Sometimes It Takes an Entire Town

Ian’s hand agitated through his hair, knee vibrating up and down. A rosary sat unmoving between his fingertips. No more prayers left his lips as he stared at the slow rise and fall of Danny’s chest.

He’d almost lost him.

“Claire.” Danny shot up in bed.

“Hey.” Ian eased him back. “It’s okay. You’re alright.”

Danny’s eyes darted around the room, and he groaned, holding his stomach. “Where am I?”

“You’re at the medical center, Danny.” He coughed, trying to clear the emotions out of his throat. “But you’re okay.”

“My God, my head. What happened to me?”

“Sip this.” Ian handed him a glass of water before hesitating. “Do you remember anything?”

“Yeah. No ... maybe?” He blinked hard and held his head. “I remember writing out a note before ... I don’t know, did I fall asleep?”

Ian slowly blinked. “No,” he whispered.

Danny didn’t hear him and now held both his head and stomach with another groan. “What the hell is going on? I keep having these weird flashes in my head.”

“Like dreams?”

“Maybe?” Danny rubbed his temples. “Wait. Why am I here?” He patted himself down. “Did something happen to me? Or Claire? Is Claire hurt?”

“She’s okay.” At least Ian hoped she was hunkered down in her cottage. “Tell me about your dream flashes.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Just humor me.”

“I’m not telling you my damn dreams, Ian.”

Ian scuffed his snow boots along the pale-yellow linoleum. He’d hoped that the most he’d have to do when Danny woke was keep him calm and work through what happened. But this? How the hell was he supposed to broach this subject if he didn’t remember anything? He took a deep breath. Maybe if he started with something, Danny could fill in the blanks.

“Did you dream you were making love to Claire?”

Danny froze. “Why would you ask me that?”

Ian lowered his head. “I wouldn’t ask if there wasn’t a good reason.”

“Yeah? And what reason is that?”

He slowly met his eyes. “I’m not judging you, Danny.” His phone buzzed with a text from Fin. Now the damn thing decided to work?

SHE ISN’T AT HER COTTAGE. IS THERE ANYWHERE ELSE SHE MIGHT BE?

He’d sent him out to find Claire. With an explanation, maybe she’d be here to patch things up so he could stop asking his best friend super awkward and uncomfortable questions. He sent a desperate text back. PLEASE KEEP LOOKING. TALK TO GERTY, THEY HANG OUT SOMETIMES.

“You look pale,” Danny said. “Did you get another message from Molly?”

“No.” Ian pulled both hands down his face. He didn’t want to have this conversation. He’d even give up his precious Scottish heritage to avoid having this conversation. But if they didn’t find Claire, and Danny found out why she ran away and that he’d kept it from him? It’d break every friend trust they had.

“You weren’t dreaming,” he blurted.

Danny blinked fast. “Come again?”

“Don’t make me repeat it.”

“You’re gonna have to.”

Ian sighed. “If you dreamed what I think you did, well, it wasn’t a dream.” Danny’s face twisted, and Ian scuffed his boot along the floor again. “You were drugged, Danny. What happened wasn’t your fault.”

“Drugged? How? Wait, you’re saying I didn’t dream that Claire and I—” Ian watched in dreaded silence as Danny’s foggy mind began to clear. “It was real?”

Ian lowered his head again and nodded.

“I still don’t understand. Who drugged me?”

Ian swallowed hard, staring down at the floor. His knee vibrated up and down.

“Answer me.”

He slowly looked up and a knot formed in his throat. The answer was already sitting in Danny’s eyes. Teetering between horror and hope, he silently begged Ian to tell him it wasn’t true.

“I only know one person who keeps a stash of drugs.” Danny’s voice was just above a whisper. “But even she wouldn’t go this far. She wouldn’t ... she wouldn’t drug me.”

“And yet she did.”

“Why would she—”

Ian saw the moment it all crashed in on his best friend. The whoosh of air emptying from his lungs. The color draining from his face.

“Danny? Danny, look at me.”

Danny’s heavy breathing increased.

“It wasn’t your fault. Do you hear me? You were out of your mind, and she was dressed like Claire.”

Danny went completely still. “It wasn’t Claire?”

Ian realized he hadn’t put that particular piece together yet and wanted to swallow his own tongue. “No,” he sucked in a deep breath, “it was her.”

