Page 100 of Redeeming Melodies

"Fuck no." His grin came wide and real. "Just pissed I lost the bet. Mike, you called this years ago."

Wait. What?

Delaney’s laugh filled the space. "Please. Remember that charity gala? The way he couldn't take his eyes off that Swedish driver?"

"You knew?" The words came out small, shocked.

"Kid." Mike's hand landed warm on my shoulder. "Known you since you were a rookie trying too hard to be what everyone expected. Maybe you're just finally figuring out who you actually are."

The acceptance hit like a tidal wave. These men, who'd seen me through everything, just nodding like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"Tell us about him." Tom leaned forward, genuinely curious. "This sheriff who stole our champion."

So I did. Told them about Jake's quiet strength, his dedication to his town. About pancake mornings and starlit conversations. About a man who saw through my walls and stayed anyway.

"Sounds real." Mike's voice went soft. "More real than anything you had with Vanessa, if I'm being honest."

"It is." The certainty felt good. Right. "He's worth everything. The media shit, the custody battle, all of it."

"Custody battle?" Tom's face darkened. "Vanessa giving you trouble?"

Filled them in on that too. The threats, the press conference, everything. By the end, I had a crew of pissed-off racing veterans ready to drive to Oakwood Grove and stand guard.

"She's not winning this one." Delaney’s tone brooked no argument. "We've got your back, kid. Whatever you need."

"Damn straight." Tommy raised his bottle. "To the boss man and his sheriff. May they give Vanessa the biggest fuck you in racing history."

The toast went around, each man adding their support in their own way. Simple, solid, real.

"You know what's funny?" Found myself saying as the night wound down. "Spent years thinking this was my only family. The crew, the circuit, all of it. Now I've got Jake, and Tommy, and this whole town that just took us in without question."

Left Murphy's feeling lighter than I had in weeks. Because yeah, tomorrow would bring more battles. More press, more custody shit, more challenges.

But I wasn't facing it alone anymore.

Had Jake's strength at my back.

Had my crew in my corner.

Had a whole damn town ready to fight for what we were building.

Time to show Vanessa what real family looked like.

THE HUNT

The forest swallowed sound differently at night. Every snap of twigs under our boots felt like a gunshot, every rustle of leaves a warning. Rio and Smith moved like shadows beside me, their training showing in how they placed each step. Been tracking Ramirez's ghost all day, following whispers and maybes until Mrs. Henderson's tip led us here.

"Movement, two o'clock," Smith breathed, barely audible. His flashlight beam caught something metallic through the trees - reflection off a window maybe, or something worse.

The old Johnston cabin. Hadn't thought about that place in years, not since we'd cleared out the last bunch of teenagers using it for parties. But now it sat there in the darkness like it had been waiting for us, like it knew something we didn't.

Hand signals moved us forward - Rio left, Smith right, me taking point. Standard procedure except nothing felt standard about this. The cabin's outline grew clearer with each step, moonlight painting its broken edges in silver and shadow.

Fresh footprints in the mud. Recent. Maybe hours old. Someone big, moving with purpose. Ramirez's size, Ramirez's stride length. Son of a bitch had been here.

Food wrappers scattered near the porch told more stories - protein bars, those specific energy drinks he always kept in the break room. Fucker hadn't gone far, was probably watching us right now from somewhere in the darkness.

"Sheriff." Rio's whisper carried urgent. His flashlight beam caught more prints leading around back. Blood mixed with the mud there, not much but enough to know someone was hurt.

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