“You’re vulnerable to deadly attacks. They’re taking the stronghold!”

Mackenzie watched the short graphic again.

And again.

Dread filled her gut.

A warning. This was why Julian had bumped into her. To stick the business card in her pocket so that she would find it later.

Her father’s dream start-up company had become reality, until he died. Now her older brother was at the helm. And tonight Julian hand-delivered a warning. Important enough that he sought her out in person but still kept his distance.

Important enough that he took a huge risk.

Deadly attacks . . .

She eyed the emergency vehicles, and the nausea she’d felt from the ride returned.

William climbed back in and shut his door, then stared at the steering wheel, a haggard cast to his pale features.

“Well?” she asked, the question barely a croak from her tear-clogged throat.

“He was breathing when they put him on the gurney.”

She slumped with a long exhale. Julian had survived. But for how much longer? He’d communicated with her without leaving a digital trail. He was that scared. And she should be too. She shouldn’t go see him in the hospital and instead should stay away.

He would want that.

William said nothing as he drove her back to the condo only a mile away and parked.

She shifted in the seat. “Listen—”

“I know what you’re going to say,” he huffed. “Thank you, William, but I don’t want to see you anymore—at least on a personal level. I know, because that’s what I was going to say, only to you.”

Okay, well, she deserved that. And despite sharing his sentiment, rejection always stung. “Um . . . I was going to say that I need to get to Montana.”

“Montana?” Suspicion flashed in his eyes. “Just like that?”

“Just like that. Something has come up, and I need to cancel our weekend—except, well, you already canceled it. It’s okay, William. We’re still friends. Colleagues. And I agree, it wasn’t working.”

He slumped back, and oddly, relief flashed over his features. Then he smiled. “At least now we know.”

She returned his smile. Sometimes one date was all it took. “Yes, we do.”

“What’s in Montana?”

“Family.” A brother who warned me to stay far, far away.

TWO

Alex Knight leaned his mountain bike against the trunk of a white pine at the Rocky Mountain Courage Memorial. He removed his helmet and hung it over the bars, then took a few steps to get a closer look at the damaged plaque honoring his father for his sacrifice.

A fist of grief pressed against his chest.