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“Did you hear that, Penelope? They’re sending you away so we can be a family again. A happy family…without you.”
Gasping, I feel my heart crack. Sobs rack my body and tears soak my pillow. Unable to catch my breath or stop the flood, I descend into hysterics.
Why won’t they love me?
Chapter One
Christian
“Boss, your cell is buzzing like mad in here,” Trey yells from the office.
“I’m busy,” I shout back. Oil coats my hands as I wrestle with the engine of this truck. It’s been giving me trouble all damn day and I’m not about to abandon it just when I’m getting somewhere.
Sweat trickles down my back as I twist the wrench one final time. Reaching for a clean towel, I wipe my hands, then move to the side of the canary yellow truck and open the door. Hopping into the driver’s seat, I push the start button and wait for the answering rumble. Fortunately, a second later it comes to life and I breathe a sigh of relief.
Loud cheers break out around the garage as I jump out of the cab with a grin and take a quick bow.
“All hail your master,” I joke, as a cold water bottle is tossed my way. I snap off the top, take a long sip, and salute Trey as he gets closer.
“Fuck yeah. Boss, that one was ridiculous,” he grumbles, handing me a fresh towel and extending his hand. His brow furrows, concern etched in every line as he stares at my buzzing phone like it might bite him.
I take it from his hand, my stomach twisting when the screen shows no less than ten missed calls from each of the twins. My younger siblings, Kenna and Tucker, call and text me regularly, but for both of them to be messaging with such vigor makes me nervous. I hesitate over the little red bubble that shows I have seventeen missed text messages, stealing my nerves for bad news. Please don’t be our parents. Please.
Just as I am about to read the texts, Tucker rings again.
“Hey, Tuck. What’s going on? Are Mom and Dad okay?” I ask, in a rush. My pulse is thrumming in my ears.
“Oh, shit yeah, the family is fine. I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just need help.” His deep baritone voice fills my ear, sounding panicky.
My heartbeat slows, and my world comes back into focus. All of my men have stopped to stare at me, so I give them all a nod to let them know my parents are okay. Mom and Dad Andersen are a staple around here, always dropping by with snacks and other goodies for my workers. I swear, my guys love them almost as much as I do. This place is one big extended family.
Moving quickly toward the back of the shop, I let out a sigh as the air conditioning washes over my heated skin when I enter my office.
“Then what’s going on? You and Kenna have left me over a dozen messages.” I grump.
“I didn’t realize she was calling non-stop too. More than half the Search and Rescue team is off helping with the rescue efforts in Florida after the hurricane,” he pauses.
“Okay, so?” I prompt.
“Well, we have a missing kid up by Lustre Lake, on the mountain. Kenna and I have been searching for hours with no luck. We called in the volunteers, but we could use a volunteer wrangler…” he leaves it hanging.
“Fuck no, I’m not dealing with people today,” I growl. He knows that shit is my nightmare. “I will bring the guys and comb the area though. Where do you need me?”
“Northwest quadrant, by the lake,” he replies. “Thanks.”
The phone clicks before I can say another word. I head back out to close up early so we can go find that kid. Tourists get lost hiking here in Lustre Lake all the time. This isn’t the first, and it won’t be the last time that work gets put on hold to help.
The leaves crunch under my feet as the birds chirp animatedly overhead. My eyes scan the area, hoping to find small shoe prints, oddly bent leaves, or anything out of place. My siblings have highly trained dogs to help them, but I don’t even have time for a poorly trained one.
A little pop of color catches my attention. Bending down, I see a small thread caught on a piece of tree bark. I grasp it with my fingers; it’s a purplish color, and a tiny zap of excitement races through me. I reach into my pocket for my phone and quickly open it to the picture of the missing boy. His mother said he waswearing the same clothing as in the picture. Damn. Blue jeans and a green shirt.
Yet I can’t help but run the small string through my fingers before slipping it back into my jeans.
“Kiernan,” I call gently, hoping for an answer.
Taking a deep breath, the cool mountain air fills my lungs, giving me energy. The scent of moss and nearby trees tickles my nose, and I open my senses. The woods feel quiet, normal, so I continue on until strange sounds filter through the trees.
I strain, pausing to listen, hoping to hear it again.Was that a whimper?