“No,” Danny said slowly.

“Don’t worry, I got there before she forced you to—”

“No,” he said again. “It wasn’t ... I wouldn’t ... ” His teeth clamped together so hard Ian winced. Danny tore off his covers and ripped out his IV.

“Stop.” Ian grappled with him. “It’s okay, you didn’t go through with it.”

“It’s not okay.” He twisted out of his grip and stood on unsteady legs. “I touched her, Ian. Oh, my God,” he dry-heaved and covered his mouth, “I touched her and ... and God, Claire. Where is she? I have to see her. I have to talk to her.” His eyes stalled on the closed door of his room. He swayed and latched onto the bedrail. “Ian,” he whispered. “Tell me the other memory I’m having right now was a dream. Tell me,” his eyes squeezed shut, “Claire didn’t walk in on me when I was ... ” He couldn’t say it, dry-heaving again, and Ian couldn’t answer.

“Please, sit down, bràthair.”

Danny shoved him away.

“Dammit, Danny, you’re bleeding.” He snatched some gauze out of a cabinet and blotted where he’d torn out the IV. “Listen to me. I know what you’re thinking. But you didn’t cheat on Claire. You’re a victim.”

Danny’s bloodshot eyes met Ian’s, and his voice cracked. “Does she know that? Does the woman I promised I’d never hurt—who trusted me without question—does she know that?”

“What’s with all the yelling in here?” Annie walked in and gasped. “Daniel Larsson, get back in that bed. Do you know how close you came to dying?”

Old Governor’s loud gong clanged outside, and Annie closed her eyes with a slow, deep inhale. “I’m going to kill Clark.” The gonging continued as she gathered medical supplies and an emergency kit. Rushing out of the room, she yelled, “Ian, get him in that bed.”

He didn’t hear her over Danny’s slew of bellowing curses. “It’s just a coincidence, bràthair. Look at me, Claire’s fine. The bell has nothing to do with her.”

Emelie burst through the door, heaving for air. “Danny, you’re awake, thank God.”

“Who rang the bell?” Ian said.

“Fin. Officer Murphy is already with him, and Danny? Jake Matthews sent an emergency message for Claire because,” she swallowed and moved to his side, licking her chapped lips, “Henderson is here.”

“Here?” he and Ian said together.

She touched his arm, and her bottom lip began to vibrate. “There were gunshots, Danny. Fin heard gunshots near Claire’s cottage, but he can’t find her.”

Danny barely heard Emelie and Ian calling for him to wait as he stagger-clomped down the hall in untied boots. His face lost all feeling. His heart slammed in erratic beats.

Gunshots. There were gunshots.

“She’s going to be okay.” Ian caught up to him, handing him a coat.

“She has to be.” Emelie pressed a hat into his hands.

Gunshots.

Annie came through the front door in a gust of wind, stopping when she saw Danny. “Guess there’s no talking you out of going is there?” She sighed and patted his arm. “Merv’s got the emergency kit, and I helped George get Gus hooked up to the medical sleigh. It’ll be ready to go in a few. And, Danny?” He paused with his hand on the front door but didn’t turn. “I’ll be praying.”

He nodded once and shoved out the door. Gripping the frozen rail, he slipped and swayed down the steps to the organized chaos of Solsken during an emergency. Voices dampened by the snow called out orders. While groups of volunteers gathered around Officer Murphy as he and other officers handed out flashlights, flares, and radios.

These people and friends Danny had known his whole life became a blur behind actual memories, not dreams, flashing in his mind. Her frightened voice. Claire had yelled his name, and he’d answered her with reassuring kisses. But the skin he’d felt on his mouth, the warm body in his hands—not Claire. His stomach convulsed, and he gripped over it. It was never Claire.

“Danny, where are you going?” Ian’s voice came over the rush of wind, but he didn’t stop. His heavy, unsteady steps headed right for Fin’s running snowmobile parked near Old Governor. He threw a leg over.

“Wait for the sleigh,” Ian yelled. “You’re in no condition to drive.”

Danny squeezed the throttle, leaving him behind. Leaving everyone behind. At full speed, he let the icy snow numb his face, his body. But he couldn’t numb the new memory now seated in his mind. The one of Claire begging him to stop, to look at her, followed by a heart-shattering sob.

