Chapter 7

chapter

seven

The air around the cabin was unnaturally still, as though even the wind didn’t dare disturb the grim silence. Izzy shifted on her feet and crossed her arms over her chest as she watched the Redwood Coast Rescue team pull up in three red trucks marked with their logo.

She sucked in a fortifying breath.

The trucks rumbled to a stop, kicking up dust that settled over Izzy’s boots. She held her ground as doors slammed, and the team filled the small driveway—Zak with his intimidating yellow-eyed dog, Ranger. Donovan Scott with the border collie, Spirit. Shane Trevisano and his scruffy dog, Clue. Ellie Summers with her puppy-in-training, Puzzle. And, of course, Pierce St. James with his mop-dog, Raszta.

Rylan was the last to emerge, shutting the passenger door of the final vehicle and staring at her with an expression as hard as granite. He looked better than he had an hour ago, but not much. His golden brown hair no longer looked like he’d spent the night tossing and turning but was now neatly combed back, though a few strands still fell across his forehead. His beard had also been somewhat tamed, though it was still overdue for a trim.

She’d been surprised by the beard when he answered the door this morning. The last time she’d seen him—that day three months ago when she was fired from the sheriff’s department—he’d been clean-shaven. But the beard suited him. It was darker than the golden brown hair on his head and gave him a dangerous edge, a grittiness that was so different from his usual good old Kentucky boy charm.

It was sexy as hell, and she wanted to run her fingers through it to see if it was as soft as it looked.

The wayward thought whispered through her mind before she could stop it.

No. She couldn’t think about him like that anymore. She’d lost that privilege when she’d betrayed him and the rest of the team.

They’d never even kissed—they’d come close once, so close, and God, how she wished she’d at least experienced what it was like kissing Rylan Cross. But that didn’t mean she didn’t dream about it. He was in her dreams almost every night, his strong arms around her, his lips on hers. It was torture, especially now as he approached, his eyes cold and distant. Those eyes had once fascinated her with their constantly changing color—today, they looked more golden brown than green or gray, and they bore into her with an intensity that made her want to squirm.

“I brought the team, as promised. Where’s your friend?” he asked, his voice flat. “You were supposed to bring her with you.”

Izzy bristled at the unspoken accusation. As if Monica’s absence was somehow her fault. As if everything that had gone wrong in the past three months could be laid at her feet. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t take my calls.”

“Does she want to find her kids or not?” Zak asked. His tone was always laced with a hint of sarcasm, but today, there was an extra bite in it.

And, dammit, it hurt. She’d liked Zak even though most everyone in the sheriff’s office, including Sheriff Rawlings—Zak’s brother-in-law—thought he was a snarky pain-in-the-ass. But he’d always been kind to her.

Until now.

I deserve it , she reminded herself. He was shot because of me.

It didn’t matter that he’d been wearing a Kevlar vest, and the bullet’s impact had only broken a couple of ribs. The fact remained that he had been shot because she had given up the location of their safe house.

She scanned the faces of the others. They’d all been hurt by what she’d done, even Ellie. The woman with the brightly colored glasses and explosion of blond curls hadn’t been in the safe house that night, but her fiance had, and he’d been injured, too.

They all hated her here. And none of them were doing a good job of hiding it.

Pierce signed something. She didn’t understand ASL, and nobody translated, but from the way he was glaring at her like she was the scum of the earth, she could guess it wasn’t complimentary. Rylan shot him a look, and Pierce shrugged, his scarred neck flexing with the movement.

Izzy’s stomach twisted. She’d thought she was prepared to face their animosity, but the reality was so much worse. The weight of their collective anger and distrust pressed down on her, making it hard to breathe.

She focused on Zak because, despite his sharp tone, he seemed the safest option. “I don’t know why Monica isn’t here. I’ve been trying to reach her all morning. She’s not answering her phone, and she’s not at the motel where she told me she was staying.”

“Goddammit,” Rylan muttered under his breath. He ran a hand through his thick, wavy hair, frustration rolling off him in waves. “This better not be some ploy to?—”

“To what?” she snapped, her temper flaring. “To get you back in my life?”

Rylan’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t put words in my mouth.”

“Then what were you going to say?” Izzy challenged, her voice rising. “You think I’d orchestrate my best friend’s kids getting kidnapped just to manipulate you? Newsflash, Rylan— not everything is about you.”

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She turned away from him, blinking hard against the sudden sting of tears. She wouldn’t let him see how much his distrust hurt. “Look, I called you because I need your help. Grace and Noah need your help. So can we just...focus on that?”

“She’s right,” Zak said abruptly and scanned the property. “We have two potentially missing kids, and the longer we stand here arguing, the colder the trail gets. Shane, take Pierce and sweep the grounds starting from the cabin.”

“Looking for?” Shane asked.

