Upchurch grabbed the free headset and smashed it over his ears. “You’re not going up alone, Diaz.”
He shot his brother a dark look, anything he might say would drown in the roar of the rotors as the helicopter lifted.
As the helicopter clawed into the driving rain, a brutal truth lodged in Crew’s chest.
To a man who loved, time wasn’t measured in minutes.
It was measured in heartbeats—and Crew was counting every damn one.
If he was right—if Reed had Fern—then this was a race he couldn’t afford to lose.
Reed only cared about making Crew pay for what happened to Conner.
And he’d decided Fern was the price.
* * * * *
Fern turned off the main road and onto the narrow mountain stretch. She’d spent a lot of time exploring the area surrounding Willowbrook, but she’d never come this far or gone into the mountains.
The trees crowded in on either side like they were closing ranks. The pavement faded into gravel and the curves tightened as the incline increased.
She’d met a few people who had cabins in the mountains and they always raved about the privacy and the beautiful views. Before getting behind the wheel, she was excited to discover this for herself…but the drive had her nerves hopping.
She checked the clock on the dash. She could meet with the client and get to the Black Heart Ranch in plenty of time to meet Crew for their watch party. She didn’t want to let him down—he seemed excited about her “meeting” his sister Callie. It was a big step in their relationship, one she was nervous about, but she was looking forward to their night.
As she rounded the first bend, her purse slipped on the passenger seat and her notebook fell out. She left it in favor of keeping both hands on the wheel.
When she mapped the route earlier, it said it wasn’t more than a mile up the mountain road. Marla told her Theo had called the greenhouse and said it was okay to go.
The rain started as a mist, barely worth noticing, just enough to smear the windshield and soften the edges of the road ahead.
Then it thickened.
Fern eased her foot off the gas as the mist turned into a fast-moving sheet, water streaking sideways as the wind picked up. Visibility dropped fast. The trees blurred into dark shapes, the road slicking beneath her tires.
Pressing her lips into a line, she listened to the instinct that told her this wasn’t smart.
She slowed more, then pulled over at the first narrow shoulder, heart thudding harder than it should have. Rain hammered the roof, loud and insistent. She reached into her bag for her phone to send a quick update, to say she was turning back—
Her fingers closed on fabric. Pens. A couple seed packets she planned to take to the community garden.
No phone.
Her breath caught.
She dumped the bag onto the seat, hands tensed. Searching through her belongings again, slower this time.
Nothing.
Her stomach cramped. Where was her phone? She remembered slipping it into her purse after her lunch break. If she’d known she didn’t have it, she never would’ve driven this far.
Never would’ve taken a mountain road with weather closing in like this.
“Okay,” she muttered. “Okay.”
The solution was simple. Turn around. Go back down.
She shifted into reverse and began the careful maneuver, rain lashing sideways as she tried to angle the car around on the narrow stretch. It felt like a thirty-point turn, and her pulse spiked with every inch she backed up.
