BLUE
I hadno choice but to have Marshal take me back to Atlanta.
The calls from North Dakota wouldn’t stop. They kept lighting up my phone, over and over again and I couldn’t bring myself to answer it. It was either my mom or my sister, and the timing of dad being in the hospital was too much of a coincidence. I needed to get back to him. I needed to see him with my own eyes and make sure he was okay.
I’d already called the hospital. Just mentioning that I was Blair Brooks had been enough to get me transferred straight to the nurse caring for him. She told me he was sleeping peacefully, that his numbers looked good, and even hinted he might be able to go home in the morning. Relief washed through me, even though the knot in my stomach refused to ease. When I asked if he’d had any other visitors or phone calls, she said no, which added another layer of relief.
It would be crazy to think of my sister coming all the way to Atlanta, but it wasn’t out of the question, either. She didn’t care if Dad was sick. She just cared if the money stopped. Maybe he’d told her he was in the hospital. Maybe she’d called me for that reason alone. It was the only thing that made sense.
As we got closer to Fiddlers, instinct had me glance out the window, expecting to see the place dark and empty. But it wasn’t. Lights blazed inside, and two cop cars sat in the parking lot, red and blue flashing against the glass windows.
“Oh my God.” I jolted upright. “Pull in—pull in now!”
Marshal barely had time to brake before I flung the door open and bolted across the lot. My heart pounded as I saw Linc and Captain Davis hauling the Murphy brothers out in handcuffs.
“What happened?” I shouted, breathless, my eyes darting past them for West.
Neither man answered right away. Captain Davis’s gaze softened, though, and he finally said, “Blue, Miles is inside. Go talk to them. We need to get these two booked.”
I didn’t wait for more. I sprinted past, glass crunching under my shoes, only to skid to a halt when I saw Miles standing in the middle of chaos. The bar was a wreck with shattered glass, busted furniture, and the front door hanging open like the place had been gutted.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
Miles’s head snapped up when he saw me. He rushed over, steady hands closing around my shoulders. “Hey,” he said softly, trying to calm me. “Everything is okay. Buddy and Huck let themselves in with a brick. Easton and I were here with West, letting him hash some things out and we kinda kicked their ass.”
“Where’s West?” My voice cracked, my chest tightening like a vise.
“Easton just took him home. His phone didn’t survive the fight.” Miles hesitated, his eyes dropping. “His jaw needs ice, so I told him I’d stay here and clean up.”
My stomach twisted. I nodded too quickly, words tumbling out of me. “I was on my way back to Atlanta. I needed to check on my dad. The calls from North Dakota won’t stop. West leftand walked away but he did warn me that he knows how to walk away. He told me…” I trailed off, realizing I was rambling about things that didn’t make sense to Miles and that he didn’t need to hear about from me.
Miles frowned, but his voice was steady. “Look, we all know what you two have been up to. It’s been a tricky situation. But–”
“Wait.” My gaze lifted to his, sharp and accusing. “You knew?”
“We knew it wasn’t real,” he admitted, shrugging like it was obvious. “Everyone knows.”
The words hit harder than any punch. A cold shiver ran through me, freezing me where I stood. Marshal had stepped in, asking Miles where he could help, and the two of them moved off, oblivious to the storm inside me. They knew.
They all knew.
Did they always know?
Grams and Gramps. Easton. Miles. Everyone but me had been in on our secrets, while I kept lying to my dad like an idiot. West had let me believe we were in this together.
I turned on autopilot, my feet carrying me toward the back. My hand clutched my phone, my fingers wrapped tight around the keys I’d left in the office desk drawer. I didn’t bother explaining. Didn’t bother saying goodbye.
The slam of the back door was enough.
I slid into my old Toyota, whispering a prayer as the engine coughed, then caught. It was a risk, driving that piece of junk this late at night, but I didn’t care. I had to get to my dad. I had to make sure he was okay.
And I couldn’t stand to be around West. Or Marshal. Or Miles. Or anyone else tied to West’s world.
Because I realized what an idiot I’d been.
I thought we were in this lie together. But they knew. They always knew. West had been right when he said couldn’t keepdoing it. Not after meeting my dad. Not after seeing what it cost me. He wasn’t built to carry guilt the way I was.
He’d thrown the lake house at me, Fiddlers too, like he could repent with real estate and charm. Maybe the house was mine. Maybe the bar was mine.