“At this point, anything that might give us an idea what the hell happened to these kids. Donovan, Ellie, and I will start knocking on doors. See if anyone else was around last night who maybe saw or heard something useful. It would be great if we had witnesses and could confirm whether this is an abduction or if the kids wandered into the woods themselves and got lost. Izzy...” He turned toward her, and there was no mistaking the faint sneer of disgust when he said her name. “Since you know Grace and Noah best, check the cabin for anything that seems out of place. And let me know if the mom shows up. Rylan, go with her.”

Of course, she’d been paired with Rylan. As if the day wasn’t already stressful enough.

But then again, maybe Rylan was the safest option. Yes, he hated her, but he didn’t look like he wanted to kill her like Pierce did.

“Let’s make this quick,” Rylan said curtly, brushing past her toward the cabin’s entrance.

Rylan gave a curt nod, his expression unreadable. Without a word, he turned and strode toward the cabin, leaving Izzy no choice but to follow. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for whatever awaited her inside.

The door creaked as Rylan pushed it open, the sound unnaturally loud in the heavy silence. Izzy stepped over the threshold, her gaze sweeping the small space. It looked like a typical cabin getaway— a worn sofa, lots of wood paneling, a stone fireplace. But there was an undercurrent of wrongness that made her skin prickle.

She’d only been a deputy for a little over a year before she was fired, and she wasn’t a licensed private investigator yet. And even if she were, she wouldn’t know the first thing to look for, so she stayed back and let Rylan do a sweep through the living room.

A mug lay on its side on the coffee table, with a dark brown stain underneath that looked alarmingly like dried blood.

Rylan leaned down and put his nose close to the stain. “Chocolate.”

The breath trapped in her throat released in a whoosh. “Thank God. For a second there, I thought...”

Rylan straightened, his expression grim. “Yeah. Me too.” He moved further into the room, his gaze sweeping every surface, every corner, with the precision of a trained soldier. “Don’t just stand there. Make yourself useful.”

Heat flared in her cheeks, and she fought the urge to snap back. Instead, she stepped further into the room, scanning for anything that might have been overlooked. Her gaze landed on a small stuffed bear partially hidden beneath the couch. She crouched to pick it up, her chest tightening at the thought of Noah clinging to it during the chaos.

“Cody the Cowboy,” she said, and Rylan glanced over at her, a brow arched in question.

She straightened with the bear in her hand. It was dressed like a cowboy with a hat, chaps, and little boots. She remembered Noah’s wide eyes and happy grin when she’d taken him to Build-A-Bear for his fifth birthday, and he’d created Cody. “Noah likes to pretend he’s too old for toys, but he still sleeps with this. He wouldn’t have willingly left it behind.”

Rylan’s expression softened a fraction as he looked at the bear. “We’ll make sure he gets it back when we find him.”

When, not if. The certainty in his voice made her throat tighten with gratitude. For all his anger toward her, Rylan was still the same man she’d started falling for— steady, determined, and always ready to help someone in need.

Izzy nodded, not trusting her voice. She set the bear gently on the couch, her fingers lingering on the soft fur for a moment before she forced herself to step back.

They moved through the rest of the cabin methodically, checking each room for any sign of what had happened. In the kitchen, they found a pot in the sink with soapy water still in it and a mug with the remnants of hot chocolate.

“They were making cocoa,” Izzy said softly. “They were settling in for the night. They weren’t planning to run off into the woods.”

If Noah had been at all upset, Grace would have done everything in her power to comfort him. She would’ve made him the hot cocoa and wrapped him up in a blanket with Cody, promising him that everything would be okay. Even at eighteen, Grace had the instincts of a mother hen.

Izzy’s heart clenched as she pictured the scene. How terrified must they have been. Did they cry out for help that never came?

She turned away from the kitchen, her breath coming faster as reality started to set in. They were missing. Two kids she loved like her own family… and they were just…gone.

Rylan walked down the short hall to check the bedroom. When he returned, his prosthetic hand flexed at his side, a sure sign he was on edge. “Nothing in the bedroom. Bed’s made, no sign of a struggle. Their suitcases are still here, and Noah’s backpack is half-unpacked like someone was looking for something.”

“He was probably looking for Cody.”

“The bear,” he said after a beat. “Right. Well, we’re not getting answers from this cabin. We should check with the team, see if anyone found anything.”

A wave of helplessness washed over her. He was right. They’d searched the entire cabin and found nothing concrete, no clues to point them in the right direction. Just signs of a normal evening interrupted.

Izzy braced her hands on the kitchen counter, her head bowed as she struggled to keep her composure. “Oh, God. Where are they?”

Her chest felt too tight, her breaths too shallow. She tried to focus on breathing—deep breath in, slow breath out. Anything to keep the rising panic at bay. But it didn’t work. She still felt like she was drowning, weighed down by Grace and Noah’s disappearance, Monica’s absence, and Rylan’s cold, distant presence.

Behind her, Rylan shifted. She could feel his gaze on her back, a tangible thing that made the hair on her arms stand on end.

“We’ll find them, Iz.” His voice was quiet, gentle in a way that felt completely at odds with the tension crackling between them.

Iz.

