Page 5 of North

Great. North wanted to turn the man to ash but, well, Dakota was the newest guy on the team. He’d been in Mariposa over the past year as the Jones, Inc., team helped with the reconstruction process after a landslide had decimated the island. He’d seen North and Selah together—eating at one of the sidewalk cafés or swimming in the ocean or even helping out with the orphans at Hope House.

It felt like a dream, really—most of it, at least. A Caribbean getaway, after which North had been planning to propose⁠—

“That’s right. You came back early,” West said to Dakota, now focused on the story instead of the game. “You missed all the action. Selah got it in her head that she was going to take supplies to a village on the other side of the island. They weren’t hit by the landslide, but all of their commerce and goods came out of the town of Esperanza, so they were short on food and medical supplies⁠—”

“Wait.” Dakota sat up. “The only way to the other side of the island is past⁠—”

“The old S-7 gang compound,” Skeet said.

“Yeah. Sebold is gone, but they’re still trying to stir up trouble.” North glanced at the invitation. “They followed her to the village and robbed her. She turned stubborn.”

Silence as Dakota frowned. “Selah is...She’s not a fighter.”

“No, but she is resilient. And...anyway, if I hadn’t shown up⁠—”

“I was there too,” Skeet said. “A gang member had a machete to her throat. If we hadn’t gotten there in time⁠—”

“Thanks for that memory, Easton.” North gave him a look.

Skeet held up his hand. “Uh-oh. Boss man used my big name.”

“I’m just saying that...Can we not talk about this, please?”

West turned to Dakota. “North and Selah had an epic brawl.” He picked up the remote to unmute the game.

“It wasn’t epic. Or a brawl,” North growled. Except, given her usual peacemaking demeanor and maybe his own unflappableness...yes, he might call it...Fine. They had certainly been a lot louder than he’d intended.

And she’d slammed the door on her way out, which had him perplexed.

“When did this happen?” Dakota asked over the volume of the game.

“A month ago,” Skeet said. “One long month of North here talking in his sleep and growling at everyone and wishing he could go back in time and⁠—”

“That’s enough.” North met Skeet’s eyes.

The former SEAL cocked his head, gave North a grim look, unfazed. “He wasn’t a kid. He had intent and determination. You did the only thing you could. And you were cleared. But maybe Selah doesn’t know all that.”

North drew in a breath. “Fine. You’re right. Now that I’m back, I’ll figure out how to fix it.”

“She’s not here, man,” West said, glancing over his shoulder. “Selah left town. Some camp out west. Jake and Aria were home last week, and there was this shindig at the Silver place. Said she was taking off a couple days ago.”

North stared at him, the words a punch.

Just like that, she’d left. Again.

“Right. Well, I’ll...just...” North put his fist into the wall. He turned and headed upstairs.

His bedroom boasted nearly floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lake. A stone path led from the lower-level walkout, past the firepit to his empty boat launch.

He’d kept the bedroom simple—a platform bed, linen sheets, a wooden headboard, a massive flatscreen on the far wall. And over the bed, one massive photo of an oil painting done by an artist he’d seen on the internet, of Jesus reaching into the water to grab a hand.

His hand, or so he’d felt at the time.

Maybe he needed to remember that on days like today.

He tossed the wedding invitation on the bed, pulled off his shirt and threw it in the hamper in the walk-in closet, then went over and picked the invite back up. Thumbed open the envelope.

A simple card inviting him to the wedding of Ford Marshall and Scarlett Hathaway in Key West, less than a month from today.