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BR A E D Y N
THE LATE-MORNING SUN soaked the backyard as Owen and Yeti raced around the space. Owen had lost interest in the alarm project about an hour in. He might have had some serious hero worship when it came to Dex, but he still only had the attention span of an eight-year-old.
My thumb scrolled over the comments on the photo I’d posted last night, and I hit hide on Vincent’s two douchebag contributions. I wouldn’t have to look at them, and he would think I was simply ignoring him. A win-win in my book.
Because if there was one thing an egomaniac hated, it was
being ignored.
“What’d that phone ever do to you?”
My head jerked up at the sound of Dex’s voice. “What is it with you and sneaking up on people?”
Dex frowned. “You need to be more aware of your surroundings.”
“Maybe I just need to stop befriending black-hat stalkers.”
His lips twitched. “Your friendly, neighborhood,gray-hat stalker is happy to report your system is up and running.
Open the app.”
“That was fast.” I toggled to the app Dex had helped me download and set up an account for.
“It’s not that large of a space,” Dex said by way of explanation as he sat next to me on the steps. He leaned in closer to tap on the camera icon. As he did, that scent wafted toward me. It was sunbaked now, as if the cedar and sandalwood had lain beneath the rays for hours. “Here are
your four different cameras.”
“Isn’t that a little overkill?”
Dex’s gaze lifted to mine from behind those glasses.
“Given everything going on, I don’t think so.”
My mouth flattened into a hard line. “Yeah, maybe not.”
“Sorry.” His voice dropped on the single word. “I don’t want to bring back bad memories, but I want you to be safe.”
I nodded, swallowing hard. “Safe is good. Show me what I need to know.”
He walked me through how to make the cameras change directions, how the motion alerts worked, and how to arm and disarm the system with my phone.
“Pretty sure I could launch my house like a rocket now.”
One corner of Dex’s mouth kicked up. “Not quite, but it’s a solid system. I get my gear from one of the best.”
I had a feeling Blaze wasn’t paying for that gear. “You
didn’t have to do this,” I said softly.
“No, I didn’t.”
My gaze lifted, seeking Dex’s. His answer was so unexpected. So…him. Honest and to the point but not exactly living in the land of politeness and half-truths.
He laid a hand over mine on the deck, his fingers not curling around mine but covering them. Steady pressure.
Heat. The kind that trailed up my arm and invaded the rest of me. The kind that had me wondering what it would feel like to have all of Dex pinning me down, taking me, filling— shit.
I did everything I could to force the images from my head.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“I did it because I wanted to. Because you have every right to feel safe in your home. Because no one should get messed with the way you were yesterday—especially after everything you’ve been through.”
There was something in the way he said those words.
Something that had my eyes lifting again, playing with fire.
“You say that like you know what it feels like.”
Dex’s hand didn’t leave mine. It stayed—that steady covering. I wasn’t sure I’d ever had something like that. And he didn’t look away from me as he spoke. “My mom. She disappeared when I was ten. And after everything came out about my dad, lots of people messed with us in all the ways.”
I didn’t speak, didn’t breathe. All I could imagine was a boy not much older than Owen wondering where his mother had gone.
“Some people wanted us to think we were the spawn of Satan. Others wanted to jerk us around with reports of seeing Mom alive or dead. And I think some genuinely thought they were helping.”
God, I couldn’t imagine living through all that. The weight of it. The torment.
“You were twelve when they found out about your father?” I asked softly.
Dex’s throat worked as he struggled to swallow. “Yeah.
Sixth grade. Before that, my biggest problem was Leigh Friedman breaking up with me on the playground in front of
all my friends.”
“That bitch,” I muttered.
He let out a soft chuckle that didn’t quite ring true but said he appreciated my efforts to lighten his load.
“Everything changed. It wasn’t just that we all suddenly wondered if our dad had something to do with our mom’s disappearance—”
“Did he?” My stomach cramped just thinking about the possibility.
Dex shrugged, the movement making me all the more aware of his hand over mine. The steady pressure. The heat.
He looked out at the water, at Owen and Yeti racing in circles in front of it. “We still don’t know. He either killed her, or she knew what she was doing when she disappeared.
All we know is investigators never found her body with the others.”
Everything in me twisted like a tight coil of rope that might explode outward with one wrong move. I wasn’t sure which was worse: knowing your mother had been killed and stolen from you or knowing she chose to walk away, leaving you with a monster.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, then shook my head. “No. I hate when people say that. Iam sorry, but I’m also pissed off and sad and grieving for the twelve-year-old boy who never should’ve been leveled with all of this.”
Dex’s fingers moved then, curling around mine and squeezing. “I’m partial to your anger, Hellion. Makes your eyes burn with gold fire.”
