Page 20 of Reeves

"I love being out here like this. I would have killed for an escape like this when I lived here."

Rhodes looks at me like the Cheshire Cat.

He points toward a narrow opening between two oaks. "I come out here most weekends when I'm not stuck with school shit. Ridge doesn't like me using the cabin, but I have a key, so I'll stay out there sometimes. Wells knows, because Wells. But he doesn't out me as long as I don't have any parties out here."

Wells is our cyber guy. He probably has eyes on all of us at all times.

I scan the property. Towering pines. Twisting oak branches.Sunlight breaking across the ground. It's been years since I've been out here, but it hasn't changed much. Just new paths carved through old growth.

"Feels like I could still navigate this place blindfolded." I rev the engine lightly. "The routes are familiar, even if the trails are new."

Rhodes shrugs. "Mom used to bring us out here all the time when we were little. I don't remember much about her, but I remember coming here with her."

I go still for a second. The casual mention of her catches me off guard.

I see her clear as day, standing at the forest's edge in faded jeans and a blue flannel. I can feel her hand on my shoulder as she points to a set of deer tracks, finger to her lips so we don't scare anything away.

My gaze drifts toward the thicker stretch of trees leading down to the marsh.

That was the place she loved most.

"You actually remember any of that?" I ask, voice rougher than intended. He was so young when she died. Being the youngest, he was the one who was really robbed out of all of us.

Rhodes looks down and kicks at a pinecone. "Not really, honestly. I was only four when she died." He scratches the back of his neck. "Most of what I know comes from stories you guys tell me."

I nod slowly, absorbing the difference between us. For me, her absence is a fault line. It's the moment everything shifted. It shaped how I live, always moving, never anchored. But for Rhodes, she's a story. A photograph passed down rather than lived.

"She had this thing about the birds," I say, surprising myself. "She could identify them just by their calls."

Rhodes doesn't respond. Maybe he doesn't know what to do with information like that.

His phone buzzes, breaking the silence. He pulls it from his pocket and frowns at the screen.

"Shit. I need to head back to the city. Got a study group at four."

Just like that, we're back to logistics and away from memories. It's easier that way for all of us.

"Go ahead. We have two cars, so you can go." I tilt my head toward the Hummer parked at the edge of the clearing. "You can leave the bike by my truck and I'll trailer it when I'm done. I want to ride the other one down to the cabin first."

His eyebrows shoot up. "You know Ridge kidnapped Coco Boudreaux after Dad died and kept her there, right? Fucking crazy shit went down."

"I know. I didn't hear about it until after the fact. Who knew Ridge had it in him? Now look at them."

Rhodes laughs. Not sure at what. "I didn't bring my key. Do you have one?"

I shrug, savoring the warm sun on my shoulders through my t-shirt. "I don't need to get inside. I just want to put my eyes on it. I don't think I've been out there since I enlisted."

"I hear you, soldier boy." He twirls the keys around his finger. "Just take the trail that curves along the marsh. The one that cuts straight east dead-ends in a drainage ditch now."

"Got it."

He hesitates, squinting against the midday sun. "When do you leave again? Unless Ridge talks you into staying, that is."

The question slides under my skin like a splinter. It's small and harmless, but still irritating.

"I leave a week from Friday," I answer with a practiced lightness, my go-to response for questions about permanence.

Rhodes snorts. "Shit. That will be here before we know it. That is, unless Ridge kidnaps you."