Page 1 of My Stupid Heart

Hecouldreciteitverbatim; he’d read it so many times.

But that didn’t stop the chills from sweeping down his spine as Ryker McKnight stared at Molly’s text message for the five hundredth time.

Hey Ryker.I’m really sorry to do this right now.I know you’re all at the wedding.I wish we could be there.But you’ve always said that I could call or message whenever.Well, I need help.I’ve gone to the police and filed a restraining order, but it’s not working.I’m scared for Sasha and for me.I briefly tried dating her soccer coach.It was great at first, but after a couple of months, he became really possessive and would demand to read my text messages and emails.He found an email from Rob and Skyler thanking us for the twins’ birthday presents and he lost his mind.Accused me of having an affair with Rob.He tried tapping my phone, and I found cameras in the house—even the bathroom and Sasha’s room.He’s been arrested, but he was released.He won’t leave us alone.We came home last night after Sasha’s dance recital to find Sasha’s cat dead and nailed to the side of the house.Sasha is terrified.The police have been notified again, but I’m scared.I don’t know what to do.Please help.

The pilot just made the announcement that they were less than thirty minutes from landing in Jackson Hole.Ryker already had a rental vehicle lined up, and he never checked a bag.He’d be at Molly and Sasha’s door in under an hour.

Molly O’Shea.The widow of one of Ryker’s best friends.Of his brother in arms.

Brendan O’Shea had been the salt of the motherfucking earth.

He was the guy who reminded them all of what they were fighting for.He was the guy who grounded them when shit got way too fucking real and bleak as fuck.

He was the guy who wasn’t afraid to hug his brothers, to tell them he loved them and to check in with a call or a text messagejust because.He was the guy who reminded them that it was okay to cry, it was okay to feel, and it was okay tonotbe okay.

And he was the brother who took his own life, because while he was busy making sure everyone else was okay, he was battling his own demons behind the veil of his charismatic smile.Because what he saw and experienced in the field, fighting the Hellspawn of the earth and protecting the innocent was too much for him to bear.

Not a day went by they didn’t all think about Brendan and about what they could have done to help him.To save him from himself the way Brendan had saved them all from themselves at least once.

Guilt took up permanent residence in each of their hearts and they eased that pain just the smallest bit by making sure Brendan’s wife Molly and their daughter Sasha were always taken care of.

But over the years, Ryker’s constant presence in Molly and Sasha’s life—helping them move to a bigger house, building them a fence and Sasha a playhouse, fixing drywall and spraying insulation in the attic, it all turned into more than just Ryker showing up for Brendan.

His heart got tangled up in the mess, and he showed up for Molly, too.

If he wanted to be quick about it, he’d take a detour on his way to Molly’s, stop at the stalker’s house—because he already had the guy’s address and every other bit of information about him—and dispose of the creep.

He was a master at making things look like an accident.

He was a master at making people disappear and never found again.

One of his many nicknames among him and his brothers was Mr.Clean.Because he never left a fingerprint, let alone a drop of blood or a muddy footprint.He’d taken care of more than enough bad guys in his career, that he could probably erase a crime scene in his sleep or with a blindfold on.

But this was Molly and Sasha he was talking about.

He wouldn’t be doing anything with a blindfold.

He first needed to get to their house and find out how they were, then create a plan.He’d reach out to local law enforcement and see what they were doing besides placing a vehicle outside Molly’s house.Yes, the perp had been arrested, but now he was out.Free to terrorize again.Hopefully, Sasha didn’t have any more pets that the soccer coach could get his hands on.

The pilot touched down flawlessly on the tarmac and Ryker was off the plane and running across the asphalt toward the door less than a minute later, his carry-on duffle bag slung over his shoulder.

He grabbed his rental pickup truck at the front desk and shot off a quick text to Molly.

In JH.On my way to you now.

He didn’t need to punch her address into the GPS.Making his way to Molly was also something he could do in his sleep.

In fact, she often came to him in his dreams.

Which had him waking up guilty as fuck because what they did in his dreams, what he did with his best friend’s wife in his dreams, was nothing short of filthy and depraved and fifty-six shades of wrong.

He could put his desires aside.He always did and always would.Molly needed his help and he would do everything in his power to protect her and Sasha.It was a vow they all made at Brendan’s funeral and one they all continued to uphold.

Regardless of his feelings, he would help Molly.He would always help Molly.

His heart would heal later.Like it always did when he said goodbye to the woman he loved.

“Uncle Ryker!”Sasha said, her long, gangly teenager legs in short-shorts, carrying her down the cobblestone path from the front door to the driveway.She threw herself into his arms as he grabbed his duffle bag from the backseat.

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