I’m feeling frazzled by the time I deposit the laundry basket where it goes and head toward the kitchen. Ronan stands at the sink munching on an apple. His glasses are slightly askew, and his hair is messy. Such a cute kid. One day, he’ll find someone to appreciate how wonderful he is. Someone other than Raegan.

  “Hey, Mom,” Ronan says, wiping his chin with the back of his hand. “What’s for dinner?”

  Having six sons means someone is “starving” all the time. Usually, it’s Ryder or Kota. But today, it looks like Ronan is the hungry one.

  “Here, take your brother, and I’ll get supper started,” I say, swiveling to offer him my back. “He may need a diaper change.”

  Dawson squeals when he sees Ronan. The weight of my baby is soon lifted, and my aching shoulders thank me. I press a kiss to each of their foreheads before shedding the baby carrier and heading over to the pantry.

  Our pantry is the best part of our house. Reed and I talked for hours when we planned out the build. My vision was for it to be huge—always filled with food to keep our family fed. The shelves are floor-to-ceiling, and it’s roomy. Everyday foods—like breads, produce, and snacks for the kids—are housed toward the front. Eggs, dried meats, filtered and bottled water, and all the excess stuff remains in the back. At the very back of the pantry is a door that leads outside and down to the root cellar, where we store potatoes, onions, turnips, carrots, and other fruits or vegetables.

  Knowing there’s enough to keep everyone’s bellies filled through winter or slow game seasons is just one less thing I have to worry about.

  I grab an armful of things I’ll need for supper and make my way back into the kitchen. Dawson has stolen Ronan’s apple and slobbers all over it as he attempts to eat it with his tiny teeth.

  “It’s his now,” Ronan grumbles. “This kid drools a lot.”

  I smile as I start peeling potatoes. “All you kids did at that age.”

  We chatter, just the two of us, about everything from the chickens to the book Ronan is currently reading while Dawson sucks on the apple. He tells me a story of aliens and the strange world they live on. By the time he finishes regaling me, I have the potatoes boiling, and I’m pulling the fish fillets from the refrigerator.

  “Hopefully Atticus thinks to bring us some baking soda,” I grumble as the stinky fish smell wafts over me. “Or more candles. I could use more candles.”

  “I’m hoping he brings more books than last time,” Ronan says. “I went through the last stack way too fast.”

  After I season the fish and slide the trays into the oven, I sit at the kitchen table for a quick rest. Ronan’s staring out the front window. I follow his gaze to where Raegan is chasing after Ryder, who clearly has something she wants. Those two just never stop.

  “Had enough of those two today?” I ask, gesturing at the window.

  Ronan laughs. “Nah, just missed seeing my momma.”

  I smirk at him. He’s always been my sweet boy who knows what to say in every situation. I’m proud of the wonderful man he’s become.

  “You excited to see Wild?” I arch a brow at him. “I know how much you adore him.”

  His cheeks turn red, and he fidgets in his seat, absently playing with Dawson’s hair. “Yeah, he’s cool.”

  Wild is a lot of things.

  And he definitely likes to think of himself as cool.

  He’s a mess, is what he is. I’ve observed the way he picks at Raegan whenever he’s here. I won’t lie and say I don’t secretly root for them to fall for each other, but that won’t happen anytime soon.

  Raegan can’t stand Wild.

  I’m about to go back over to the stove to check the potatoes when Raegan bursts into the house. She hollers about Ryder and stomps into the kitchen.

  “Mom! Do something about your bratty kid!”

  I turn to find her standing in the kitchen, hands on her hips and tapping her foot incessantly. “Which one?”

  She groans and rolls her eyes. Even when she’s being the bratty kid, she’s beautiful. A spitting image of her father. Me and Reed sure do make some pretty babies.

  “Ryder, the rotten piece of sh—”

  She’s cut off by Ryder’s booming voice. “Mom!”

  Ronan shoots me an exasperated look. Never a dull moment with Ryder and Raegan. Never.

  “What?” I call out, lifting a brow at a fuming Raegan. “I’m in here.”

