Mia
Present Day
Beckett is hiding the truth about the police officer from me, and I don’t know why. He looks familiar, and Gabriella and Gracie said he’s their dad’s best friend, so I’m sure I saw him a lot when I was over at their house as a kid.
Why was Beckett so upset I told him who I was?
And now Ryland is on our shopping trip?
Ryland stands by the front door of the boutique, diligently scanning the store. Every time a new person enters, he puts his hand on his pocket. He is wearing a baggy, button-down shirt. It’s the opposite of his form fitting T-shirts I’ve seen him wear. It strikes me as odd that he changed into it. And why is he here?
Gabriella and Gracie have stocked my dressing room with items. There’s a black triangle-top bikini, a coverup, sundresses, shorts, and shirts.
I try everything on and decide to buy two dresses, a pair of shorts, and a shirt along with the bikini and coverup. When I get to the front desk, Gracie and Gabriella are coming out of the dressing rooms with a bigger pile than I have.
“Those are the only things you’re getting?” Gabriella asks.
I look at my pile. “That’s a lot.”
Gracie snorts. “Leave her alone, Gabriella. Not everyone is a shopaholic like you.”
Gabriella looks at her pile in the dressing room. “Says the queen of clothes herself.”
Gracie shrugs.
They go change and I take my items to the counter. The saleslady with a name badge that says “Veronica” takes my payment then hands me a bag.
“Your tattoo is pretty,” I tell her. A twisted heart in vibrant colors is inked near her collarbone.
She touches it. “Thanks.”
“What made you think of that? It’s really creative.”
She rubs it and shifts back and forth on her feet. “Umm...just someone I know has one, and I liked it.”
“Well the color is really nice, and the artist did a good job.”
She peers at me. “You look familiar.”
“I do?”
“Yes.” She tilts her head. “Have you visited the island before?”
“I grew up here but moved away a long time ago.”
She brushes strands of her blonde hair behind her ear. “What is your name?”
“Mia Crimson.”
The blood drains from her face. “Mia...as in Clay Crimson’s sister?”
The hair on my neck stands up. “Yes. Did you know him?”
She hesitates. “Yes. We...well, we use to hang out. I’m sorry. I thought you died in the shooting as well?”
I’m going to need to get used to everyone thinking I was dead.
“Still here.” I try to sound chipper.
“When did you get back to town?”
“About a week ago.”
“Oh. Umm...well, I’m glad to hear you survived,” she says quickly.
Okay, this is weird.
“Thanks.”
She starts ringing up Gracie’s items and says, “Still can’t believe Beckett shot your brother. He seemed so nice.”
“My brother didn’t—”
“Gracie!” Ryland calls out and approaches us.
Veronica’s face flushes. “Sorry. Beckett is your brother?”
“Yes,” Gracie and Gabriella both say.
“Wait a minute. So you all are hanging out?” She gazes between us all.
“Yes, you have a problem with that?” Gabriella says defensively.
She smirks. “Nope.”
“I think we’re done here.” Gracie turns to leave.
“Agree.” Gabriella follows.
Ryland stares at Veronica, his jaw clenched. I assume he’s upset at her comment about Beckett as well.
“Ryland, you ready?” I ask him quietly.
“Almost. I just have a quick question for you before I go, Veronica.”
She checks him out and bats her lashes at him. “Go on.”
“How did you know Clay and Beckett?”
She shifts uncomfortably, hesitates, but finally says, “I met them at the bonfires. Clay introduced me to Beckett a few times.”
“You and Clay, you two...dated?”
She scans his body then licks her lips while looking in his eyes. “I wouldn’t exactly call it dating. More like, we had a lot of fun together, if you get my drift.”
Oh gross. She fucked my brother.
At least she didn’t screw Beckett.
My stomach twists.
“Gotcha. Thanks, Veronica. Nice meeting you.” Ryland puts his hand on my back to lead me through the store.
“Why did you ask her that?” I ask him once we are out of the store. “And please tell me you aren’t interested in her.”
He laughs. “Not in a million years. Definitely not my type.”
“Okay, then why did you ask her that?”
His face turns solemn. “No reason. She just looks familiar.”
I don’t know why, but something about it nags at me, and my gut says not to believe him.
We go into several more shops. I buy another sundress, but I can’t get the incident with Veronica out of my mind, and Gracie and Gabriella are still steaming mad about it.
