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Shelley cried out. Carlo tightened his hold. Bo wanted to run, to tackle the fucker, but he couldn’t risk it. Beth’s left ear was bleeding. Her face was so pale. He couldn’t stand the thought of her hitting the floor, her body still forever, her strong heart silenced.

Bo got to his knees, his hands behind his back. “Shelley, you’ve got to do as the man says.”

“Excellent, Mr. O’Malley. Mrs. Hughes, bind the young man’s hands, and then this one here will bind yours. We’re going to see how well Miss Hobbes knows this house. Bryce was convinced his partner hid a half a million dollars worth of cocaine somewhere in this house. You can find it, or I’ll start killing your friends.”

“I can find it,” Beth promised, her eyes finding Bo’s as Shelley slipped the zip tie on and tightened it. Bo could feel Shelley’s hands shaking.

Bo had to pray Beth could do what she’d promised.

* * *

Trev pulled into the rickety trailer park and sighed. The whole place had an air of neglect he recognized. This was one of those desperate places. Every city and suburb had them. Every small town, too. This was a place without hope and that very few escaped from. It was definitely the place to get drugs.

It had been remarkably easy to get the information he wanted. Everyone was willing to buy that he wanted to score. Apparently Marty had come through, drinking and asking the same questions. He’d been looking for drugs for his client. No wonder no one believed him when he said he was straight. His former agent had blown his reputation before he’d even had a chance to settle in.

No one even questioned it. He’d hauled himself into The Rusty Spur and in fifteen minutes knew where to go for meth.

Nelson Hall. Bryce’s good friend. Nelson Hall, who had sent his son to do his dirty work, who obviously let his son test the product.

He stopped the truck. There were three teens standing around smoking.

“Hey, can you tell me where to find Nelson Hall?” Trev asked.

The only female of the group pointed down a thin, gravel road. “He’s the last one on the road, but I don’t think he’s there. His son is.”

Apparently juvie wasn’t what it used to be if Austin Hall was already out. Trev nodded and prepared himself. It was a stupid plan, and he couldn’t help himself. He had to know. He started down the road.

Fuck, what was he doing? He was putting himself in harm’s way. He was going on a drug buy. He wasn’t supposed to be getting close to this life again, but he had to. He was supposed to be working O’Malley’s herd, marking time until he came into his money and got the chance to work his own herd. He wasn’t even going to stay in this town. He was leaving. He’d just needed a little distraction.

A vision of Beth between himself and Bo assaulted him, her body twisting as she tried to kiss them both, her heart big enough to handle both men.

He’d started the relationship because she’d seemed to need him, and he’d needed a distraction.

Some fucking distraction.

She’d wormed her way into his heart, and he wasn’t sure if he could live without her. It was his lot in life to never be able to do anything halfway. The only time he didn’t feel was when he was drunk. Love for Beth was rolling in his veins and with it the acknowledgement that he loved Bo, too. Bo was the brother he’d never had, the person who might have been able to save him if Trev had given him half a chance.

Could he make it work? Did he even have the right to try?

Trev stopped the truck in front of a ramshackle single-wide that had seen way better days. Austin Hall sat on the steps outside the trailer.

The kid looked far older than his sixteen years. His face was covered in sores, and when he smiled, Trev could see that his teeth were already showing the effects of meth. Thank god he’d never gotten into meth.

“Should have known you would show up. When dad heard you got back into town, he said we should up production.”

Trev just managed to not clock the little shit. The need to kill the kid was right there. He’d taken a shot at Beth. But hurting some sixteen-year-old meth head who probably didn’t have much of a chance of seeing his seventeenth birthday wouldn’t fix things. He let his face go slack and tried to keep his hat slung low so no one noticed how clear his eyes were. “I need a fix, man. Bryce Hughes told me this was the place to come.”

He flashed a wad of cash to let the kid know he was serious.

“Bryce would know.” The kid was dressed in jeans and a hoodie, his sneakers worn. Earbuds dangled around his neck.

 “Hey, shouldn’t you be in jail or something? I heard you took a shot at someone.”

Trev held his breath. Either the kid would buy that Trev’s brother-in-law would send him here, or he would walk away.

The kid shrugged. “That was a mistake. No one was supposed to be in that house. I wasn’t trying to kill the bitch, and then her dumb-ass boyfriend caught me. Luckily, we got a judge or something on tape fucking a prostitute. So I’m out. No one can keep me in jail. Bryce slapped the fuck out of me, though. Your brother-in-law is an asshole. Did he find the shit?”

Austin hopped off the steps. He had a cigarette in his hand.

Trev tried to play it cool. So Bryce was looking for something, was he? And he was willing to involve a kid, to hurt a kid over it.

He would be willing to hurt Beth and Shelley, too.

“He’s not my blood, man. I don’t claim him. And no. He hasn’t found a thing. He’s panicked about it, too.” Trev shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to look a little desperate.

The kid took a drag off his cigarette. “Dad told him he shouldn’t have gotten involved with those mob guys. That’s some bad shit, but you know Bryce. He talked about moving upmarket. I don’t know why we had to start dealing coke. No one does coke out here. He’s turned us all into some freaking middle men, you know. Like we’re some kind of business with plans and shit. Dad’s been cutting the pure stuff Bryce brings back from South America and selling it to gangs and the freaking mafia. Stupid asshole. Now they’re going to come down on all our heads, and all because he pissed off his partner.”

A wealth of things began to fall into place. Bryce was in deep, and he was going to drag everyone down with him. “He thinks Barry stashed something in the old Bellows place?”

Austin laughed. “Ain’t that funny? Old Maudine Bellows died not even knowing she had a half a million dollars worth of coke in her house. Barry hid it good, too. I couldn’t find it. I don’t know how anyone could find fucking anything in that house. Talk about a hoarder. I could barely move when I searched the garage. Hey, is that why you’re fucking that girl? Does Bryce have you looking for it, too? Dude, he promised me ten grand if I found it.”

Nausea rolled. His brother-in-law was the money behind the county’s drugs. And apparently he’d been blackmailing politicians. How far was he in? There was no question about it. Shelley and Beth would be in Dallas by nightfall under the protective glare of Julian Lodge. He would set Ben and Chase, the super twins, on this and protect his family.

His family.

Beth and Bo were his family. He couldn’t pretend. He couldn’t say he would take it one day at a time and let life sort itself out. They were his. They would be his tomorrow. They would be in his heart no matter what he did, and if he walked away, he would regret it for the rest of his life.

He knew enough. He needed to get them out of town. He had no deep desire to play the hero.

“So, how much do you want?”

Trev stared at the kid before realizing what he was asking. “Uh, I changed my mind. I’ll just go get a beer.”