Page 29 of Flashback for the Forward

She blinked up at me, tears clinging to her lashes. “I wish it were as simple as you make it sound.”

It was that simple. Because he’d have to get through me first and I wouldn’t go down without a fight.

“I have to get the door. Can you keep an eye on the bacon?”

A stuttered exhale fell past her lips, and she nodded.

“That’s my girl,” I praised, pulling back enough that I could help her to her feet. “I’ll be right back.”

Trudging to the front door, I wrenched it open, the explanation of my unexpected house guest already falling from my lips.

“Listen, there’s something you should—”

“Morning, Uncle Cole!” chirped a voice that was definitely not my twin’s.

Instead of Crew, Maisie and Levi stood on my front porch.

“Uh.” I blinked at them in confusion. “What are you guys doing here?”

Levi’s head cocked to the side. “We talked about this last night.”

“Last night,” I repeated. Honestly, everything that had happened before Bridget showed up was a blur.

Maisie held up a large stack of eight-by-ten pictures of me in uniform. “Dad said since you have the day off, you’d sign these for the digital silent auction we’re running for Thorne Tough.”

That was enough to jog my memory, and I nodded. “Right.”

Everyone within the Surf organization was banding together to support Maisie’s adaptive sports camp for kids with physical disabilities. The thirteen-year-old was determined to offer the week-long event free of charge, which meant she was working overtime on fundraising.

“I was hoping that you wouldn’t mind me going live on social media while you put your autograph on these. Maybe have you talk about your plans for the winner of the Day with the Surf.” That was another silent auction item she’d cooked up where one lucky fan got to spend an entire day with the team, then attend a home game in a luxury box with twenty of their closest friends.

While it was a great idea that would drum up more interest in the largest prize offered in that particular fundraiser, there was Bridget to consider. With her ex on the hunt, we couldn’t afford for any clues of her whereabouts to find their way onto the internet.

“I don’t think—”

Before I could finish, a soft meow from behind me drew Maisie’s attention, and she squealed, “Hey, Cinder!”

The teen didn’t wait for an invitation, squeezing past me into the house to get to my cat, who’d darted in the direction of the kitchen.

Panic clawed at my chest as I chased after them. “Maisie, wait!”

There was a shrill scream from Bridget, and I hastened my steps, coming to an abrupt halt when I reached the room containing both girls.

The woman I loved was backed against the fridge, a knife in her white-knuckled grip.

Levi stepped up beside me, and when his eyes tracked the sharp weapon Bridget held, he pushed Maisie behind him. “What’s going on, Cole?”

Instead of answering him, I slowly made my way toward Bridget. “It’s okay. These are my friends. They’re not here to hurt you.”

Her green eyes darted over my shoulder, and as if she had suddenly realized her overreaction, her fingers loosened on the knife’s handle. The sound of metal meeting tile was jarringly loud in the tense silence.

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I-I thought—”

“I know.” I rubbed her arms, hating how cold her skin felt to the touch.

“Who are you?” The question was issued with youthful curiosity from Maisie.

Spinning around, I explained, “This is Bridget. An old friend of mine who needed a place to stay for a little while.”