Cursing the entire way back to the sleigh, Ian slowed when he saw Fin puffing toward him. He took a moment to look over his shivering form, his wind burned cheeks. “Finlay, maybe you should stay here and warm up.”

Fin’s eyes shot up, and the redness around his irises made the green pierce through. “I’m going.” Without another word, he swung his long legs into the back of the sleigh and slid in tight against Emelie, making room for Ian.

“Follow my snowmobile,” Fin said.

Ian studied his cousin’s stony face as George took the reins with a snap. “Thank you.”

He grunted. “What for?”

“You’ve been out here for nearly two hours looking for her.”

“But I missed it, didn’t I?” His jaw pulsed. “Somehow, I missed seeing some psycho stalker that might’ve killed her.” He held up both hands when Ian opened to respond. “I screwed up just like everything else in my life. And you know what? If we find her and she ... ” He fisted both hands. “And she’s not okay. I’m leaving this damn island.”

The sleigh slowed down in front of Claire’s cottage, and Fin squeezed past a wide-eyed Emelie and jumped down. Hunching toward the wind, he stalked toward Danny, who was frantically yanking on a padlock.

“Footprints on the east side.” George pointed.

“You can see that?”

“Merv, I told you, I don’t need no damn new glasses.”

Ian whistled, signaling to Fin and Danny, and the group fanned out in a line. Close enough to see each other, but enough of a distance to cover an area without missing anything. The way the harsh island winters had taught them to do.

“Found a phone.” Merv pulled it out of the snow.

“That’s hers.” Danny snatched it and brushed wet crystals from a black screen. It wouldn’t turn on. “Did she try to call—” He smacked the screen, yelling, “Claire.”

“More prints over here.” George pointed out two separate prints. One large set, straight and steady, another smaller set, sporadic and disjointed. Danny shouted her name again and stumble-ran toward them.

Ian followed close behind him, wincing when Danny fell face first and staggered to a stand. The man wasn’t just born on this island. His usual ease with the elements was the island itself weaved into his very makeup. But when Ian got closer and saw him shivering, wheezing for each breath, he wasn’t sure if it was because of his recent brush with death, or the dying he was doing on the inside.

Coming up beside him, Ian took his arm, steadying him. “I’m here,” is all he said. All he could give.

The first tear he’d ever seen from his best friend rolled down his cheek, quickly followed by another. Not when he broke his arm as a kid, not even with everything Jessica had done, did Danny cry. But these tears, like tiny fissures against the pressure of a dam, broke him wide open.

“Please,” he yelled on a loud sob, eyes darting all over the snow. “Please, I’ll do anything, anything.”

Ian tightened his grip and rubbed the tightness in his chest. That sound Danny made matched an echo in his memory. The sound of a little boy after his mother left, pleading with the father who raised a hand to him.

A long howl followed by yipping barks broke Ian’s dark thoughts. Gunner hopped over snow drifts in front of Gerty, who waved at them with her shotgun. Without stopping to greet any of them, Gunner bounded past straight for the cliff’s edge.

“No, no, no.” Danny took off after the animal.

“Spread out,” George bellowed. “Don’t lose sight of him.”

Gunner stopped to sniff some snow. Letting out a long howl, he yipped once before jumping clear off the cliff’s edge.

“Claire!” Danny lunged forward.

Ian caught him, yanking back. “No, Danny.”

“She’s down there.”

“And we need a plan to get her, not go over blind. You know this.”

Danny’s middle trembled beneath his arms. “The last thing she saw, Ian ... was me ... with her.”

Ian got in his face. “Don’t do this, Danny. Don’t you dare do this to yourself.”

“I love her.” His voice cracked. “God, I love her, and she doesn’t know. I didn’t say it.”

“I know.” Ian pulled him in. “I know, bràthair.”

Emelie screamed, and they all whipped around to see her pointing to the snow where Gunner had sniffed, hand cupped over her mouth. Ian got there first, and when he saw a bright-red circle with a long trail leading directly to the cliff, he whirled, hands bulldozing into Danny’s chest.

“Don’t.” But it was too late.

A cry roared out of him before Danny’s eyes rolled back into his head. He crashed down, the weight of him swallowing him inside the snow.

Merv and George rushed to help Ian lift his face out of the snow, turning him to his back.

“Danny,” Emelie cried as she sank into the snow, bringing his head to her lap. “I’m so sorry, so sorry.” She brushed snow off his cheeks.

