Page 93 of Wildflower and Whiskey
Becket crouched, inspecting the latch and the floor. “No dirt. No debris. Means they carried him, didn’t run. Two sets of prints in the frost. Heavy men, not teens.” He stood; his expression grim. “They planned this.”
My voice finally found its way out. “You think this is about Riley?”
Becket didn’t sugarcoat it. “Yeah. Or about whoever Riley owes.”
The words hit like a slap. I leaned on the counter. “He’s just a baby. Why?—”
“Because they want control,” Phoenix said quietly. “And they know the fastest way to make someone fold is to take what they love.”
I pressed a hand to my mouth. Phoenix reached for me, but Becket’s radio cut through before he could touch me. A crackle. A voice.
“Found tracks heading east, past the orchard. Two large boot prints.”
My vision tunneled. “They’re walking? Not driving?”
“Maybe moved to a vehicle past the trees,” Becket said. “Phoenix, you’re not coming with us.”
“The hell I’m not,” Phoenix snapped.
Becket’s look was pure command. “You need to stay here in case they double back. If they’re working in pairs, one could still be watching the house.”
Phoenix’s nostrils flared, but he nodded once. “You call me the second you see anything.”
Becket clapped his shoulder. “We will.”
They disappeared into the dark with their flashlights cutting white through the trees. The sound of engines came a minute later, fading toward the river road.
The kitchen was too quiet again. I could still see the empty crib in my head.
Phoenix dropped to a chair, elbows braced on his knees, hands covering his mouth. “He’s strong,” he said finally. “He’s okay.”
My throat burned. “I know.”
But I didn’t.
And until I heard Braden’s cry again, I wasn’t sure I ever would.
CHAPTER 39
Phoenix
Becket’s taillights disappeared at the bend, red fading to nothing against the black orchard. I stood in the doorway long after, my fingers clenched around the edge of the frame, trying to keep my brain from doing the math: minutes, distance, odds.
Elyna sat in the kitchen behind me, both hands around her phone like she could will it to ring. I heard the quiet click of her trying again to refresh the baby monitor app. Static. Nothing.
“I should be out there,” I said.
“You heard your brother,” she whispered. “They could circle back.”
“I don’t care.” The words came out harsher than I meant. I turned, met her eyes. “They took my family, Elyna. I’m not okay with sitting and waiting.”
She stood, jaw trembling but her voice steady. “Then don’t. Just don’t go alone.”
That stopped me for half a second when I noticed she was shaking while still having the bandwidth to worry about me doing something reckless. I loved her for that.
I crossed the kitchen and brushed my thumb along her cheek. “Lock everything. Don’t open the door for anyone but me or my dad. I’ll have the radio.”
“Phoenix. . .”
