Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103665 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Christian didn’t move. “Somebody cut her brakes and she crashed into the river last night. Got her home, got her warmed up, and then you called me this morning to come down here.”
Brock’s chin lifted and his eyes narrowed. “Her brakes were cut?”
“I think so. She lost control on the river road because the brakes failed completely.” Christian lifted one shoulder, the smallest shrug, though anger spiraled tight in his chest. Not panic. He didn’t do panic. But whatever lived beneath his skin had teeth, and it was gnawing at him now. “We’ll have the Miller boys pull it out once they have the right equipment.”
The SUV. It was still in the river. Who had gotten to her brakes that night? He didn’t like the idea of security cameras in his town, but maybe it was time to change that thinking.
Brock’s eyes flashed. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Christian paused. A slight shift in weight, a slow exhale through his nose. The night before, he had forgotten all about the SUV the second he stepped into the shower with Amka. Then he’d stopped thinking entirely. “There was nothing you could do last night. The more immediate concern was getting her warm.”
“You’ve had a thing for her, C. I know it, just because I know you. Now her fiancé is dead after she spent the night with you?”
Christian didn’t flinch. Didn’t offer a single word. Because there was nothing to refute. Brock knew him too well.
“Still,” Brock continued, voice edged and sharp now, “you wouldn’t cross that line. Not with an engaged woman. Not even for her.”
Christian wasn’t sure that was true anymore. Even if he hadn’t known about the blackmail, that the engagement wasn’t real, he would’ve taken her home. He would’ve undressed her out of wet clothes and held her until her body stopped shaking. He wouldn’t have sent her away. Not even to keep his conscience clean.
Especially when she made the first move. Even he wasn’t that strong. “Maybe we just slept.”
“Bullshit.” Brock scrubbed a rough hand through his thick, dark hair. His jaw flexed. “What aren’t you telling me?”
Christian could feel the air change. Like a shift in barometric pressure before a storm. The blackmail sat like a lead weight in his chest as it was the perfect evidence against Amka. Brock was the sheriff, and that meant lines had to stay in place. Christian would protect his brother. “Nothing.”
Brock’s tone dropped, low and sharp as a blade. “I swear to God. You’re going back to this again? We’ve done the secrets-before-trust routine, remember that? You want another year of radio silence between us? You want to lose this again?”
Christian’s jaw flexed, a muscle twitching near his temple. That hit where it was supposed to. Direct and deep. Last year, when everything between them had fractured—when pride, grief, and too much silence had built a wall none of them could break down—that had nearly ended everything. Four brothers who loved each other but couldn’t look each other in the eye.
They’d all thought one of them had helped Hank die. And no one had talked about it. They’d let silence rot what should’ve been unbreakable. They’d been wrong, and it had taken too long to fix it.
Brock didn’t let up. “Tell me the truth. All of it. You owe me that.”
Christian exhaled through his nose and looked up, a headache forming at the base of his skull. He wouldn’t go distant with any of his brothers ever again. “Jarod was blackmailing Amka.”
Brock gave one sharp shake of his head. “Blackmailing Amka? Come on. She’s never done a thing wrong in her entire life. What in the world could Jarod have on her?”
Christian glanced toward the sheriff’s station, then back at his brother. “For what happened to Hank.”
The tension snapped between them like a cable pulled too tight. Brock straightened. “Flossy shot Hank.”
Christian’s chest hurt at the thought. “Amka was there. She helped Flossy steady the gun. I guess she found them on the way to work, and Flossy couldn’t do it alone.”
Brock’s face went pale. His lips parted, but nothing came out. He took a step back.
“He fell into the river after. They didn’t mean for him to even get wet. The entire situation happened fast, and they weren’t prepared. But who would be? Apparently, Jarod caught them. Somehow. Recorded the entire thing.”
Brock’s eyes darkened. “He had a video of Hank dying?”
Christian’s throat tightened. “Yeah. Jarod took it and used it against her. Forced her into the engagement. Said he wanted to be respectable. That’s a lie. He wanted her, and I could see it. I think he would’ve tried to force her into an actual marriage.”
Brock stared at the asphalt, breathing hard. “I can’t believe this.”
The wind kicked up again. Something banged in the alley behind them that sounded like loose metal, maybe a trash lid. Christian didn’t turn to look.