“Claire,” he groaned, eyes fluttering.

Ian slowly kneeled, helping Danny sit up, his watering eyes locked on the blood trail. She can’t be gone.

“What’s wrong with everybody?” Fin said. “We don’t know shit yet.”

Ian swiped an arm over his eyes to see his cousin coming back from the sleigh with a rope. “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He wrapped and looped the rope around his legs as a harness.

“It looks like you think you can go down these cliffs.”

He yanked hard on a knot. “I’ve rappelled down them before.”

“Not here, you haven’t. Only Clark is experienced enough to go down the steepest point of the island.”

“Clark isn’t here,” he yelled. “And we don’t know if she ... we can’t just ... we can’t, Ian.” He took a deep breath. “Look, if Gunner can go down, there’s a way down.” He cinched the final knot and looked around at everyone. “Well? Is someone going to help me, or do I have to do this myself?”

Ian stared. Shock slowly melting away to pride. His young cousin finally stepping up like the man he always knew he could be. Drying his eyes, Ian pulled Fin in for a quick, firm hug.

“How are we getting him down safely?” Ian double checked the knots on his harness.

“This rock will make a great anchor.” George began wrapping the end around it.

“Hang in there, Danny,” Emelie whispered, hugging him. “They’re going to get her.”

“Has anyone seen Gerty?” Merv asked.

“Over here,” she called from a few yards away, peering carefully over the edge. “I’ve got my eye on Gunner. He’ll signal if he finds something.” As if he heard her say it, a long, screeching howl drifted up from below. “Over there.” She pointed to her right.

“Ian, help me hold the rope,” George said. “Fin, get ready to go over.”

“Wait.” Flashing lights from a snowmobile reflected off the snow, soon followed by a tall man in uniform. “McClellan?”

“Which one?” Ian called.

“Whichever one of you sanctioned a search without a radio.”

Ian had no idea who was to blame for that but raised his arm, showing Officer Murphy where they were located. “We may have found her. Fin’s heading down.”

Tom trudged forward and attached a radio to Fin’s belt. “How the hell were you going to communicate with anyone up here?”

“A few tugs on the rope?”

Tom sighed and helped steady him as Fin prepared to rappel backward.

“Finney?” Emelie’s voice shook. Fin met and held her eyes. “Be careful.”

With a quick nod, he began his descent.

“I want every detail you’ve all kept from me, right now.” Tom moved next to Danny, helping him stand.

One by one they filled him in, starting with Emelie mentioning Jessica being tied up in Danny’s office. Before he could follow up with questions, Fin’s voice scratched over the radio.

“I need more slack. There’s a flat ledge down here and I think ... ” They quickly gave it to him. “Yes, I see her.”

As if the next thing out of Fin’s mouth would shatter the universe, Danny went still, covering his mouth.

“There’s a pulse. Quick, send down the stretcher.”

Danny let out a loud cry, and Emelie pulled him into her arms, weeping. Tom disappeared and returned carrying a stretcher with attached ropes.

“Ian, go help them.” Emelie dried her face and took his place with George on Fin’s rope. Merv, Ian, Tom, and Danny began lowering the stretcher.

“She’s secure,” Fin said. “Bring her up.”

“Come on, Gunner.” Gerty gave a series of loud whistles and wiped her eyes. “You did it, boy. Come on up. I got a nice steak waitin’ for you at home.” She whistled again.

Hand over hand, the four men drew on the ropes while George and Emelie worked to bring in the slack of Fin’s rope.

“Is it supposed to be this loose?” Emelie asked when they picked up speed to keep up with the increased slack.

“Maybe he’s faster coming up than going down?”

Claire’s stretched-out body appeared over the edge and a mix between a yell and a cry burst from Danny. He dropped beside her.

“My God, her face.” His shaking hands gingerly lowered her scarf and brushed her bloodied, split lip and bruised jaw.

“Give me a little space, Danny. I need to check her.” Merv moved in with the medical kit while Tom held up a flashlight, and Ian held up a blanket, blocking the wind. “Pulse is slow but steady. Abrasions look superficial,” Merv said. “Ankle may be broken, though, but there are no gunshot wounds. The blood wasn’t hers.” There was a collective sigh of relief. “We need to get her out of the cold and back to the medical center as soon as possible, especially for this.” He lifted her gloveless hand.

