Page 3 of Romeo

He barks in response.

I grin.“Race you home!”

I sprint over a small hill and down through more trees as I race Romeo back to the house I had built on my family’s ranch.Our dad gifted each of his six kids an acre for our own home, though we share everything in between.

It’s been our home for generations and will remain our home for generations to come.The only one of my siblings who hasn’t built a home here yet is my sister, Lani.She’s the youngest of us and runs a medical clinic in town, so she still lives in her apartment on the other side of our small town of Pine Creek.

With Romeo on my heels, I crest the low ridge that overlooks my home.Nestled in a small valley and surrounded by still-growing fruit trees I planted a few seasons ago, my farmhouse is a beacon.

The wraparound porch is something I’d dreamed of having all those years I’d been deployed, a place to wind down with a glass of sweet tea or a steaming cup of coffee in the morning.

It’s home.

My home.

I smile as Romeo continues down the ridge, not stopping until he reaches the bright red front door.“Fine, bud!”I call out as I climb the porch steps.“You win.”

He barks in response and spins in a circle before taking a seat and waiting for me to unlock the door.It’s something I know I don’t technically have to do, but I do it anyway because years of working missing persons cases have made me hyper-aware of just how easily someone can breach your private space if precautions aren’t taken.

Sometimes, even if they are.

Romeo immediately heads for his water bowl while I retrieve a bottle of water from the fridge then make my way down the hall and into my bedroom.The place is sparsely decorated, but it’s mine.And I’ve come to realize that I really don’t need that much stuff.

A bed.Blankets.A dresser.And my books.

As I always do, I take a minute to grin up at the bookshelves covering two walls in my bedroom.Floor-to-ceiling, the titles housed there range from thrilling spy novels to nonfiction, history, and everything in between.

I’ve even been known to read my fair share of Christian romance, though my brothers will never let me live it down.These aren’t even all of them.I have an entire wall of books out in my living room and ten plastic tubs still waiting to be shelved in my office.

Books are my happy place.My escape from the world when things get too heavy.

After stripping out of the T-shirt I’d been wearing, I head for the bathroom and crank on the shower.Water sprays out of the nozzle, turning hot in seconds, thanks to the tankless water heater I installed when I built the place.

Best.Decision.Ever.

I take a moment to look in the mirror and study the bullet holes marring my chest.Angry red scars that serve as a roadmap to the hell I’ve survived.For some, scars are a painful reminder.For me, they’re fuel to the fire in my soul.I walked away from every single attempt made on my life.And as a former Special Forces Operative responsible for taking on monsters masquerading as men—in missions no one will ever hear of—there have been quite a few.

The silver cross around my neck is the very reason why I walked away, and I’ll never let myself forget it.God was in the fire with me, right beside me, as the flames got so hot I could barely stand it.

And He brought me through.Which is exactly why I will keep fighting for the innocent until He calls me home.It’s more than a job.It’s a calling.

One I will answer until there’s no more breath in my lungs.

The Hunt Brothers Search& Rescue office is inside a renovated barn on our property.Up until a few months ago, we were using Bradyn’s home office, but now that he and his wife Kennedy are in the process of trying to start a family, the decision was made to do something more permanent.

Since Dylan and Tucker are out repairing fences, Bradyn, Elliot, and his wife, Nova, are all sitting at the table with our newest client, Odie Landers.I remain standing against the wall, arms folded, Romeo at my feet.This gives me a vantage point when studying Odie’s body language.

He’s relatively collected for a man who just lost his grandfather and quite possibly his sister, too, but that could also mean that he’s used to a stressful environment.Given the family’s celebrity status, I’m betting on the latter.

“What’s the status on the authorities looking for your sister?”Nova questions.As a former detective herself, she’s always making notes and surveying every case with the scrutiny of an officer seeking clues.

“Things have been kept under the table,” he replies.“They’re looking for her, but only locally.And given the media storm it would bring raining down upon my family, they’re keeping the story as close to their chest as they can.”

“You don’t believe she’s hiding near your grandfather’s estate?”Bradyn questions.

“No.If she had, we would have already found her.”He takes a deep breath.“Do you have a sister, Mr.Hunt?”he asks Bradyn.

“I do,” he replies.

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