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That got my attention.

I stilled, but wasn’t ready to give an inch. Colt’s admission piqued my interest, because, the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. When I’d stopped taking the tonic, the mate bond had indeed snapped into place.

“Keep talking,” I demanded through gritted teeth.

Colt’s arms slowly lowered until they landed on my forearms. “I couldn’t be sure, but now I think my theory was right. I didn’t do it, I swear. The risk was too high.”

His emphasis on the word risk didn’t go amiss. I knew exactly what he meant without giving away any specifics to Zane.

Colt nodded toward the security system. “Check the footage. There’s got to be something else.”

I stared him down for another second before finally releasing my hold on him. Running a hand through my hair, I adjusted my jacket. The more I thought about it, the more it made no sense. Because Colt had nothing to gain from doing such a thing. That power outage had killed his income. Could have cost him clients. Maybe he was right, there was something else. But, if it wasn’t him, who was it?

A nod toward Zane and we ventured back to the security system.

The three of us surrounded the computer as Zane fast-forwarded the footage past Colt after confirming he indeed did not flick the switch. Hours of footage later, an unfamiliar figure turned up on the screen. Black jeans and a black jacket covered the figure, a hood pulled low over their head to hide their face. I couldn’t make out who it was.

“What date is this?” I questioned.

Colt moved closer to the screen, focusing on the small print in the top right-hand corner. “The afternoon of the storm. I was helping old man Ted down at the dock before it hit.”

“Zoom in,” I ordered.

The figure stood in front of the main switchboard, side-eyeing the corner of the room where the botanicals grew. My botanical. Not the everyday ones, the special ones. The three of us remained silent, and, when the intruder peered closer at the switchboard, I held my breath.

They did it. They flicked the fucking switch.

It was no power trip.

“Who is that?” I said, motioning to the screen. It was hard to make out the identity of this person having no obvious features to work with.

Zane zoomed in on the intruder’s feet.

I froze.

“Doc Martens,” said Colt, sliding me a sideways glance.

Scar owned boots exactly like those. So did half the town. I remained silent.

“I need the face. Get me something more I can work with. Something solid,” I said roughly.

Colt’s hands gripped the desk so hard his knuckles turned white, and something about that made my stomach sink.

Zane flicked between camera angles, trying to get a different viewpoint. It was impossible. The stranger’s hood was too low.

My jaw clenched, my fist squeezing in frustration. How could I have this person on film and not know their fucking identity? What did I ever do to them?

Was this even about me at all? Or was I just the collateral? My family, my friends, and the love of my life. This would affect them all. My emotions were spinning out of control, leaving me unable to think straight.

“Wait.”

My head turned to where Colt pointed at the screen again.

“Zoom in there,” he ordered.

Zane did as he asked until a wisp of mahogany hair stuck out from beneath the figure’s hood. Immediately, heartache exploded through my chest.

It couldn’t be…