Page 1 of Mine to Protect

CHAPTERONE

Shelby Manzo gripped her cell as she sat in her brother’s hotel room, which looked like a twister had touched down in the center and snaked through the space while doing as much damage as possible. Her heart hammered in the center of her chest. She blinked and did her best to take a deep breath, though her lungs didn’t completely inflate with oxygen. She glanced around the room again. Some of her brother’s things were on the bed, while a pair of pants and two shirts were bunched up on the floor.

That wasn’t like Chris. To call him a neat freak would be a total understatement. He was the kind of person that, if she moved a lamp in his family room and he walked in, he’d notice in a heartbeat and fix it just as fast.

At least, sober Chris would.

Her heart rate kicked up, pushing against her rib cage. The acid in her gut was churning double-time. The worry over her brother consumed her both emotionally and physically. She rubbed her hands together in a lame attempt to keep them from shaking. She couldn’t believe her brother would go missing in Lighthouse Cove, of all places. It was as if he’d decided to land in the one place where her past would collide with her present in a ball of wicked fire, twisting her insides and making it impossible to take a normal breath.

And of all the cops who might take the call, it would be someone related to Rhett Kirby.

Her mind flew back to Key West for a brief moment.

The sun.

The sand.

And Rhett.

He’d been so attentive, and yet he’d given her all the space and freedom she’d never had before. Those three short weeks had shown her what everyone else in the world had. She put those memories in a little box and cherished them.

Shelby squared her shoulders and forced herself back to the present.

Part of her was grateful for the Kirby family. For their familiarity. Rhett had spoken highly of his police brothers.

And mother.

The fact that they’d come to the hotel to go through it with her, told her there was some merit to her concern.

She shivered. If Chris was using, his disappearance wasn’t necessarily criminal, and she knew that. However, something in the back of her mind told her that things didn’t add up.

“You mentioned that you tried to file a missing persons report on”—Emmerson Kirby glanced at his notepad—“Chris. When was that?”

“Two days ago when I noticed his phone was turned off.”

“Why?”

“Because I hadn’t heard from him for two days before that,” she said.

“Is that unusual?” Emmerson asked.

“Very,” she said. “We talk almost every day, even if it’s just one or two texts. But he didn’t respond. Or answer my calls. So, I tried tracking him. That’s when I noticed it was turned off.”

“Do you always track your brother’s phone?” Emmerson asked.

She’d only met one of Rhett’s brothers during their short love affair—if one could call it that—and that had been Emmett, not Emmerson, though by the looks of it, they were nearly interchangeable in looks and personality, at least to a certain degree.

When she met Rhett, he had been following some guy for Emmett while in Key West. They’d turned it into a game, and Shelby had loved it. She’d enjoyed playing private eye with Rhett. She’d never experienced that kind of rush before in all her life. It made her heart pump like a lion waiting to pounce on its prey.

At the time, she hadn’t known she’d been falling in love with Rhett. She’d thought she was simply getting lost in the moment. Not giving her soul to a man. However, when she packed her suitcase and tossed it into the back of her car, her heart broke into a million pieces. The entire ride back north was filled with guttural sobs and the kind of physical pain that she didn’t think would ever go away. However, she had a brother to take care of and a life to get back to.

She breathed in slowly through her nose as Emmett rummaged through her brother’s things in the bathroom with a pair of gloves, and Rhett’s mother stood outside the hotel room. It felt as though they were treating the room like a crime scene. She wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. But it made her feel as though her brother was the criminal. Not the victim.

At least they were taking it all seriously—unlike the police officer in Jacksonville.

“Yes,” she said. “He could track me, as well.” She didn’t know why she felt the need to tell Emmerson that, but it somehow made it seem less weird. Many families used the find my device apps for various reasons, whether it be for safety, to spy, or to see why a friend was late. It was a helpful tool. She and Chris used to joke about how they should turn it off. But they hadn’t. They’d both agreed that it gave them a sense of connectivity—especially after their father died.

Chris also admitted that it gave him comfort that at least one person always knew where he was…just in case.

---