Page 58 of Everything We Found

“They don’t know that. Pray he stays that way for all our sakes. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m needed in Mexico.” Thomas pushed up from the chair. “I’m becoming quite adept at damage control.”

“I’m going to tell Aimee,” she announced before he reached the door. Before she realized what she was saying. “That I knew.”

Thomas stopped. “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

“She deserves to know the truth, regardless of the consequences. I think she’ll forgive me, eventually. But I need to tell her.”

He slowly turned back and came over to her. His hands tenderly cradled her face, at complete odds with his brittleabruptness but a moment ago. She watched with fascination as the storm that had been behind his eyes cleared. There was so much longing in his expression, such deep adoration as he looked upon her, all mixed up with his regret on her behalf. But that wouldn’t make sense. He didn’t think of her in any regard but as a younger sister. Someone he felt he needed to look out for.

He leaned his forehead against hers and his thumb caressed her cheek with trembling reverence. “Sometimes,” he said barely above a whisper, “the truth is more damaging than the lie.” Then he kissed her, a soft, lingering touch of their lips that suspended time before his head snapped back and eyes darted to the side.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. This was a mistake,” he muttered, refusing to look at her.

Then he left.

Nadia stared at the door, her fingers pressing to her mouth, to lips still warm from… Amistake.

Asshole.

Smoothing her skirt, she returned to her desk on legs that had no business being as unsteady as they were, hating him even more.

He didn’t just leave. He’d left her knowing exactly what his lips felt like on hers. What they tasted like.

And she’d never be able to unknow it.

18

THOMAS

PRESENT DAY

Thomas exchanged a quick glance with Nadia before they followed Cammy back to the ranch house, their shoes kicking up dust as they jogged across the yard. Cammy’s urgent request set him on edge. But the faint sounds of the news broadcast as they marched up the porch pushed his unease into full-blown panic.

Cammy threw open the front screen door. He grabbed the screen before it hit the wall and bounced back and nudged Nadia into the house before him, his hand on the small of her back. In the living room, the television glowed with chaotic aerial footage—tactical officers swarming a beachfront home while gunfire erupted from inside. The air evacuated from his lungs in one brutal whoosh when the camera zoomed in.

“That’s James’s house,” he said.

Nadia’s head rotated sharply to look at him. “What?”

He grabbed the remote off the coffee table and raised the volume.

“—dramatic video captured by celebrated filmmaker Eric Watanabe, who was shooting footage of Hanalei Bay for an environmental documentary when he witnessed the beginningof the assault and what appeared to be a coordinated attack on this beachfront property. Authorities have confirmed a firefight between police and multiple armed suspects…”

Thomas stood motionless, barely registering the remote’s plastic edges pressing deeply into his palms. Nadia moved closer to the screen. “What’s happening?”

“Just watch,” Cammy said, grim. “They’ll replay it.”

The footage started again and Thomas couldn’t tear his eyes away. Dark figures emerged from the water in broad daylight, moving with lethal precision over the sand and across the expanse of grass to James and Natalya’s home. Two police officers, the ones Kane had told him had been stationed to watch the property, took cover behind the patrol car’s open doors. Several shots were fired before both officers were taken out.

Then the suspects turned to the house. They breached James’s home within seconds.

Nadia cupped her hands over her mouth. “My god.”

Thomas broke out in a nervous sweat at his helplessness. He was thousands of miles away and an ocean apart. There wasn’t a thing he could do to protect James and his family other than watch their hell unfold, his mind conjuring a multitude of terrible images of what could be happening inside.

“The suspects appeared from the water,” a reporter voiced over the video, “suggesting they approached by boat…”

The words barely registered with Thomas, his thoughts consumed with questions. What was happening inside the house? Where were James, Natalya and the boys? He begged the universe that they weren’t home. That James had had enough sense to listen to him and go into hiding.