Page 6 of Three Steps Behind

Heavy footfalls sounded toward the door as Harper rounded the hall’s corner edge.

Christian’s six-foot-four frame towered over the other two men, despite Deckard being six-two.

“Dad?” Shock rumbled in Christian’s deep voice.

“Did you say da—” Riley halted halfway to the door. “How . . . ?”

Greyson was at Riley’s side before Harper could blink. He stepped around Riley, shielding her.

“Hello, Riley Anne,” their dad said.

Harper shifted, meeting Riley’s gaze. She stood like a deer fixed in headlights.

“You need to leave, now.” Rage rang in Deckard’s voice. He moved to shut the door, but the man’s hand wedged in it, unmoving.

Greyson turned to Riley. “Let’s go back in the living room, luv.”

Love? Harper arched her brows. What was up with that? All kinds of surprises tonight.

“We don’t need to listen to this,” he added. Greyson reached for Riley’s hand, and she took hold tight, if her white knuckles were any indicator. “Your brothers can handle this.”

Riley nodded. Her expression bewildered, she strode with Greyson back to the living room.

“You need to understand,” the man hollered, the sound strained as he pushed against the wooden door.

“No. You need to understand,” Deck countered, pushing back. “You’re not welcome here.”

“That may be, but your sister is in grave danger. You need to know—”

“We can protect Riley. We’ve been doing it for years.”

She couldn’t see the man’s face clearly with the wind swiping snow sideways across the porch and his face, not to mention Christian’s still widened shoulders.

“Not Riley,” the man urged. “Bristol.”

Deck’s chiseled jaw clenched.

Bristol? The sister they never spoke about. Curiosity nipped at Harper as she remained poised at the hall’s edge.

Christian shifted his stance, clearing her view. The porch’s motion lights illuminated the man’s carriage. There was something eerily familiar about it.

The man’s gaze shifted over Deck’s shoulder, landing on her. “Hello.” The gravel of his voice echoed Deck’s.

The snow stilled long enough for his face to be clear. Gaping, her gaze swept back and forth between the two men—one a reflection of the other.

Deckard’s dad. His dead dad.

Three

“I’M GOING TO SEE our visitor out. I’ll be right back.” Deck gave Harper a comforting I’ve got this wink before he maneuvered the man outside, firmly shutting the door behind them.

Despite the unwanted visitor, an ounce of relief from being surrounded by the family she loved filled her. The man she loved. When death had stared her in the eye, it had all become so clear. She loved Deckard. Too bad she was a shell of herself, and that he’d never release his self-imposed control long enough to act on his feelings. If she was even right about his feelings.

She followed Riley and Greyson into the living room, not wanting to wait in the hall alone—never wanting to be alone since she’d been back. She stepped in mid-conversation.

“He died in a car explosion,” Grey said. “I mean, there was an explosion.”

“Yeah, but apparently it was just another con.” She shrugged a shoulder. “He excels at those.”