Her throat tightened. He hadn’t called her that since… before. Since everything fell apart between them. For a moment, it was like no time had passed at all. Like they were still the people they’d been three months ago, when she thought maybe, just maybe, they had a future together.

She closed her eyes, fighting the wave of emotion that threatened to sweep her under again. It shouldn’t matter. A word was just a word, wasn’t it? But coming from him, it felt like a lifeline and a knife all at once.

She pushed off the counter and turned to face him, forcing herself to stand tall even though she felt like crumbling. “We won’t find them if we don’t have a place to start looking.”

“We’ve already started looking,” Rylan said, stepping closer. His hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach out to her but didn’t know if he should. Instead, he shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his shoulders stiff. “I know my team. They’re invested now. They won’t rest until those kids are found.”

Izzy caught the careful way he avoided saying how they’d find the kids—safe, unharmed, alive. But she didn’t call him out on it because she knew as well as he did that the odds of a positive outcome decreased with every passing hour.

He was close enough now that she could see the lines of exhaustion around his eyes and the subtle tremor in his hand. The urge to reach out and smooth away the tension in his brow was nearly overwhelming, but she clenched her fists at her sides instead. He was not well—he was struggling—and she wondered why nobody on his team seemed to notice.

"When's the last time you slept?" she asked, unable to keep the concern from her voice.

And his guard went right back up. She saw the exact moment he locked the shields in place between them. His gaze went cold and flinty again. “That’s none of your business.”

"You're right. It's not my business anymore. Guess it never really was, was it? We never got that far..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Forget it. Let's go see if the others found anything." She moved to step around him, careful not to let their bodies touch, afraid that even the barest contact felt like it would shatter her fragile composure.

“Iz, wait.” His voice was low, almost hesitant. “I know things between us are... complicated.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” She didn’t turn around. She was afraid if she did, she’d burst into tears, throw herself into his arms, and beg that he forgive her when she knew damn well he never would. “You hate me, and you have every right.”

“I don’t hate you. I’m angry, and I’m hurt, but as hard as I try, as much as I want to…” He exhaled a shaky breath that sounded almost like an incredulous laugh. “I can’t hate you.”

“You should,” she whispered and finally faced him.

“Yeah, well, we both know I’m not always great at doing what I should.” He shook his head, a wry twist to his lips. “Look, whatever else is between us, I just… need you to know that I’m here.”

“And I appreciate it. I know Monica appreciates it, too.”

Except where was Monica? The niggling worry crept back in. Monica was almost pathologically punctual. If she said she’d be somewhere at a particular time, she never canceled and always showed up before anyone else.

“I’m not here for her. Or for the kids,” Rylan said after a beat that had stretched into uncomfortable silence territory. He hesitated, then took a step closer. He reached out, his hand brushing hers. The touch was fleeting, so light she might have imagined it, but it sent a jolt through her all the same. She met his gaze, her breath lodged in her throat.

Rylan’s expression was earnest, his hazel eyes searching her face. In that moment, she wanted so badly to believe him—to believe that he was here for her, too. That despite everything, some small part of him still cared.

A spark of hope flickered in her chest, but she quickly tamped it down. She couldn’t afford to let herself believe, not when she’d already lost so much. Rylan must have seen the doubt in her eyes because he sighed, his hand falling back to his side.

“Never mind. We should get back to the others and see if they found anything useful.”

He turned toward the door, but she caught his arm on impulse. “Rylan.”

He tensed, the muscles in his forearm bunching like he planned to yank away.

“Thank you,” she said softly before he could.

Two lines of confusion appeared between his brows. “For what?”

“For coming here. For listening to me even when…” She trailed off, unable to finish the thought. Even when I gave you every reason to walk away. Even when I broke your trust.

He shook his head, a small, rueful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Listening is my job.”

His job. That was all she could ever be to him now. Of course.

Her hand fell away from his arm. “I just…” She wet her lips and struggled to find the right words. “I need you to know that I never meant to hurt you. Or Rhiannon. Or anyone else. I was only trying to protect my family.”

Pain flashed in his eyes before he shuttered it away. He opened his mouth to respond?—

The front door swung open with a bang, startling them both. Izzy whirled around, her hand instinctively going to the gun she no longer carried.

Shane stood in the doorway. It was hard to tell through all of his scar tissue, but his expression looked grim. “We’ve got something.”

Oh, God. Had they found a body? Her stomach revolted at the thought, and she had to swallow hard to avoid revisiting her breakfast. “What is it?”

“Trail cams. The owner of this resort has them set up all around the property.”

Rylan frowned. “And he didn’t think to mention this until now?”

Shane’s mouth twisted. “He claims he forgot.”

“Forgot?” Rylan echoed doubtfully.

“Yeah. My guess? He’s up to some shady shit—probably poaching. But that’s not the point.” Shane’s gaze flicked between them and finally landed on Izzy. “The point is, we’ve got footage from last night.”

The air in the room grew electric, racing over her skin with a prickle of dread. “Show me.”