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Hell. She’s right. The logic is sound. Why have I kept this buried? Pride? Or maybe I just wanted one safe space, like my company, where I could pretend this nightmare doesn’t exist. But if Gianni, or any of the others, have connections I haven’t reached yet, I’m a fool for not asking.

“Thank you, Loretta.”

“I’m here anytime you need me. But I think this may require more than I’m trained to do.” I tilt my head in confusion, and she continues before I can ask. “You need to meet with someone on a regular basis, Max. Talk this out. I’m surprised you and your parents don’t have major health issues. No one is built to carry this amount of despair day in and day out. Have you met with a counselor?”

“Sure. In the beginning,” I mutter, the memory of those sterile offices making me itch. “But I was wound so tight, I couldn’t concentrate. My mind was always on the next lead, the next hack. I couldn’t sit still long enough to process anything.”

“Well, if this girl you’ve met is the one, she deserves to have an equal partner. Not someone who is bound for self-destruction.” She reaches up, smoothing a lock of my tousled hair before patting my shoulder. “Maybe you need to take something so you can get a good night’s sleep.”

Sleep. The word feels foreign. The last time I truly slept—deep, dreamless, restorative sleep, was with her. It shouldn’t make sense. She had just finished telling me about the jail, the assault, and the death of her father. We were both bleeding from old wounds, yet the moment I pulled her against me, the world went quiet.

What kind of magic does Cassidy possess? How can she lull me to sleep despite the trauma we’re both living through? This thing with her is more than simply a physical attraction. She’s the only thing that truly feels right in my world.

I look down at the note she left me. The missing piece of the puzzle she located.

Loretta is right. I can’t be the man she deserves if I’m just a ticking time bomb of survivor’s guilt. I need to get my head straight if I stand a chance with her.

35

CASSIDY

“Cassidy, it’s so great to finally meet you. When Sebastian told me Fire’s sister was as smart and steadfast as he was, I secretly hoped I’d have the chance to meet you one day.” Isabella pulls me in for a hug like we’re old friends.

“Well, I certainly didn’t intend to drop in on you unannounced. But I panicked and wasn’t sure where else to go.”

“Hush, now.” She waves me in from the foyer. “We’re glad to have you, regardless of the reason.” I look over my shoulder at my dad’s old car parked in their driveway and cringe. This house and the grounds are worthy of a magazine cover. I’m about to offer to park it down the street when a handsome man with dark curly hair, delicious facial stubble, deep dimples, and sexy blue eyes fills the doorway.

“Well, hello.”

“No!” Sebastian barks before slamming the door in his face. What the heck?

“Nice! I was merely trying to say hello to your stunning house guest. How rude.” His voice carries through the front door, despite two children’s loud cackling.

“How did you find out Cassidy was even here? Do you have some type of camera set up on our house so you’ll know when the coast is clear?” Sebastian yells back at him through the door, seeming to have no interest in letting him in. “Just try me, Sam. I have no problem charging you with breaking and entering the next time I find you here uninvited.”

My eyes widen, and I turn to Isabella in shock. “What is happening?” I whisper.

“These two.” She huffs. “Every day is like a bad television sitcom.” She reaches for the door, ushering him in. “Sam, meet Cassidy. Cassidy, Sebastian’s little brother, Sam.”

He reaches for my hand, bowing down like I’m royalty before placing a kiss upon it.

I hear Sebastian mutter behind me, “For fuck’s sake.”

Isabella rolls her eyes and rubs circles over her swollen belly. “Language, Bas.”

“Are you new in town?” Sam asks.

“No!” Sebastian answers with a palm to Sam’s face, appearing to push him back out of the foyer and onto the front porch.

“Will you knock it off?” Isabella scolds.

I turn to find their son, Austin, who is every bit as tall as his father, squatting down to his little brother’s level, mimicking Sebastian’s move with Rowan. Rowan falls over and immediately begins to belly-laugh.

“Nice, Bas. Look what you’re teaching our son.”

“It’s his fault,” he blurts, pointing at Sam.

“What did I do?”