My breath hitched. “I find my mad pretty damn easily.”
His mouth curved the barest amount. “Means something, you lighting that righteous fury for me. But I made it through. I’m okay.”
“Are you?” The question spilled out before I could stop it.
Surprise and a hint of admiration lit Dex’s expression.
“I’m okay, and I’m not. It changed me. Changed all of us. And
we’ve each dealt in our own way.”
“And your way?”
Dex’s jaw moved back and forth, locking and unlocking.
Somehow, I knew answering this would cost him. “I needed to understand how he hid. How all the monsters hid. I needed to put together the pieces. So I started looking.”
“On the internet,” I surmised.
“In the dark places the internet hides.”
My stomach roiled, knowing just from my bits of research what all the dark web housed. Graphic pornography and
things that couldn’t be classified with a word that constituted consent. Illegal offerings of every kind. Human trafficking.
The worst humanity had to offer.
“When did you start?” Because I needed to know that piece, too.
“Started dabbling around age thirteen, knew what I was doing by sixteen, arrested by twenty-one for hacking into the FBI’s files to help a friend look into their missing brother.”
“Too young to know about that kind of darkness.”
Dex’s eyes found mine again. “Brae, Ilived with that kind of darkness. It raised me. I may not have known it at the time, but it doesn’t change the truth.”
I didn’t have anything to say to that. Not at first. “Makes it even more of a miracle that you turned out like you did.”
“You don’t know—”
It was my turn to squeeze Dex’s hand. I flipped mine over so we were palm-to-palm and put all my strength behind the motion. “I know. I know that you decided to help me, even though it puts you at risk, even though it pisses off at least
one of your brothers.”
“Two,” he admitted.
“Even though it pisses offtwo of your brothers. I know that you held me together when I was shattering like that glass on the floor. I know you made me pancakes because you saw how tired I was. And I know that you answered every single one of my kid’s questions, even though he had fifty million. I know you’re good, Dex.”
His hand spasmed around mine as if my words were a physical blow. “People can hide their true natures.”
“They can,” I agreed. I’d seen it up close and personal with Vincent.
“Maybe I’m hiding who I really am from you.”
He didn’t know how much that terrified me. Not that he’d turn out to be a serial killer but that he would stop showing up. “You could be. And that’s why I don’t lean. But it won’t change that I believe in your good.”
“You not leaning is why I had to force my pancakes on you,” Dex teased, the slightest lightness entering his tone.
“It’s not easy for me to accept help when I’ve had it yanked out from under me so many times.”
“But you’re doing it.”
“I’m doing it.” I let out a long breath. “We all have a choice.”
“I guess we do.” Dex’s gaze traced my face. “You’re
braver than me.”
I scoffed. “I highly doubt that.”
“Your bravery stops me in my damn tracks. You face everything. You don’t look away. You don’t give up. You keep fighting.”
My eyes burned. Because I wanted to believe I was all of that. “Sometimes, I’m so damn tired of fighting.”
Empathy washed over Dex’s face. “You just need some reinforcements. I’ve got you covered.”
God, that scared the hell out of me, but I wanted it so badly I could taste it. “Tell me about who I’m going to meet at this family dinner.”
He was quiet for a moment before giving in to my subject change. “Well, you know Wylder, my sober brother who owns the bar. He’s the eldest.”
My brows lifted. “I didn’t know he didn’t drink.”
“Not a drop. And I’m not speaking out of school. He’s pretty open with that journey and his involvement in the
program.”
“Good for him. That’s a tough road.”
Dex nodded slightly. “Like I said, we all had our ways of coping, and some of them were more destructive than others.”
A heaviness settled over me, like one of those coverings they gave you when you got an X-ray. A lead blanket.
Because I couldn’t imagine the stew of damage these brothers had had to deal with.
“We do what we can to get by. We keep going,” I said quietly.
“We do.” Dex swallowed. “Kol, the second oldest, turned inward. Guilt. Feels like he should’ve been there. Should’ve seen something. Protected us. Honestly, I think the surprise of finding out he had a daughter saved him.”
The war found me again, the one where sadness and hope battled. “Skylar seems like she could light anyone’s world.”
“That little princess has us all wrapped around her fingers. She sort of centered things. Gave us all a focus outside ourselves.”
“I get that.” My gaze found Owen, who was now lying in the grass with Yeti, yammering away as if the dog could understand every word. “It cures the self-pity in a snap, gives you instant perspective.”
“It does. And damn, they’re amazing to watch grow.”
“They are.” My gaze flicked to Dex.
“What about her mom? In the picture?” I asked.
A different sort of shadow passed across Dex’s face as his jaw turned to granite. “No. Not in the picture.”
There was a story there, but it wasn’t Dex’s to tell.