“Shit.” Danny took it carefully between both of his and blew heat on it. “This is her writing hand.”

Ian noticed Emelie slowly reaching down to touch a familiar looking harness secured around Claire. He cursed, handing off his blanket to George just as she whispered, “Finney?”

They both rushed to the cliff’s edge shouting for him.

“I don’t see him,” Emelie shrieked.

Tom lifted his radio. “You still with us, McClellan?” He was answered by static. “Fin, do you copy?” More static.

“Finlay,” Ian and Emelie yelled together.

“You know, it’s a bit hard to answer a radio when you’ve got no free hands.” Fin grunted as he clung to the top of the edge. “Gunner made this look so easy.”

“Damn, Finlay.” Ian laughed as he and Tom took him by the arms and lifted him.

“Why would you do that?” Emelie smacked his chest, and he stumbled back. “Why the hell would you do that, Fin? You could’ve fallen.”

“I was afraid the stretcher might catch on something, and she’d tip over.” He caught her hands mid-slap. “Wait, did you just call me Fin?” She went still. “Were you worried about me or something?”

“No.” She wrapped her arms tight around her middle and twisted away from him, stomping back toward Claire.

“I don’t understand,” he said to Ian. “Did that mean something?”

“It sure as hell didn’t mean nothing.” Ian gave his shoulder a small squeeze.

“Ian, Fin,” Merv called. “Help us carry her to the sleigh.”

With Claire bundled and secured, George got Gus going again with a crack of the reins. Ian’s hand idly rubbed over his stomach as the runners cut through the thick snow. The quiet was only broken by Danny’s whispers. He hovered over Claire, eyelashes damp, warming her hand with his repeated words, “Forgive me, love. God, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

The skin of her hand was clammy. His breath insufficient. Danny’s eyes squeezed shut. How long?How long? It felt like hours, years before the sleigh glided up to the Medical Center. Annie was already outside with a shell-shocked Clark holding a steaming mug in his hand.

“Take her into room three,” she said. “Danny, I want you back in your room to rest.”

“No.” He kept Claire’s hand as they carried her in.

“Daniel Larsson—”

“Annabelle.” Clark touched her cheek. “It’s alright. We may need him.” He followed the men carrying Claire, directing. “Heating pads and electric blankets are through that door there. Annabelle, buckets of warm water for her hand.”

“Will she lose her fingers?” Danny’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“Too early to tell.” Clark took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry, Danny. Gene and I were celebrating my dive win and—”

“Just help her, please.”

With a nod, Clark switched to what he did best. “We need to get her temperature up as quick as possible. Danny, body heat will help.”

His shirt was halfway up when Claire moaned, “Greyson.”

“Hey, love.” Danny cupped carefully over her bruised jaw. “Don’t worry, I’ll call him.”

She sucked in a breath, eyes blinking open. He saw the moment she remembered. The tremor of realization iced over her body, cinching her muscles into cold rigidity.

“Claire,” his voice shook, “it’s alright.”

“Get away from me.”

“Sweetheart, you nearly froze to death. I need to help warm you.”

“I said, get away from me. Greyson?”

“Keep her still,” Clark ordered, cutting the boot from her swollen ankle.

Danny took hold of her shoulders with firm but gentle hands.

“Don’t touch me.” She thrashed and he recoiled.

Those words. The same ones she used for Henderson paralyzed him.

“Merv, take over,” Clark said. “Danny, maybe step out until we calm her.”

A phone on the wall rang, startling Danny into forward motion. He tripped over a chair, and sprawled to the floor. His eyes locked onto Claire’s swimming gaze.

“Go. Away.”

His wet boots squeaked as he rushed out, hands fisting his hair.

“Hey, hey. She’s just upset.” Ian came up beside him. “Give it some time, alright? Then try to talk to her.”

Danny pressed two fingers into his eyes, shaking his head. If he answered, he’d lose the last of his control.

“Ian, Danny?” Annie called from Claire’s door. “Do either of you know a Jake Matthews? He keeps calling and insisting on talking to Claire. I didn’t tell him anything, but—”

“I’ll talk to him,” Danny said.

“Line two.” She pointed to a phone in the hallway and gently patted his back.

Danny jammed a finger on line two and said, “If she loses her hand, I’ll kill you.”

“Uh, hello? Who’s this?”