  Ryder stalks into the kitchen, pushes past his sister, and stands right in front of me. He’s strong, built of solid muscle, and towers over me. But tattling on his sister reminds me of when he was five.

  “She kicked me,” he growls, thrusting a finger at his sister.

  “Raegan,” I start, shooting her a frown. “Why did you kick your brother?”

  “Because he’s a thief!” she bellows. “Stay out of my stuff, thief!”

  Ryder growls. “For fuuuu-dge sake. I can’t steal what already belongs to me!”

  “Nice save,” I mutter, side-eyeing him for almost dropping an F-bomb in my kitchen. “And this had better not be about that stupid knife again.”

  “It’s always about the knife,” Ronan chimes in. “Maybe I should take it.”

  Ryder and Raegan bark a vehement “No,” in unison.

  “The knife is about to go in the river,” I threaten. “Now, both of you get washed up and help me set the table for supper.”

  “Dad needs me,” Ryder blurts out, taking off out of the kitchen at a breakneck speed.

  I shake my head and then pin Raegan with a hard stare. “Don’t you dare.”

  After a small hissy fit, she finally relents and passes out plates.

  This house is nothing but chaos, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “I can’t believe you hid a bag of marshmallows from me,” I grumble to Reed with narrowed eyes. “That’s grounds for divorce.”

  He jerks his head my way but still manages to help Declan put his marshmallow on his stick. “What’s that, wifey?”

  I pat Dawson’s bottom, happy he finally fell asleep after a mini meltdown after supper. Soon, I’ll take him inside to put him down for the night. Until then, I’ll continue to enjoy poking at my bear.

  “What’s a divorce?” Kota asks, cocking his head to the side.

  “Something your momma isn’t allowed to have,” Reed growls. “Right, babe?”

  I shrug my shoulders. “I mean, if you hold out on me when it comes to sweets, I might have to get one. That’s just rude.”

  He flashes me a dark look that promises a palm to my ass later. I shiver despite the roaring fire going in the pit. He’s momentarily distracted when Declan starts crying because his marshmallow caught fire.

  We come out to the fire pit often in the evenings. Of course, the older kids are too cool to hang out with their parents, but Destiny and the three younger boys enjoy this time together.

  “Here,” Destiny says from nearby. “You can have mine, Deck.”

  Declan sniffles before running over to his sister. She helps as he messily eats the marshmallow. I’m still grinning at them when a shadow looms over me. Reed holds a blackened marshmallow on the end of a stick just out of reach.

  “That for me, Daddy?”

  His nostrils flare, and his tongue runs along his bottom lip. If we didn’t have an audience, he’d probably toss me over his shoulder and take me away to do dirty things.

  “You can’t ever leave me,” he says, eyes hotter than the fire. “Ever, Pip. You’re mine. Always.”

  I melt under his possessive words. “Next time I get my period, don’t hold out on me. You know I love marshmallows.”

  A slow, sinister grin curls his lips up. “Beautiful, you’re not getting your period for a long-ass time.”

  He’s so sure of himself and his baby-making skills.

  “I’m serious,” I say, standing my ground. “I can handle a lot, but if you ever withhold marshmallows from me again, you’ll see my breaking point.”

  “Noted,” he says with a smirk. He leans in over the baby to kiss my lips. “Now eat this before you lose your shit.”

  He plucks the gooey marshmallow off the stick and then crams it into my mouth. I glower at him despite the wonderful taste. When he smears the sticky residue from his fingers on the tip of my nose, I’m the one shooting him a threatening glare.

  “You’re an asshole,” I mutter low enough the kids don’t hear.

  “And you defied the law to be with me.”

  Touché.

  Chapter 3

  Reed

  I’m not eager to leave my bed. Not when Devon clings to me, body hot and slick with sweat. Early morning sex is both the best and the worst. The best because the house is quiet, and the moment is all ours while we lose ourselves to the passion that always burns between us. It’s the worst, though, because once I’ve fucked my beautiful girl, I’m too relaxed to do shit.

  And I have too much shit to do today.

