I copied everything instead.
Then I ran.
I told myself it was the right thing. I told myself turning the evidence over anonymously would protect him—force the company to implode without dragging his name through the mud if I could help it. I told myself he’d forgive me eventually.
I was wrong.
The black SUV isn’t corporate security.
It’s him.
I know because I saw the driver’s face once, just for a second, when he rolled down the window at a stoplight in Missoula. Same crooked jaw. Same scar above his left eyebrow from the time he fell off the garage roof when we were kids.
Ethan’s trying to find me. To get the drive back. To make sure no one ever sees what he did. And now I’m here—safe in Beck’s bed, wrapped in his scent, wearing his promises like armor—while the man who raised me is the monster hunting me down the mountain.
My hands start shaking so badly I nearly drop the phone. I set it face-down on the nightstand, pressing my palms to my eyes until I see stars as I try to breathe through the panic clawing up my throat.
Beck shifts behind me. The mattress dips. A warm, heavy arm slides around my waist, pulling me back against his chest without a word. He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. He just holds me. Chin tucked over my shoulder. Heartbeat steady against my spine.
After a long minute his voice rumbles low against my ear. “Whatever it is, we carry it together.”
I squeeze my eyes shut harder. “You don’t know what it is.”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“It does.” My voice cracks. “It matters a lot.”
He turns me gently until I’m facing him. He cups my face in those big, callused hands. Thumbs brush the damp tracks I didn’t realize were tears. “Then tell me,” he says. Quiet. Unyielding. “Right now. All of it.”
I open my mouth. Nothing comes out at first. Then it spills—ugly, jagged, unstoppable. “My brother. Ethan. He’s the one behind it. The cooked books. The money. He asked me to help hide it. I didn’t. I took the proof instead. And now he’s the one after me. The SUV—it’s not some faceless corporate goon. It’s him.”
Beck doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull away. Just watches me with those steady hazel-green eyes while the confession bleeds out.
When I’m done, he’s silent for one long beat.
Then he exhales. Slow. Controlled. “Family’s complicated,” he says finally. “Doesn’t make what he did right. Doesn’t make what you did wrong.”
“I betrayed him.”
“You protected yourself. And probably a lot of other people who would’ve lost everything if those numbers stayed buried.”
I shake my head. “He’s still my brother.”
“Yeah.” Beck’s thumb strokes my cheekbone. “And right now he’s the threat. That changes the math.”
I search his face. “You’re not… angry? That I didn’t tell you sooner?”
“Angry you’re carrying this alone? Yeah.” His voice roughens. “Angry you thought you had to? Fuck yes. But angry at you?” He shakes his head. “No.”
Fresh tears burn my eyes. “What if he finds us?”
“Then he finds me standing between you and him.” Beck’s jaw sets. Hard. Final. “And he’ll have to kill me to get past.”
“Don’t say that.”
“I mean it.”
I grab his wrists, and hold tight. “I can’t lose you too.”