“Why the hell aren’t you here? Huh? Sitting there in your fancy home with your goddamn billions, and you can’t keep one man, one man, from shoving her off a cliff?”

Ian tore the phone out of his hand, covering the mouthpiece with a quick shake of his head.

“Give it back.”

“Take a walk.”

He shoved fingers back into his hair with a growl and paced. Ian took a deep breath, knowing that’s as good of a walk as he was going to get and pressed the speaker button. “Jake Matthews, this is Ian McClellan, Danny Larsson’s manager at Flygande.”

“Ah, so that lovely gentleman ripping me a new asshole must’ve been Danny then.”

“He’s a bit upset, as we all are. And frankly, I’d like some answers to his questions too.”

“Is Madelynn alright?”

Danny took one heavy step, but Ian eased him back, answering, “She’s alive. But it’s too soon to know how bad her injuries are. Now, how about you answer our questions? Starting with, how did this happen?”

Jake let out a long breath. “A few hours ago, my head of security caught a glitch in our system. A message sent to replay every day to Madelynn’s phone.”

“You mean the daily safety message she depended on, you useless prick?”

“Danny,” Ian warned.

“Unfortunately, Mr. Larsson, finding who was behind this wasn’t as easy as you think. Nor is messing with my security program.”

The same security program he advertised as unhackable? Danny’s hands fisted.

“But that’s beside the point,” Jake continued. “By the time we did find out,” he sighed, “well, you know the rest. The bastard also stole prototypes of mine and gave them to Henderson. Apparently, it doesn’t matter how well you pay someone, everyone has their price. And my guy’s price was a hefty gambling debt that Henderson took care of. I assure you, all my available resources are working nonstop to fix this, and my entire compromised, international security team has been,” there was a slam followed by Jake hissing a curse before he spoke in a barely controlled voice, “handled.” After a long beat of silence, he continued, “None of that is why I called, though. I needed to know she’s okay. You mentioned her hand?”

Danny’s jaw welded shut, so Ian answered. “Her right hand was exposed. We’re not sure how bad the frostbite is yet.”

“Dammit, she needs that hand. Did you know she hand writes all her novels?”

Danny’s molars ground together over his familiarity with her. Because, unlike Claire when they first met, he knew all about Jake Matthews. Mr. Playboy with his perfectly chiseled face plastered over every business and social magazine. It’s hard to forget the youngest man to become a billionaire. The boy genius, who made his fortune overnight when he sold his online security software, had also grown up to repeatedly hit number one on every Sexiest Man Alive chart.

Ian’s calming squeeze on his shoulder eased Danny back down.

“How’s her son holding up?” Jake asked.

“Her son?” Ian said. “Wouldn’t know. He isn’t here.”

“Hang on.” Papers rustled in the background. “The reports I printed out said Greyson’s phone tracker was located at the northeastern most point of the island only an hour ago.”

“Northeastern.” Ian and Danny both looked at each other.

“Officer Murphy?” Danny yelled, running down the hall.

“Wait.” Ian caught his arm. “You need to rest. I’ll go.”

“I can’t just stand here,” his eyes darted toward Claire’s door, “and do nothing.”

Tom poked his head out of Claire’s room. “You called me, Larsson?”

Danny glanced at Ian’s grip.

“Okay,” Ian said, releasing him.

“Tom, I need you to find a pair of bolt cutters and meet me at Claire’s cottage.” Danny paused outside Claire’s door and laid a hand against it.

“Go on,” Ian said. “I’ll stay with her.”

“Greyson?” Danny pounded on Claire’s cottage door as Tom grunted and squeezed the cutters into the lock. “It’s Danny Larsson and Officer Murphy. Are you in there?” A distant thump came from inside, followed by another. “I hear something.”

The lock snapped and Danny threw open the door. “Greyson?”

Another bump came, followed this time by muffled screaming from Claire’s bathroom.

“Greys—” Inside he froze. Claire’s duplicated tea-colored eyes looked up at him, red-rimmed below an oozing gash on his forehead. Hands and feet bound, mouth gagged between blue lips, Greyson shivered in a tub full of water.

“Holy shit.” Danny rushed to him, heaving him out, and they both collapsed, bodies and soaked clothes slapping against the floor. “Tom, find blankets. Hey, shh, you’re okay. I got you.” He carefully untied his bonds, and removed the gag, wincing at the blooming blisters and the raw rope marks on his skin. “Let me look at you.”

