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Reese had dropped the tailgate of my truck, and Shay was seated there with a blanket around him.

“Open your eyes, baby,” Reese kept coaxing. He’d dug out our first aid kit too, and he was trying to get eye drops into Shay’s eyes. Which couldn’t be easy with Shay shaking from crying.

I knew my brother. He needed something to do.

“Ambulance is rolling in,” I said, heaving a painful breath. We’d all need to see the EMTs before we got out of here.

“I’m sorry,” Shay sobbed hoarsely. “I’m so sorry.”

Fuck my heart. I coughed and scrubbed a hand over my mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he whimpered.

“It’s a flashback, Shay,” Reese murmured thickly. “Listen to my voice, okay? River’s here too. We’re gonna get you out of here soon. You’re safe.”

I tried to swallow, but the sting in my throat wouldn’t let up.

Looking over my shoulder, I watched the firefighters take command. The flashing lights lit up every surface they got stuck on, and the fire blazed out the windows on the first floor. Every now and then, we heard a window shatter.

It was our home. Our life investment. But none of it mattered if Shay couldn’t return.

I turned back to him, to both of them, and saw how Shay collapsed against Reese as the grief took over again.

Reese and I exchanged a glance.

We had to make this right. We couldn’t fucking deal with that amount of pain—and we didn’t want it anywhere near our boy.

CHAPTER 1

Seven months later

Shay Acton

“Shay, wait—will you let us explain?”

Sorry, pups. You’re not coming with me right now.

“No, you can fuck right off and give me some space!” I slammed the door shut and stalked past the driveway, half tempted to steal Reese’s car. But I saw no point. He wasn’t nervous about lending me his Impala anymore.

Motherfuckers.

My fucking God, I was fuming.

I threw off my hoodie and tossed it in the back of River’s truck before I continued walking. The dirt road leading to the Mclean estate was about five seconds of seething away, and Reese better not follow. Knowing him, he’d try to, but River would stop him. He’d tell Reese to honor my wish. Give him space.

A fuck-ton of space.

I clenched and unclenched my fists, and I couldn’t shake the tightness around my chest. Fucking hell. This was almost too much. Even if it was only for the moment—fuck, it was a lot. I thought we’d come further in our relationship.

I threw a glance over my shoulder, seeing the house. The new house. My new home. The house I shared with two men who’d told me repeatedly they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with me. It was a stunning place. White-painted wood exterior with a bit of a coastal feel to it. A big backyard with a nice pool. Reese’s very own barbecue area. A garage that fit two cars—which was ironic because they never parked inside it.

The downstairs was wide open, divided into a big kitchen and an adjacent living room and dining area. Fireplace for the cozy nights, giant flat-screen for games and movies. The comfiest and largest sectional couch framed the coffee table that Master Greer had made for us as a housewarming gift. Colors ran in white, faded blues, and muted greens. Lots of wood too. My brothers already had a favorite spot on the couch, a favorite dish that Reese cooked, and a favorite playlist for when they came over for dinner. They shared a guest room upstairs too, when they spent the night. That room was theirs.

I swallowed hard and opened the gate.

All this…sense of home, of where I belonged…was protected behind tight security. Alarm system, sensors, cameras, built-in fence in the hedges, a six-foot wall where the greenery ended… But right now, I couldn’t look at it.

I hit the dirt road and aimed for the estate.