“I think we should call it a day,” I suggest.
“But you didn’t get that many things,” Gabriella said.
How many things do I need?
“Are you serious?”
“Yes, she is,” Ryland says, rolling his eyes.
“I’m happy with what I got. Plus, we can shop another day.”
“I think you just want to get back and see Beckett.” Gabriella wiggles her eyebrows at me.
My face flushes.
“Gabriella, stop teasing Mia,” Gracie says.
She groans. “Okay. We can call it a day. Let’s go see how your roof is coming along.”
“The roof is coming along fine, but Beckett and Hudson aren’t there,” Ryland informs us.
“Where are they? They left poor Connor to do the entire roof by himself?” Gracie asks.
Ryland grunts. “No. I had a crew come over to help Connor.”
“Poor Connor,” I moan.
Ryland taps the wheel. “He’s fine. It’s good for him.”
“Okay, so where did they go?” Gracie asks again.
“None of your business,” Ryland says, his jaw clenched again.
A bad feeling fills my heart. He looks at me and then quickly away.
Why is he avoiding looking at me?
“Ryland, drop me off at home so I can put all my clothes in my room,” Gabriella says.
“I’ll go with you. I need to talk to Mom,” Gracie says.
“Mia, you want to come with us?” Gabriella asks.
“No thanks. I have some things I need to do at home.”
Ryland drops Gabriella and Gracie off, and we drive down the street. He parks in my driveway. Several cars are there, and a slew of men are on the roof.
“Ryland.”
He looks at me. “Yeah.”
“Where’s Beckett?”
“With Hudson.”
“But where? What are they doing?”
“You’ll need to ask Beckett.”
“Why did he get upset that the police officer knows my name?”
Ryland looks away.
I put my hand on his arm. “Please tell me.”
He opens his mouth but then shuts it. He finally says, “Mia, anything you want to know, you need to talk to Beckett.”
I look down and see the butt of a gun sticking out of Ryland’s pocket. “Ryland, what is that in your pocket?”
He quickly repositions his shirt over it. “Nothing.”
“Are you carrying a gun?”
“Yes. I have my concealed weapons permit. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
“Why are you carrying it while we’re shopping?”
“Because I felt like it.”
“Bullshit.”
He sighs. “Look, it’s my gun, and I’ll carry it where I want to.”
“Do I need to start carrying my gun with me, too?”
His head jerks to me. “You have a gun?”
“Why do you look surprised?”
“Does Beckett know you have a gun?”
I don’t say anything.
“Mia, why do you have a gun?”
“Why do you have a gun?”
“Answer my question, Mia.”
“Why? You don’t seem to answer any of mine.”
Ryland rubs the heel of his hand against his forehead. “Do you really have a gun?” he asks like he doesn’t believe me.
I don’t say anything and get out of the truck. Ryland jumps out and follows me into the house.
“Mia. Tell me if you’re serious.”
I go directly to my grandparents’ bedroom, open up the safe, and remove my handgun. I turn around, and Ryland is gaping at me.
“Any other questions.”
“Yes. Why do you have a gun?”
“You ever been shot, Ryland? Ever watch someone you love take their last breath after being shot?”
Ryland’s eyes are wide. “No.”
“There’s your answer. Now, why do you have a gun?”
His eyes flitter from mine to the gun. “Protection.”
“From who?”
“Anyone who wants to hurt my family.”
“Who’s out to hurt your family?”
He looks away.
“Is that police officer out to hurt your family?”
His face hardens.
“Is he out to hurt me?”
Ryland sighs but still won’t look at me.
“Ryland, where’s Beckett?”
“You’ll have to ask Beckett that,” he repeats.
“Just tell me,” I cry out.
“Tell you what?” Beckett says through the doorway, then, “Whoa. Mia! What are you doing with a gun?”
I roll my eyes. “I think you have questions to answer first, Beckett.”
“I’m going to go check on the roofers.” Ryland glances at Beckett and steps past him.
Beckett stands a few inches from me. “Mia, why do you have a gun?” he repeats sternly.
“Where were you?”
“With Hudson.”
“Doing what?”
Just like Ryland, Beckett clenches his jaw and looks away.
“Damn it, Beckett. Tell me. I can’t handle being left in the dark anymore.”
