15. Colt

15

COLT

I could feel the fury coming off Grady in waves. But that rage only stoked the anger reaching a boiling point in me. I’d seen his fuse catch from across the park, watched as he stalked toward Ridley, looming over her. It flipped something inside me, igniting a protectiveness that made no damn sense.

“She’s interviewing me,” Grady spat. “What? Now I’m not allowed to speak my mind? That’s protected under the First Amendment.”

“Not when those words are threats,” I ground out.

He grabbed at the small microphone clipped to his T-shirt and tossed it on the ground. “I don’t need this shit.” His gaze snapped to Ridley. “You try to bury me, and I’ll come for you. That’s a promise,” he said, stalking away.

Fucking hell.

I turned slowly, trying to keep my temper in check but struggling.

Ridley stared after him, no fear in her expression, only curiosity. As if she were trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together.

“What were you thinking?” I ground out.

Ridley’s gaze flew to me, eyes widening. “You’re blaming that on me?”

“You were the one asking the questions. Stirring up trouble.”

Her jaw hardened, chin tipping up. “Searching for the truth isn’t stirring up trouble.”

That’s where she was wrong. “What would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here, huh?” I pressed.

“He would’ve tried to touch me, and I would’ve tased his ass before he could blink.” Ridley pulled a small pink Taser out of her pocket. It looked more like a flashlight than a device that could bring a man to his knees.

“What you’re doing is reckless. You think there aren’t consequences to this sort of thing. And it’s more than just you who’s affected. Grady might be an ass, but his life got turned upside down just as much as the next guy. You think that suggesting he could be guilty on a podcast won’t do him a tremendous amount of harm?”

Ridley blinked up at me, something shifting in those blue eyes. “You don’t think he did it.”

I didn’t want to give her a damned thing. Not now. I sent a pointed look to the microphone pinned to her shirt.

Ridley sighed and pulled out her phone. She made a grand gesture of unlocking the device and stopping the recording.

“No. I’ve looked at him hard,” I began. “But there’s no sign of him doing anything other than working, drinking, and sleeping with any woman dumb enough to take him on.”

Her shoulders slumped. “Knew he was too obvious.”

I frowned down at her, brows pulled together.

Ridley glanced back at the tennis courts, as if she saw people playing there now even though there was no one. “Whoever this is, they’ve stayed under the radar for a decade. That means they blend in.”

The wind picked up, lifting those strands of blond and carrying with them that burnt-orange scent. I hated to admit, even to myself, that she had good instincts. The kind that came from years on the job in law enforcement.

And I guessed she had been, in a way, working her own sort of cases. I’d spent hours that day looking into that damned podcast of hers and all the social media accounts that went with it.

She'd had some successes for sure, but when I’d called a detective in Iowa to get his take on her since she’d covered a case he’d led, he hadn’t had good things to say. He’d used words like interfering , bulldog , and nothing but trouble .

“Maybe, maybe not,” I said, voice going rough. “But you could start a chain of dominos you’re not ready to tip. And more than that, you could get yourself hurt or killed. What if Grady was the guy? You think he wouldn’t do everything in his power to stop you from making that public?”

Anger flashed in those blue depths. “I know how to be careful. How to take care of myself.”

“Sittin’ up at that campsite all alone in a goddamned van? That’s not safe on a good day.” I hated the way my gut churned at the thought. How I could suddenly picture a million and one ways for that to go wrong.

“News flash, Law Man. Life isn’t safe. Someone could hurt you crossing a busy street in broad daylight. We can’t protect ourselves from everything.”

There was something there. An underlying reason to those words that had my eyes narrowing. “Someone hurt you?” The flash of rage that bubbled up at the thought took me completely by surprise, and I struggled to swallow it down.

Ridley bent, picking up the mic that Grady had thrown and shoving it into her backpack along with her own. “It wouldn’t be any of your business if they had.”

And with that, she stalked off toward the parking lot and that damned bike of hers. I squinted as she approached it. Even that was pure sunshine. Glittery teal paint and a fucking unicorn bell. Jesus.

I swung open the door to The Barrel, and the music wafted out into the cool evening air. It wasn’t horribly loud, but it wasn’t soft either. That perfect midrange for a bar. The space was about half-full, a decent turnout for earlyish on a weeknight. I greeted familiar faces with chin lifts and hellos but didn’t stop to welcome any conversation. Instead, I went straight for the bar.

The moment my ass was on a stool, Trey was in front of me and reaching for my favorite bottle of Ransom. “I’m taking it it’s a whiskey night.”

I simply grunted in response.

“You want some food with that?”

“Burger,” I returned.

Trey poured the Ransom whiskey into a rocks glass. “Your piss-poor mood is worse than usual. I’m guessing that has something to do with a five-foot-seven stunner who’s getting in your way at every turn?”

I scowled at my lifelong friend. “She’s going to get herself killed.”

That had Trey pulling up short, concern washing over his features. “What are you talking about?”

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Found her interviewing Grady. Pushing all his buttons until he looked ready to throttle her.”

“Hell,” Trey muttered. “There’s a reason I eighty-sixed his ass. She needs to be careful who she’s messing with.”

My eyes narrowed as something that felt a whole lot like jealousy settled low in my gut. “What do you care?”

Trey’s brows lifted. “Have you seriously become that much of an ass that you’d want that girl to end up getting hurt or worse?”

I struggled not to shift on my stool. No, I didn’t want Ridley hurt. Just the idea of it had me wanting to ride out to her campsite to check on her, even though she wasn’t the one I needed to be concerned about.

