“Maybe.” The single word from Maggie was noncommittal.
Lilith heard it too. Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll call. If you’ve unblocked my number.”
Then the woman walked away, like she wasn’t the definition of evil.
Shit, he hated her. He’d met a lot of people he hated in his time as a SEAL, and Lilith was right up there with the scum of the earth.
He glanced down at Maggie. At the sad set of her lips. The shadows beneath her eyes. “Are you okay?” For a moment, she didn’t respond. “Maggie.” He slipped his arm from her waist to her shoulders. She jumped, and he repeated, “Are you okay?”
She nodded, but the move was almost jerky. “I’m fine.”
“Mags—”
“I need to go. I’ll see you around, Ethan.”
His jaw locked, but unless he forced her to stay, he had no choice but to watch her go.
The guys came to stand with him, coffee and to-go boxes in hand.
“Everything okay?” Connor asked.
“Maggie and I just ran into her aunt. Apparently, the two of them haven’t spoken in eleven years.”
Joel frowned, croissant in his mouth. “Coincidence?”
“I don’t believe in coincidences.” Whatever had happened that night between him and Maggie had involved Lilith. He’d always known it, but this confirmed it.
There was a small pause before Connor squeezed his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get back to the site. There’s a shit ton of work to be done there.”
Ethan nodded but shot one more glance over his shoulder. Lilith wasn’t there anymore. She’d somehow known all those years ago that Maggie was breaking up with him before he had. And Maggie was supposed to be home in Deep River that night.
What happened? That evening had never made sense to him.
One way or another, he was going to find out. Eleven years may have passed, but the pain was so fresh he felt it like it had happened yesterday.
7
Ethan froze inside the repurposed firehouse.
What the hell? This wasn’t the same building he’d stepped into a week ago. Where was the peeling paint and dirty floors?
He frowned at the clean, dark oak floorboards and fresh white walls. There was even furniture and a remodeled kitchen. A large table centered the main room. Couches sat to the side. A row of laptops waited on a table along the back wall. And was that a drone?
Connor stepped over to the whiteboard. “Someonegot shit done.”
“How the hell did they do it all in a week?” Seven days. It had beenseven dayssince he’d first stepped foot inside this old fire station—the same day he’d last seen Maggie at Bloom—and this wasn’t the same building. That place had barely been habitable.
He stepped over to the window, glancing out into the forest. They were in a remote part of Deep River right next to the water. Only a thin line of trees separated them from the river.
The firehouse was one of the original buildings from back when the town was founded. Back then, they’d filled tankers directly from the stream in preparation for fires.
He stepped into the long hall.
Every room was finished. One held medical kits and thermal blankets. There was a locker room. Hell, even a few rooms with beds.
At the end he found the old apparatus bay where the engines had once been held, now filled with equipment. Backpacks. Helmets. Harnesses and rope.
When he got back to the common area, all the guys were there.
