He frowned and let her down, considering her seriously. Had a bad feeling about this. Dillon had been in communication on and off, but that wasn’t unusual. “What’s happened?”
“He vanished two months ago after an argument with Auntie Syd.”
Slowing, Owen huffed and looked at the night sky, guilt haranguing him.
Soph gaped at him, those green eyes piercing. “You knew and didn’t say a thing? Even to the Scions?”
“I didn’t think he was serious,” he balked.
She slapped his shoulder. “Usually, thinking is your strong suit.” She clucked her tongue, looped their arms, and resumed walking. “Apparently, he told Auntie Syd he was going to find his dad.”
“Holy…” He swiped a hand over his mouth, still unable to believe Dillon really thought he could resurrect the dead.
“Nobody’s heard from him since,” Sophia said as they neared the barn and pulsing music. “Because he’s an adult, local authorities can’t do a single thing.”
“Maybe I need to try to reach out.”
“You know he won’t tell you anything. Of the Scions, he’s always been the most stubborn.”
“Says the girl who held her breath till she passed out when she didn’t get her way.”
Her green eyes widened. “I was four!”
“Uh-huh.” He jutted his jaw to her feet. “How long you hold out for the boots?”
She frowned, but it was fake and surrendered to a smile that she topped with her nose up in mischief. “Not long at all. Daddy’s so proud I got into Carnegie Mellon, I could’ve asked for the moon and he’d have roped it for me.”
“Think Jimmy Stewart already did that.” Scanning as they entered the barn, replete with the smells of the country—hay, animals, and BBQ—he followed her to the refreshment table and grabbed a bottled water.
“Owen!”
He pivoted and spotted Sophia’s parents arcing out from behind the food table. “Ma’am, sir.”
Uncle Colton pulled him into a hug. Patted his back like he was providing life-saving measures. “Good to see you, son.”
“Thank you. Same, sir.”
“Has your dad talked you into Special Forces yet?”
Heat-seeking missiles apparently ran in the Scion family. Did everyone know? “Not yet.” He took a swig of the water. “But I’m sure it’s coming.”
The barrel-chested guy laughed. “You’re bred from good stock, so I’m sure you’ll find the right MOS.”
Stretching his jaw, Owen searched out his charge. Found Sophia in a huddle of girls and spotted some guys homing in on her. “If you’ll excuse me, Uncle Colton…”
“Appreciate the way you watch out for her.”
“Family,” he said with a cockeyed nod. “We protect our own.” With that, he strode toward her but slowed his roll, suddenly realizing he was legit out of place here.
Most of those partying were from the twins’ graduating class, so only a couple years younger than him, but with three years of Army under his belt, he felt a decade older. These people were just getting started. Hadn’t felt the sting of failure like he had.
“Sorry, Corporal. We just didn’t see what we need for the Regiment.”
As he reminisced that day, he slowly grew aware that he was staring at someone. Not intentionally, but his gaze had inadvertently locked with brown eyes. Olive complexion. A breeze swept through the barn, swaying the string lights crisscrossing overhead, and rustled her long, dark hair. Light hit her eyes and turned them caramel. She held his gaze for a second, then focused on her friends and lifted a red cup, which she sipped from. Smiled at something a friend said. Those caramel eyes found his again. And like that tiny zap of a hot socket, he felt the connection.
“Owen!”
He twitched at Soph’s shout and pivoted her way.