That thought had me pulling up short and glancing back at Trey. Usually he was just as protective of Emerson as I was. The images of her hurt and terrified were burned into him, leaving scars in their wake. But here he was taking up for Ridley.

“What happened?” I demanded.

Trey’s jaw tensed. “She’s not what you think she is.”

“And what do I think she is?” I gritted out.

Trey pinned me with a hard stare. “I’m pretty sure the words you used were a fame-hungry money grubber .”

I winced. I’d been pissed after Ridley had shown at Emerson’s house. The house we’d grown up in. The one place she should’ve been safe. “Still might be true.” But even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t. The one episode of Sounds Like Serial I’d listened to had been more than careful. Ridley had interviewed the parents of a twenty-four-year-old woman who’d been murdered, and the tenderness she’d had in her approach told me she cared.

Trey was silent, still staring at me. But now it was as if he didn’t know me at all. “You need to pull your head out of your ass.”

I blinked back at him. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve given you a pass the last few years because I know that what happened to Emmie marked you. But you’re going to push everyone in your life away if you keep pulling this shit.”

Each word was like a carefully placed blow designed to inflict maximum damage. “And what shit is that?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Looking at everyone with suspicion. Assuming their intentions are the worst instead of wondering if they’re simply human. Guess what, Colt. No one’s perfect. Not even you.”

I reared back at that. “I sure as hell know I’m not perfect.”

Trey gripped the edge of the bar, his knuckles bleaching white. “Then maybe you need to give yourself some grace too. Because if you stay on this track, you’re going to end up completely alone.”

I stared back at him for a long moment, not saying a word.

“And just so you know,” Trey went on. “Ridley has her reasons for doing this. If you would’ve taken a breath and asked, I bet she would’ve told you. Her twin sister disappeared the night before their college graduation.”

I'd thought Trey’s earlier words had packed a punch, but they had nothing on this. Ridley had a sister. A twin. And she’d gone missing.

“Took me a while to find the case since she doesn’t go by that last name publicly, but I finally did,” Trey said. “They know it was foul play. Her sister’s blood was found at the scene—a scene Ridley found. Police looked for months. No leads. Ridley’s living every single day wondering where her sister is. But she didn’t let that make her bitter. She channeled that hurt into helping others. And if you had pulled your head out, you might’ve seen that she’s actually trying to help you and Emmie both.”

Blood roared in my ears. The pounding beat of my pulse in my throat held accusation. But I didn’t try to shove any of it down.

She didn’t let that make her bitter. Trey’s words circled my brain over and over because I heard what was beneath them. I had let what happened to Em make me bitter. I’d let it harden me. And I’d hurt people because of it. Not just Ridley, but Trey and Emerson too.

I let out a long breath, the air hissing between my teeth. “How long you been wanting to say that?”

Trey let out a huff that was almost a laugh. “Just the last five years or so.”

I met his gaze dead-on. “Next time don’t wait so long.”

“You were messed up?—”

“Doesn’t matter. I need my best fucking friend to call me on my shit.” I stood, shoving my stool back.

“Noted. I’ll ream your ass next time.”

“Good. Give my drink to Barney.”

“Where are you going?” Trey called as I headed for the door.

“Where do you think?”

Trey chuckled. “I hope she doesn’t knee you in the balls.”

I’d deserve it if she did. I wouldn’t even try to block the hit. The moment I stepped outside, I sucked in the fresh air. Even downtown, the pine scent still clung to the air. It had always been one of my favorite things about living in Shady Cove.

The sun still peeked out over the mountains as I headed for my SUV. Beeping the locks, I climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. The drive to Ridley’s campsite wasn’t long, but my brain played back every cruel thing I’d said to her on repeat.

Fuck, I was a bastard.

I didn’t have the first clue how to make this right, but I was sure as hell going to try. My SUV took the mountain road curves with ease. Three of the five campsites were filled now. One with a nicer RV, another with that same tent and now a Subaru that had seen better days, and finally that ridiculous teal camper van.

I looked at the vehicle with new eyes now though. The bumper stickers on the back marking a life lived without her sister. The bright colors a search for light in a world that could be as dark as pitch.

Parking my SUV, I shut off the engine and climbed out. And that’s when I heard the singing. The notes hit me square in the chest. It wasn’t that her voice was perfect; in fact, part of the charm was that it wasn’t. Those imperfections didn’t stop Ridley from singing full-out.

I didn’t recognize the tune, but that didn’t dull its impact. Her voice was sultry and smoky. With a rasp that had every nerve ending in my body standing at attention.

There wasn’t a damned thing I could’ve done to hold back from the pull of it. Like a siren’s song, it had me rounding the van in search of the source. If I’d been at sea, I would’ve easily crashed my ship on the rocks to get to it.

But I’d been so distracted by Ridley’s singing, I hadn’t picked up on the sound of water. Like falling rain. Only it wasn’t coming from the sky.

As I reached the other side of the van, it took me a second to figure out what I was seeing. There was some sort of contraption sticking off the side of the vehicle. It held up a curtain covered in some sort of rainbow design and a showerhead. A breeze picked up and the curtain parted just a few inches.

But those inches would be burned into my brain for the rest of time. The curve of Ridley’s waist, leading to her hip. Smooth golden skin I wanted to trace with my tongue. She turned slightly, exposing the hint of the underswell of her breast.

A single flickering glimpse and I was sunk. Everything in me responded. Wanted nothing more than to yank that curtain back and step in with her. There was just one problem.

Ridley hated me. And with good reason.

I was so fucked.