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Beaufort, South Carolina

April 5

After junking the pickup, Finn had purchased a BMW SUV for his new family. The dogs were crated in the load space, and Auggie was buckled in the backseat. Charlotte sat next to Finn, customizing the tech on the dash. Finn turned the corner onto Charlotte’s quiet street, unsurprised to see the cars of the welcoming committee parked out front. He spotted Cam’s 4Runner, Tox’s Defender, and Steady’s Jeep lined up on the curb. Nathan and Emily had probably walked over. One vehicle did confuse him: a limousine parked at the front of the row, a uniformed driver leaning against the hood looking at his phone.

“Oh, no,” Charlotte whispered.

“What?”

“I think my parents are here,” she said.

“That’s okay. I should meet them. I used to be pretty good with parents. Maybe I can drum up some of my old charm.” He winked.

“It’s not that.”

He parked the SUV behind Herc’s truck and came around to help Charlotte out. Auggie popped out of the back seat. Finn said, “Look, I know they know our history. All I can do is show them who I am now. Who we are now.”

“Finn.” She took his hand and pulled him to the sidewalk. “There’s something I haven’t told you about my dad.”

“What?” Finn’s lips tipped. “Wait. Don’t tell me. He’s a mob boss. No. A tech billionaire. No. Oh shit, is your dad George Clooney?”

“Worse,” she muttered.

“Charlotte, there is nothing in that living room that I can’t handle.”

She kissed him. “If you say so.”

“Auggie, don’t stick your hands in the fudging birdbath. Come on.” With two dogs and an eight-year-old boy in tow, Finn and Charlotte walked into her house.

Finn spotted Charlotte’s mother immediately. Daisy Devlin hadn’t changed much from her acting days. She was a gorgeous blonde with a million-dollar smile. When she spotted her daughter, she squealed.

“Oh my God, Charlotte. You’re glowing. I would have seen you in the dark.” Daisy hurried over and enveloped her daughter in a hug.

Charlotte burst into tears. “Hi, mom.”

Her mother answered through mirroring tears. “Hi, Angel.”

Finn stood tall behind Charlotte. Daisy stepped back. “It appears my daughter shares my weakness for scoundrels.”

“And your determination to stand by them as they earn their place,” Finn replied.

Daisy Devlin’s scrutiny was imperious and skeptical. “Time will tell,” she said. Her demeanor shifted from dictatorial to maternal as she returned her attention to her daughter. “Come sit and tell me everything.”

She continued to talk, but Finn’s attention shifted to the back of the room. A man rose from the easy chair, and Finn’s friends, who had yet even to greet him, parted the circle they had formed.

In a royal blue velvet coat, a black fedora, and ostrich-skin booties, rock legend Trevor Roy stood.

He was a diminutive man, maybe five-eight, and slender, yet he commanded the room like an admiral. In his right hand, he cradled an ebony walking stick; the handle was a gold cobra’s head. Trevor’s piercing brown eyes met Finn’s and held.

Throughout his life, not much had dazzled Finn. He had met a president, sat next to his favorite action star on a plane. He’d even spent an evening in a bar drinking with a famous country singer. Celebrity didn’t impress him.

But standing there, staring at Trevor Roy, Finn couldn’t help but flash to the poster on his childhood bedroom wall: a black and white photo of Trevor with his band, The Strain, in concert at Wembley Stadium. Half the image was the sea of people in the crowd, and at the top of the frame, Trevor Roy stood with his arms extended to his adoring fans. The picture was taken just after Trevor had performed alone at the piano his iconic ballad about his baby daughter. The name of the song:

Sweet Charlotte.

He glanced at Charlotte, who seemed to be saying I tried to tell you with her eyes. Then she touched her chin and pushed up. It was then Finn realized his mouth was hanging wide open. Finn turned back and scanned his friends, who all appeared to be enjoying the shit out of this moment. Tox, Steady, Chat, Ren, Cam, and Herc were all sporting huge grins, but it was the seventh man that grabbed his attention.

His baby brother, Aiden, stepped away from the group. With a shout of pure joy, Finn charged Aiden and wrapped him in a hug that lifted him off his feet. The last time he had seen Aiden, Finn hadn’t spared him more than ten words. He had simply given him a slip of paper with Tox’s number and left.


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