“Mia, can you put that gun away?”
“Fine.” I put it back and lock the safe up. “Now, stop keeping me in the dark.”
He wraps his arms around me. “I’m not trying to make you feel left out.”
“Then tell me what’s going on.”
He hugs me tighter. “I can’t. You have to trust me.”
“Tell me why that police officer wants to hurt your family.”
He gapes. “Who told you that?”
“I guessed it, and Ryland didn’t deny it.”
He shakes his head. “I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“Mia, I won’t put you in danger.”
“Don’t you mean more danger?”
Beckett closes his eyes.
I clasp his cheeks. “You have to tell me everything.”
“I can’t,” he whispers.
I shove out of his arms and go out to the kitchen.
“Mia. Don’t walk away from me, angry.”
I sarcastically laugh. “I wish you would listen to yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m not stupid. That police officer wants to hurt your family. He wants to hurt me. We’re all in danger, and you won’t tell anyone what is going on.”
“Why can’t you trust that there is a reason I can’t tell you. I would never do anything to hurt you. I’m trying to protect you.”
I glare at him.
“A gun alone isn’t going to protect you, Mia. Do you even know how to shoot it?”
“Of course I do.”
He freezes.
“Give me a target, and I’ll hit the bullseye.”
His eyes grow wide. “When did you learn to shoot a gun?”
“At eighteen.”
“Why?”
“You really have to ask me that?”
He scans my eyes. “Someone could get hurt. You could get hurt.”
Anger flares in my bones. “Stop acting like I’m the thirteen-year-old girl who’s innocent and doesn’t know anything. I may not be interesting, or good with people, or know how to use a cell phone, but I know how to protect myself.”
Beckett cocks his head to the side. “I think you’re interesting, and you’re good with people. I don’t know why you say that.”
I roll my eyes at him and ignore his comment. “I may lack social skills, but do you know what a lot of time by yourself does, Beckett?”
His eyes lock into mine. “It makes you think and obsess.”
I raise my eyebrow at him, surprised. But I shouldn’t be. Beckett’s been alone for ten years, too.
“What do you obsess over, Mia,” he says quietly.
I look away.
He steps forward and turns my chin so I’m looking at him. “Tell me.”
“That night. You. Not being a victim ever again.”
“I’m sorry I threw you down. I should have tried to get you out the door.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You tried to save me.”
“But I didn’t. And it won’t happen again.”
“What do you mean, Beckett?”
He looks at the ceiling.
My heart races. “Beckett, what are you planning?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re lying.”
He cups my cheeks. “Can you trust me? Please.”
As I stare into his eyes, I realize I can’t. If he isn’t going to tell me the truth of what happened and who’s involved, then I never will fully trust him. “No. Not if you can’t tell me the entire truth.”
“Mia, I can’t. It’s for everyone’s safety.”
I push out of his arms and blink back tears. “Then we’re done here.”
“What do you mean?”
My insides quiver and a tear drips down my cheek. “I can’t do this with you.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Then tell me the truth, Beckett,” I cry out.
“I can’t,” he quietly states.
“Then neither can I.” I snatch my purse, trot into my grandparents’ room, and unlock the safe. Taking the gun out, I double-check the safety is on and put it in my purse.
“What are you doing?” Beckett asks.
“Leaving.”
“Where to?”
I brush past him, remove one of the new sundresses from my shopping bag, go into my bedroom, and remove my up-north warm clothes.
Beckett stares at me as I change and repeats, “Where are you going?”
I ignore him, go to the front door, and slip my sandals on.
“Mia! Answer me,” he barks.
“I don’t know. I need space, and there’s too much going on here,” I say in a loud voice.
“Why are you taking your gun?”
I spin on him. “Because there’s a cop who somehow is involved in my brother’s death and you going to prison for ten years. I doubt he’s the only one, and word is getting out I’m back. So since you don’t trust me enough to tell me, I’ll just have to figure out who is good and who is bad.”
“Mia—”
I open the door. “Don’t, Beckett.” I race to my car and get inside it.
He comes after me and tries to open the door, but I locked it.
“Mia!” He pounds on my window.
There are cars parked behind me, so I pull over the lawn and drive away with tears in my eyes. I love Beckett. I’ve always loved Beckett. But I don’t know how I can be with him if he isn’t going to tell me what happened and who’s involved.