dad’s. She glanced at the clock in the corner of her screen. More than five minutes had passed, but she could spare a few more. “Okay, give her the phone. But not Dad.”

The screen was blank for a moment, and then came the familiar face of her mother. Audrey Bristow was undeniably beautiful even in her sixties, with her gray hair styled in loose waves around her face. She’d streaked in some color since Rowan had last seen her—purples and teals. Her amber eyes sparkled with a warmth that Rowan wanted to wrap herself up in.

“Rowan Kendra Bristow,” Audrey chided gently, her tone laced with exasperated affection. “You’re every bit as stubborn as your father.”

Tears burned suddenly in Rowan’s eyes, catching her off guard. She felt like she was five again, trapped in a nightmare, desperately wanting her mother’s arms around her. “Hi, Mom.”

“There’s my fierce girl,” Audrey murmured. “You’ve been missed.”

Silence fell between them. What could she say? That she had missed them too? That she wished things were different?

“I’m sorry,” she finally managed to choke out.

“Honey, I know,” Audrey said softly. “And although I don’t understand your reasons for leaving, I trust you have them. But you need to come home. Whatever trouble you’re in... you don’t have to face it alone. We’re your family, remember? Your dad—your uncles—they can protect you. Let us help.”

As much as Rowan longed to heed her mother’s advice, she knew the danger she was in—and she knew she could not risk bringing it home to those she loved. And part of her was afraid that once they found out why she was running, once her dad found out, they wouldn’t be nearly so understanding. What she’d done… what she’d agreed to do…

How could they ever forgive her?

How could Davey ever forgive her?

She was just tired. So tired. And alone. And scared.

Rowan swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. She couldn’t break down in front of her mother. If she did, Audrey would move heaven and earth to get her home.

“I... I can’t explain everything right now. But please trust me when I say it’s safer for everyone if I stay away.”

Audrey’s eyes softened with understanding and a hint of sadness. “Oh, sweetheart. You didn’t just get your father’s stubbornness. You got his heart, too. Always trying to protect everyone, even at your own expense.”

But that wasn’t true. Gabe Bristow was a hero, a man who’d spent his life rushing into danger to save others. Rowan was none of those things.

“Mom, I...” she began, but the words trailed off, caught in the knot of emotions tightening in her throat. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She hung up before her mother could respond and stared at the blank phone screen, half-expecting it to start ringing again immediately.

It didn’t.

She turned it off to make sure, then exhaled in a rush and flopped back on the bed. Luka crawled up to lay beside her, his head resting in the crook of her arm.

“You got his heart, too.”

No. She wasn’t selfless like her father. She hadn’t stolen Davey’s dog to protect anyone. She’d taken Luka because she couldn’t stand to leave behind the last connection she had to Davey. And, okay, yes, Rue was right— she’d done it so he’d be forced to come after her. Which painted a giant target on his back and defeated the whole point of… well, everything she was trying to accomplish.

Stupid. Reckless. Dangerous.

She needed to get her head out of her ass and fix this.

Rowan sat up abruptly, and Luka lifted his head, staring at her with concern. She stroked his ear reassuringly.

“I can’t keep you, boy. As much as I want to.”

He whined softly, and her heart clenched. She’d grown attached to the dog in the short time they’d been together. His steady presence had been a comfort during her lonely nights on the run. But she couldn’t keep endangering Davey like this. If she returned his dog and somehow convinced Dad to release Davey from the assignment, he’d have no reason to chase her and put himself at risk.

She gathered her meager belongings, shoving them haphazardly into her backpack. Her fingers brushed the burner phone she’d purchased, and she hesitated.

Should she call Davey? Let him know she was bringing Luka back?

No. That would only complicate things.

He’d try to convince her to stay, to let him help. Or, worse, he’d alert her father, who would tell him to bring her home.

She zipped up her backpack with a decisive tug. She couldn’t risk calling Davey or anyone else. She’d just sneak into his place, drop the dog off, and disappear again.

“Come on, Luka,” she said softly. “Time to go home.”

His ears perked up at her words, his tail wagging slightly, and guilt gnawed at her belly. Luka clearly missed Davey as much as she?—

No. She wouldn’t let herself finish that thought.

She walked to the door but then hesitated with her hand on the knob. Beyond it lay danger, uncertainty, and Davey Wilde.

The man she’d turned her life upside down for. The man she was trying to protect, though he didn’t know it. The man she?—

Nope. Again, she wasn’t going to finish that thought, even inside her own head. So she sucked in a fortifying breath, opened the door…

And there he stood, as if she’d summoned him with her thoughts—Davey Wilde, dangerous and impossible, waiting right outside her door.