Chapter 1

"Police! Come out of the house! Show your hands!" I wasn't sure if anyone was inside the house, but it wasn't hurting anything to yell as a precaution. The alarm had been tripped, and lately, Almstead Island had been plagued with burglaries.

The island had a significant full-time population year-round, but the population swelled to at least double during the summer. This was a summer house, used only sporadically during the rest of the year.

No sound came from the interior. No one came out of the house either. I cautiously crossed the threshold and ventured into the living area. I stayed close to the wall and felt along the textured wall, looking for a light switch. I didn't find any, so I abandoned the effort and crept toward what I thought was the kitchen. My steps were as quiet as I could make them, which was no small feat for someone six-four and two-thirty before decked out in duty gear.

The faintest sound came from farther into the interior. "Police! You need to show yourself." The last thing I wanted was to confront anyone on my own. Movies always made cops look like the Lone Ranger, ready to ride in, gun blazing, and save the girl alone. Fuck that. There were cops like that, but thankfully, they didn't last long in our department.

The chief believed in de-escalation whenever possible and violence was always the last resort. I didn't love the idea of a confrontation with anyone while alone, but I might not get a choice today. We'd been short-handed with vacations and retirements, which was why the patrol division was taking point on the burglary issue.

If I'd been smart, I'd have volunteered to direct traffic instead of letting Cameron beat me to it. Usually, it was just critters like raccoons or whatever tripping the alarms. Occasionally, someone's kid snuck away from town and set up a weekend house party without notifying their parents.

The front door had been partially open when I arrived on scene, but everything was dark and shuttered. Someone had been here, but I hoped it was just some kid who left quickly when they heard me pull up. The odds were in my favor, so I'd gone in to check it out since no one was available for backup.

Dumb.

"Officer Hagen, we'll transfer you to the bed and off our gurney." The EMT was calm and smooth in his practiced delivery. He was probably used to soothing agitated people. I was agitated, but not at him. There was nothing I hated more than fucking up at my job, and today felt like a fuck-up. The doctor followed him and administered some tests, asking if I knew where I was and what had happened. He checked for dilation and reflexes and then ordered a CT scan.

The part I dreaded the most was the phone call I knew would come from my folks. My dad wouldn't hesitate to remind me how much better of a cop he was than me. He'd say that no one would get the jump on him because he'd been properly trained in a real department instead of playing cop at a glorified security patrol like the one I was on. He dealt with real criminals, while I dealt with rowdy teenagers who partied too much. My mom would chime in with the evergreen suggestion that I quit my job, marry a nice girl, and do something more suitable for my minimal talents. She never said what those supposed talents were, but she made it clear they didn't lay in law enforcement.

Regardless of what my folks thought, I loved my job in the police department on Almstead Island. Unlike most of the islands in the Sound, our island was a fully incorporated city, so there were city and rural areas to patrol. Aside from the downtown core, the island was covered in old-growth forest pines. There were a couple of marinas along the coastline as well. During the off-season, locals kept us busy with petty arguments, bad driving, and the occasional mischief teenagers always get into. But serious crimes like burglary? Those were almost unheard of here.

While I waited for the doctor to return, I tried to remember how stoic I was because, damn, my head hurt. Sitting in an exam bay at our emergency room wasn't helping. The beeps and shouts were challenging and my head throbbed. Closing my eyes and sleeping seemed the best way to stop the pain, but that was proving to be impossible. Thankfully, the bleeding had slowed to an ooze, but there was still a chance of stitches.

"Hey, Hagen, the doctor is still tied up, so it will be a while," Tracy, the nurse on duty, said on her way to somewhere else.

Fuck.

My head hurt, but it wouldn't kill me. It hurt to breathe, but there was no wheeze to worry about, and they'd already taken a chest x-ray. Someone would have come in to talk to me if it were serious. The goose egg was probably ugly, but didn't kids constantly get them, and they were fine, right? Sleeping it off at home seemed like a much better idea than hanging out here.

Decision made, I moved to push myself out of the hospital bed. The plastic covering on the bed gave me away, and the green curtain was pushed aside by a tall, dark-haired man in an identical uniform to my own.

"You aren't leaving. Get your ass back in bed, loser." Cameron, my partner and cousin, edged closer to the bed and gave me a tight look. I could see the concern in the bags under his eyes. He was worried about me, but I knew those bags had been there for days.

"No reason to stay, fucker. I'm going home."

Tracy, one of the emergency room nurses, bustled in just as I made my pronouncement. She gave me a reproving look, pushed me back to lie on the bed, and readjusted the monitor beeping over my shoulder. After checking the chart on the computer, she noted something and turned back to me. "Hagen, you aren't going anywhere. You are waiting for the doctor to finish with a surprise delivery, and then he'll be in to see you. This isn't a discussion."

"Tracy, this is fucking stupid. I'm fine. Let me go home, and I'll come back tomorrow to be checked out." I hated being in this bed surrounded by people coming and going. Being around people was a necessary part of the job, but beyond that, I wanted nothing to do with them. All the noise and the intrusions into my business made my skin crawl. Tracy, who'd known me since high school, gave me a pitying look.

"Tell you what, Hagen. I'll get you moved to an empty room that's not directly in the ER, but you have to stay until the doctor clears you. I know you think you're fine, and you probably won't admit it, but I would bet Cam's salary you're dizzy, your head is pounding, and your ribs hurt like a bitch." Huffing my annoyance, I stayed put. She wasn't wrong, but I wouldn't give her the satisfaction of admitting it.

"Fine." I knew when I'd lost. After disconnecting the monitors, Tracy called for another nurse to help her move me to another room in a more private location. The hospital was small, so it didn't take long to travel down the linoleum hallway to a room around the corner. It was much quieter and had an actual door. Tracy reattached everything and promised the doctor would be in soon. Cameron had excused himself while Tracy moved me. He'd walked into the hallway and looked upset while talking on the phone. It was either my parents or Laken, his best friend.