I gave him an out. “What about Maverick?”
That tension eased—the way Maverick’s presence seemed to do. One corner of Dex’s mouth kicked up.
“Youngest brother. Hell on wheels. Always looking for the next adrenaline high. Extreme sports, risky jobs. Anything he
can get his hands on.”
I grinned. “He seems like a character.”
“That’s one word for it.”
A soft laugh escaped, and Dex turned, staring at my mouth as if trying to memorize the sound.
I forced my gaze away from the temptation—too much.
“And Orion?”
I felt the change in Dex more than I saw it. His hand stiffened under mine before he pulled it away. I missed the contact and steady pressure almost immediately. But I
welcomed it, too. It was a reminder that even Dex would go away. I couldn’t lose sight of that.
“Middle brother. Everything that happened…it was the hardest on him.”
I shifted, forcing myself to take Dex in again, to make myself accept the pieces of him he was willing to give. But when I saw his face, everything that was so focused inward melted away. Because what I saw there was pure and utter agony.
The emotion was so strong and sharp it forced me to suck in air. I wanted to reach for him again. To tell him I was there. But I stopped myself.
Instead, I simply waited. For whatever Dex wanted to lay at my feet.
“Orion saved us. When Mav and I found things we shouldn’t have. When our father caught us. It was Orion who saved us. He got a gun from our father’s stash and shot him.
Killed him. And that cost him everything.”
My heart hammered in my ears, creating a sort of whooshing sound that was difficult to hear through.
“Everything was so fucked,” Dex croaked. “Cops came.
They took Orion away. Think they went at him pretty hard.
At least until they realized who my father really was and saw the trophies. Until they found the women’s bodies buried in the orchard. Thirty-six. But they think there may be more.”
My body jolted. Every revelation a blow. But it was nothing compared to what Dex had faced. The blows he’d been dealt.
“After those days in custody, Orion stopped speaking. It was like his words had been turned into weapons against him, and he refused to risk it anymore. He used to write to communicate, and he learned to sign—but only to our family.
Now…it’s just less and less.”
God, everything in me hurt. My heart ached for Orion— for all of the Archer brothers.
“But he texted you today.” I couldn’t help trying to give Dex a sliver of hope.
The corners of his mouth lifted in a sad smile. “Maybe pissing him off is the key.”
“It makes sense…that he doesn’t trust easily.”
“I don’t think any of us do. That’s what happens when someone so close to you turns. It makes you think anyone could. Or worse, that the ability is in you.”
I stared at Dex for a long moment. “You’re worried you’ll turn out like your father.”
It wasn’t a question, but Dex answered it anyway. “His DNA runs through me. I can’t help wondering if there’s that urge in me. But I deal. I face it. I fucking despise guns, but I learned how to use every type I could get my hands on.
More, I became a damn good shot. Got even better when I had access to some of the FBI’s training facilities.”
My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I struggled to swallow. “You’re not going to turn.”
Dex stared back at me, the green in those hazel eyes darkening to nearly black behind his glasses. “You don’t know that. I’ve learned a lot working beside profilers.
Sometimes, living with that sort of darkness taints you.”
“And sometimes it makes you seek the light. Makes you fuel it. Dex, you light the dark places.”
He didn’t move his gaze from my face for a long moment.
“You really believe that.”
“Iknow that.” I might not have known Dex long, but I saw how he moved through the world. The way he helped when he had everything to lose and nothing to gain.
“We still haven’t talked about Waylon.”
Confusion bloomed at the abrupt turn in the conversation.
But then I saw it for what it was—a deep need to steer away from the heaviness. “Tell me about him.”
“Great-uncle on my dad’s side. The only family who stepped forward to take us in. Has a ranch where he raises alpacas, rare sheep, goats, and even a few yaks.”
My mouth curved. “Owen is going to flip when he gets to see that.”
Dex chuckled, and the sound came out a little rusty, like he hadn’t made it in a long time. In reality, he was simply shaking off the heaviness of what he’d shared. “He’s a character. Amazing cook. Incredible and eccentric clockmaker. And a Bigfoot enthusiast.”
Owen’s head popped up in the grass, sending Yeti scrambling up. “Did you say Bigfoot?”
Dex grinned, his gaze connecting with Owen’s. “I did. You like Bigfoot stories?”
Owen sent him a massive gap-toothed smile. “Tell him, Mom.”
Dex’s gaze moved to me, a hint of confusion in it.
I pressed my lips together to hide my grin. “In this house, we are Bigfoot believers. Why do you think our dog is named Yeti?”
Dex groaned, letting his head fall back. “Never mind. You can’t come to dinner. You and Waylon will be way too much.”
“Hey,” I clipped. “The truth is out there. It’s not my fault you don’t want to believe.”