  With summer nearly over, there’s a never-ending list of projects to be completed before it starts getting cold. The boys will help hunt and trap game to stock up for winter, and the girls will do their part harvesting what they can from the gardens, but those things take time. Long days from sunup to sundown. No time for lazing around with my naked wife.

  Still, I don’t move.

  I stroke my fingers up and down her bare arm, nuzzling my nose in her hair. Her scent is always the same. From the moment I first held her in my arms as my responsibility, my treasure, and my little girl to now. She’s my partner, my lover, my everything. I love Devon more than words could even express.

  She’s not some drug I’m addicted to.

  Devon is the very air I breathe. She’s life and joy and pleasure all wrapped into a beautiful package. Taking her all those years ago was necessary. I had to have her to survive. And because of that, I’m still here. A man past my prime but feral and strong and protective like a beastly creature of the forest.

  Without her, I’d have died long ago because I’d be incomplete. Half a person. Fucking empty and soulless.

  Her thigh is casually draped over mine. My dick is no longer erect but still wet and dripping from being inside her. The warm air is quickly drying me, and soon I’ll be sticky with the remnants of our cum.

  I need to get up and clean us.

  A soft creak has both of us stiffening. I’m unable to locate the sheet to cover our nudity and post-sex state before one of our children steps into the room.

  In the dim, early morning light, I sigh in relief. It’s just Destiny. Though she can see shapes, there’s no way she will get a detailed glimpse of us or what we’ve been up to.

  “Daddy?”

  Devon sits up, snatching the sheet from the floor, and swoops it over the both of us. I sit up on my elbows and take in Destiny’s bedraggled state. She looks so much like Devon at that age. My heart squeezes with love.

  “Yes, baby girl?”

  She slowly makes her way over to us, steps measured and slow because of her disability, unlike the rest of our crazy children. When her knees hit the foot of our bed, she frowns. “Raegan’s not in our room.”

  All warmness leeches from my body as a cold chill settles in my bones. “Did you check the couch or the bathrooms?”

  Devon is already out of bed, throwing on her nightgown. “So help me if she’s in Ronan’s cabin. . .”

  My chest tightens at the thought of catching her in bed with her brother. I’d have to send him away because that shit can’t happen.

  “I’m sure she’ll turn up around here somewhere,” I grumble. “Pip, turn the house upside down. I’ll check with the boys.”

  Minutes later, I’m fully dressed and storming out of the house toward the two cabins on the other side of our fenced-in property. I make a beeline for Ronan’s cabin since Devon has her suspicions. Unlike Ryder’s cabin, which has discarded boots scattered by his front door, Ronan’s porch is immaculate.

  Without warning, I fling open his door, ready to tear him and Raegan each a new asshole. Except, when I scan the bed, it’s just Ronan. He jolts up with a terrified yelp and then grabs for his glasses on the table. Once they’re on, he relaxes at seeing me.

  “Dad? What’s wrong?”

  Guilt burns hot in my gut. My kids are good kids. Me and Devon are just paranoid, is all.

  “We can’t find Raegan,” I say with a sigh. “Get dressed and help me look for her.”

  While he dresses, I step out and head next door. It’s a long shot to think she’ll be here, but I check anyway. Ryder is sprawled out on his stomach, buck-ass naked and lightly snoring.

  “Where’s your sister?” I bark out.

  The kid sleeps like the dead and doesn’t even flinch at my intrusion. I pick his jeans up from the floor and toss them at him. This finally wakes him, and he groggily looks my way.

  “Get dressed, Ry. Raegan is missing.”

  He rolls his eyes and pulls the pillow over his head, grumbling about that being a good thing. At least I know she’s not here.

  There’s only one other son’s cabin she could be in, though they don’t exactly have a close relationship. Still, I would be remiss if I didn’t at least check.

  Twenty minutes later, I’ve left our property, gone down the cliffside stairs, and hiked over to me and Devon’s old cabin where Rowdy lives. Our oldest needed his privacy and has it. However, if I find my damn daughter in his bed, heads are going to roll. Privacy will be a thing of the past.