I tried to sleep again. My phone, which Tracy had put on the table beside my bed, vibrated. So much for sleeping. I fumbled for it and hit accept without seeing who was calling.

"Yeah?"

"Really, Beckett? Is it too much to ask for a phone to be answered properly? Cameron called us since you couldn't be bothered to tell us you've managed to get yourself hurt. This is why you need to quit. You'll never be the officer your father is, and it's sad to see you put yourself through this when it shouldn't be a competition," my mom said in a rush.

Mom forgot to take a breath while word-vomiting all over my manners, life, and job. Her tone dripped with the usual condescension she aimed at me. It'd been a long time since I tried to stay in my parents' good graces. They'd wanted some outgoing, team sports-playing guy who wanted a wife and to climb the ranks of a large department. Instead, they got a gay introvert who liked to read and lift weights with no desire to leave my current small department.

"Mom, stop. I'm not quitting. I'm not trying to compete with Dad. The doctor is coming in, so I need to go." The doctor wasn't coming, but I couldn't deal with her and this headache. Cameron finished his phone call and came back into the room. It must have been Laken, and it must not have gone well if the hard line of his mouth was any indication. He proceeded to stare me down in stony silence.

Cameron and I continued our silent face-off when the doctor strode in. His coat was rumpled, and his glasses were shoved on his head. A pen was tucked behind his ear, but he patted his pockets like he was looking for it. He gave up, grabbed a rolling stool from the corner, and sat. "Sorry about the delay," the doctor apologized with a wry smile, "but babies wait for no one, including their ferry ride to their OB. Officer Hagen, you've sustained a concussion. All head wounds should be treated like they are serious. The cut has stopped bleeding, so we can get by with glue. You will have a headache, making self-care and taking your meds on time difficult. You'll need someone with you as a precaution. Without someone with you, I think staying overnight here would be wise."

"Absolutely fucking not. I will sign myself out AMA." My body protested, but I pushed myself into a sitting position. There was no way in fucking hell I was staying in this hospital.

"I thought you would say that," Dr. Betchel said. "Officer Hagen indicated he's single on the paperwork, but Tracy said you're cousins. Can you stay with him? Or maybe some other family member? Significant other? Friend?" He looked directly at Cameron, who stood staring out the window with an expression that was somewhere close to murderous.

"Officer Hagen is still in the fucking room, so you can stop talking to Cameron like I'm not. I don't need a fucking babysitter."

The doctor found his glasses on his head, swung his head back to me, and gave me a stern look over the top of the lenses. "You do."

Okay, time for another tactic.

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine and don't need anyone with me." Joke was on him because I was going home AMA regardless. No one else was needed. The jackhammer working nonstop at the back of my skull would go away with enough aspirin, and my ribs weren't broken. This was overkill.

"Quit being so damned stubborn," Cameron hissed. "The doc will only let you go home if someone is there with you, and my flight leaves in four hours. It's an hour from the airport off the ferry. Cap is on duty tonight and promised to reserve a spot for me. I can't miss this flight." Cap was yet another cousin—this island was crawling with them—and the head captain for the ferry between Almstead Island and the mainland.

The doctor decided to rejoin the conversation and added, "I'm pretty good friends with the chief. We play poker together. I can give him a call if it will help you decide."

Asshole.

"Beckett, I swear to fucking God, if you don't agree to let someone be with you, I will call your mother. She will annoy the shit out of you, and I'll miss my flight waiting for her to get here. You will sure as shit still be miserable because I am not staying here. So if you don't want her here, then stop being so fucking stubborn."

"You will not call my mom," I bit out. Talking made my head hurt worse. Even though I whispered it, the sound still reverberated in my head. I couldn't even remember why I was being such an asshole.

"C'mon, man, I've been planning this trip to see Laken for months. I haven't said anything, but I'm worried about him. His asshole of a boyfriend was pissed when we finalized the time. If I miss my flight, I don't know if I will actually see him."

Cameron looked worried. His eyes were tired, and black smudges ringed them as if he was the one who'd been in a fight. His voice had a scratchy hitch that wasn't usually there.

I'd forgotten about the trip he'd planned to see Laken. He grew up on the island with all of us. He and Cameron had been next-door neighbors and best friends forever. Laken came out forever ago and had started dating his boyfriend in college. With the exception of drunken bets at frat parties, Cameron never messed around with guys. They were best friends for life…whenever Laken's boyfriend didn't interfere with their friendship.

The couple came for a visit once a few years ago, and Laken's boyfriend was a straight-up dick. At the mandatory family BBQ, we were all uncomfortable around them. The boyfriend was so jealous of Cameron that he couldn't see straight. The jackass never missed a chance to put Laken down either. He'd tell him his jokes weren't funny, his laugh was too loud, or insinuate he was too stupid to understand something.

When the boyfriend had informed Laken he was embarrassing himself and needed to shut up, I'd been pretty sure Cameron was about to beat the shit out of him on the spot. Laken had looked down, apologized, and stopped doing whatever the boyfriend had complained about. Cameron said later that he'd tried to get him to stay, but Laken wouldn't. Something about how the boyfriend wasn't that bad and had just been nervous.

Fuuuuuuuck.

"Don't call my mom. Who else can babysit me?" Cameron's answering smile was both relieved and weirdly smug. He peeled his hands off the windowsill he'd been white-knuckling.

"Hold on a sec. I know who to ask," he said on the way out the door. "Don't go anywhere."

"I'm stuck in a hospital bed. Where the fuck am I gonna go?" I whisper-shouted at his departing back.