In the two days since the “letter” had arrived at the Sand & Surf Hotel that Owen owned with his wife, Laura, he’d ignored two collect calls from the Virginia prison where his father now resided after pleading guilty to abusing Owen’s mother. Owen hadn’t even known that collect calls could be made to cell phones, and how had his father gotten his number? No one in his family would ever give it to him, so it must’ve been one of the lawyers who didn’t know the full history between father and son.

They couldn’t know that the last person on God’s green earth that Owen wanted to talk to was Mark Lawry, which of course his father knew. Thus the emotional blackmail. He hadn’t felt this wound up since the weeks before the trial, when he’d had to prepare himself to see the son of a bitch who’d raised him. He’d thought it was over now that the trial was done, but with his father, it was never over.

Of course, Laura had tuned in to the fact that something was up with him, but he hadn’t told her about the letter or the blackmail. She had enough to contend with carrying their twins, taking care of Holden and helping to run the hotel, which was booked with holiday-week reservations. Their life, as always, was busy and fun, except for when his father dropped in to remind him that Owen could run but he couldn’t hide from his past.

His coffee had gone cold while he stared out the window at the ocean. He loved the view from the hotel his grandparents had owned for fifty years until they gave it to him and Laura as a wedding gift. He loved the life that he and Laura had here with Holden and was eagerly anticipating the twins, who’d arrive in March. Everything was going so well, which made this latest volley from his father so poorly timed.

A gurgle from Holden’s room let Owen know the little guy was awake. He poured the remains of his coffee down the sink and went to fetch him. This was Owen’s favorite time of day with the baby he was raising as his own, even though his biological father was Laura’s first husband, Justin. He came to the island once a month to see his son and contributed child support, but Owen got the rest of the time with Holden, including moments like this when the baby’s cute face lit up with delight at the sight of him.

Owen scooped him up and held him close, breathing in the sweet baby scent that he’d become addicted to since Holden was born. “Hey, buddy. You sleep good?”

“Dadadadada.”