She was breathing hard. So was he.

“Talk,” she said. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Hannah.” His eyes had gone hard. “You don’t want any part of this—”

“Try me.”

He glared at her for the longest moment, until she was sure she’d pushed him too far and he was going to yell at her to get the hell out of here. Regret began elbowing its way into her thoughts. She wasn’t angry at Michael. Not really.

This rage was all about her father.

She realized she expected Michael to shove her out the door with dismissive words, the way her father would. To treat her like a little girl who couldn’t deal with the big, bad issues of the world.

But Michael straightened and pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. “Here,” he said. “I’ll show you.”

He unlocked the screen, went to the text messages, and handed it to her.

She read the first few on the screen, and they didn’t make sense.

Right now, who is hunter, and who is prey?

Do you really think a jail cell will keep you safe? That’s funny, Michael.

As if you’d even get to a jail cell.

As if I’d let you leave this neighborhood.

The tone was chilling, even from the relative safety of a cell phone screen. Someone was stalking him? Were these messages from the man her father had killed? Why didn’t Michael want to tell her about this?

Then she stopped on the next line.

Your girlfriend is adorable how she plays fireman. Maybe I should introduce myself.

Her eyes flicked to the top of the screen to see that these texts had been sent from a random number, not from anyone in his contact list. She directed her gaze up to Michael. “Who sent these?”

“Warren Morris. The man your father shot in the woods.”

She glanced at the phone again, then back up at him. “Does my dad know about these text messages?”

“Yes.”

He put out a hand, but Hannah took a step back and held the phone out of reach, scrolling up, reading through a brief exchange. “Do you know this guy?”

“No.” He paused. “Sort of.”

“So someone has been threatening you? For how long?” Michael didn’t say anything. She glanced past him, to where Tyler and Hunter were sitting at the dining room table. “Do they know?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, so they get to be in on all the secrecy.”

“Hannah—”

She glanced at the text messages again. “Did this just start today?”

“No.” Michael took a long breath. “It’s complicated.”

“Is this related to the fires in your neighborhood?”

He hesitated. “Yes. And the restaurant bombing.”

He didn’t say anything else, but she kept looking at him expectantly. “There’s more,” she said. “I can feel it.”

He glanced away, but he talked. “Your father doesn’t even know all of it. Like I said, it’s bigger than just me. The recent arson attacks. The fires at the school carnival—”

“That long?” She wanted to hit him again. “And you didn’t think maybe I should know?”

“I’m trying to keep you out of it, Hannah!” He shoved away from the couch and stood over her. “You don’t think it kills me to get text messages like that? To know that the more we’re together, the more of a target you are? Do you have any idea what it was like to get those messages when you were in the woods, just trying to do your job?”

She punched him in the chest with his phone. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to know that you kept this from me?”

He drew back. His expression looked bleak. “I didn’t want to tell you like this.”

Hannah looked from him to Hunter and Tyler and back. So much secrecy. She wanted to storm out of there right now.

She didn’t. She needed to piece it together, but she didn’t have enough clues yet. There’d been so much violence and destruction that she probably should be afraid of whatever Michael was involved in, but she’d known him too long and she wasn’t the type to back away from a threat. What could he and his brothers be into? Were they arms dealers? Drug smugglers? That didn’t seem to fit. Michael always seemed so concerned with doing what was right. He was a solid role model for his brothers.

She almost couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “What are you involved in?”

“Nothing like you’re thinking. My parents struck a deal five years ago, and it didn’t work. Now I’m just trying to keep my family safe.” He paused, and his expression turned desperate. “Not just my family. Everyone. You and James. Hunter and his mom. Becca and Quinn. Adam. Layne and Simon and—”

“They’re all involved?” Hannah stared at him. “All those people?”

He nodded. “Like I said, it’s bigger than just me.”

“But they know. They know the risks?”

Michael hesitated, then nodded.

It had been months since the carnival fire and the arson attacks in town. He’d been keeping this secret—whatever it was—for months. Years, if she believed what he’d said about his parents. She gritted her teeth. “And now I’m a part of it.”

His voice was very soft. Almost ashamed. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I didn’t want—”

She didn’t care what he didn’t want. “But it’s over, right? The man is dead?”