  His door is barred closed from the inside, so I beat on it with my fist until I hear heavy footsteps thudding my way. The wood-on-wood scraping sound can be heard as he removes the blockade, and the door opens.

  I’m greeted with the barrel of his shotgun. He immediately lowers it when he registers that it’s me.

  “Dad? What are you doing here?”

  Grunting, I shoulder past him into his space. This small home is where we raised the older kids before me and Atticus built the big house. It’s where I took Devon’s virginity and made her mine. It’s also where I had to watch strangers assault her. Where I killed men for touching her and trying to take her away from me. Rowdy’s cabin holds both good and bad memories for me.

  I scan the entire space, including the cave inlet at the back of the cabin. Nothing.

  Where the fuck is my daughter?

  Annoyance and frustration begin to melt away as pure panic takes over. Did she run away? Did someone take her?

  “Raegan’s gone,” I croak out, voice shaking with fear. “Help me find her.”

  I leave my stunned son to dress and hoof it back up to the big house, where I find a worried Ronan and a cranky Ryder standing by the gate.

  “Did you find her?” Ronan asks, brows pinching together. “Mom said she’s not in the house.”

  “No,” I bark out. “I want you two searching everywhere. The equipment barn, the animal pens, the gardens, the orchard, the smokehouse, the—”

  “Everywhere,” Ryder interrupts. “Got it. We’ll find her, Dad. Don’t worry.”

  But I am worried.

  With each passing moment that she’s gone, my stomach sours, and the worst imaginable scenarios start playing in my head like some kind of fucked up horror show.

  What if she decided to go hunting and got attacked by a wild animal?

  What if she’s dead?

  I stop near the fire pit on the way to find Devon and dry heave. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my daughter. Losing Devon’s brother Drew nearly killed me. My heart is too weak to go through something so horrific again.

  Devon bursts out of the front door, Dawson in her arms. Her eyes are teary, and her cheeks are red. Seeing the pure panic in her expression has me dry heaving again. Kota and Declan pop up behind Devon and gape at me.

  This time, acidic bile makes it up my throat, and I puke into the grass. All three boys begin to cry along with their mother, her sobs growing the loudest.

  “Where is she, Reed?” Devon croaks. “Oh my God. We have to find her.”

  I know this, but I can’t think. My brain is jumbled, and all I can see is her mangled body shredded to bits by a fucking bear.

  “Do you think someone took her?” Devon asks, voice going shrill. “What if they stole my baby from me? What if they hurt her?”

  Devon was Raegan’s age when she was brutally raped by those monsters. It nearly broke her. I had to nurse my girl back to a healthy mental state, and it was no easy feat. Imagining such terrible shit happening to Raegan is enough to have me collapse to my knees. The world goes dark around me.

  Reed. Reed. Reed. Reed. Reed.

  Devon’s chanting voice gets smaller and further away as the darkness closes in around me.

  Smack!

  Pain rips me from the void, and I snap my head up to find Devon glowering at me, hand shaking and poised to smack me again.

  “Breathe, goddammit. I can’t lose you, too,” she shrieks. “You’re having a panic attack, Reed, but I need you to get it together.”

  On her command, I suck in a long breath, filling my oxygen-starved lungs. Tears prickle in my eyes, but I quickly blink them away. Devon is right. My family needs me. They need me to hunt down our little girl wherever she may be and bring her home.

  I can do this.

  I will find her.

  Shakily, I rise to my feet and give my wife a clipped nod. I make my way into the house to locate a weapon. If I encounter any adversaries on my hunt, I will kill them without a second’s hesitation. Anything to protect my child.

  By the time I exit the big house, the entire family—aside from Raegan—is gathered by the fire pit. Each one of us wears a worried expression. I scrub a palm over my face, noting my fingers still smell like Devon. Her scent calms me and gives me the strength to continue on.

  “Rowdy, check down by the river and over at Eve’s old place.” I point toward the river and gesture at the fence near the goat pen. “Ronan, check all the lookout posts. Ryder, you can search all her favorite hangout spots outside the fence, and I’ll check the west side woods. Meet back here in an hour if you haven’t found her.”

 

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