“No.” Greyson pulled away, coughed, and sputtered as his body violently shook to stay warm. “I need to find m-m-my mom.”

“She’s being taken care of at the medical center.”

His blue lips vibrated. “She’s alive? B-but I heard a gun.”

Danny let out a deep breath. “I think she might’ve shot the bastard.”

The boy covered his face, and a low cry strangled out of him.

“Hey, hey.” Danny clasped both sides of his head. “No, it’s okay. Greyson, look at me.”

“It’s not okay. I t-told her she meant nothing. I’m so stupid. I believed every damn thing Henderson told me, that she didn’t want me. And—And I wanted to hurt her for it. But not like ... not like ... ” His shoulders shook. “God, sh-she’ll never forgive me.”

“Listen to me, even with everything you said to her,” Danny wrapped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him in, rubbing warmth into his clammy skin, “your mother loves you. Hell, before I came here, she was asking for you.”

He slowly straightened. “For me?”

“Yes.” Danny wrapped the blankets Tom brought around the boy and continued to rub his arms. “And as soon as we get you out of these wet clothes, I’ll take you to her.”

“Bu-but I stole your phone and ... ” He blinked, shaking his head hard. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“A phone I can replace, and I’ve been called worse insults than ‘sponger.’” Danny slowly smiled. “Besides, if my mom started dating some wannabe Viking with thrift store decor, I’d give him hell too.”

“Mom?” Greyson called as Danny and Tom walked him into the medical center. “Mom.”

“Greyson?” Claire’s voice came from her room.

He stumbled forward. “Mom.”

“My baby. Let me go. I need to see him.” Her voice reached shrieking levels.

Danny and Tom rushed Greyson forward. “Where’s Ian?” Danny spotted the empty chair outside Claire’s room. “He wouldn’t have just left.”

“Finlay McClellan?” Tom spoke into his radio. “Do you have a location on Ian?”

“Hey,” Fin drew out the word. “Yeah, so um, Emelie’s dad reported water running in the pipes at Solsken Inn when all the guests are supposed to be checked-out. Ian thinks it might be Henderson. We’re looking into it.”

Tom closed his eyes with a quiet curse. “I have officers in that area searching for him. I’ll send them and be on my way. If he’s there, whatever you do, do not engage him.”

“Uh ... ”

“I hear something.” Ian’s voice came from a distance.

“Finlay? You tell Ian to wait for me or one of my officers to arrive. Do you copy?” He was met with empty buzzing. “Finlay McClellan, do you copy?”

“I got him.” Danny hefted Greyson further down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “You and I both know that if it’s Henderson, Ian will engage the hell out of him. And if not? You better hide that bastard far away from me, because I fucking will.”

Tom pivoted on his heel, feet pounding down the hall as he barked orders into his radio.

Reaching Claire’s door, Danny took a fortifying breath before he opened it.

“You have to stay still, or you’ll make your injuries worse.” Annie, Merv, and Doc Clark fought a flailing Claire.

“Mom?”

Claire went still, eyes frantically scanning her son before she erupted into a sob, arms reaching out. Danny walked him over, letting him go, and he curled into a ball in her arms, crying. “Mom, I’m so sorry.”

“Greyson, ... ” she whispered, curling him tighter. “It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.”

“No, it’s not.” He lifted his face and touched hers. “What did he do to you? I didn’t know he’d ... I-I didn’t mean what I said ... you mean everything, everything. Oh, your face.”

“Shh ... ” She kissed his fingers and brought him back to her side. “I’ll heal. Don’t you worry.”

She checked and rechecked him like she was afraid he’d disappear.

“Mom.” Greyson carefully wrapped an arm around her. “I don’t want to live with them anymore. Please? Don’t send me back to them.”

Despite the pain that still made her tremble, Claire adjusted her body to fit him closer. “Shh, now.” She smoothed back his tangled hair with her good hand. “Don’t you worry, my lawyers are already working on custody.”

Relief shook his shoulders, and when she tucked him closer, her eyes met Danny’s.

For one glorious moment, he’d forgotten he wasn’t part of her family, that she didn’t want him near her anymore. Unable to catch a breath, Danny dropped his gaze and slowly backed out of the room before he, too, fell at her side and begged to be held.