He’s a man at the edge. They might just be the ones to bring him back.
Sheriff Hanna never knew why Ash left all those years ago, never believed what they told her about why the foster brother she had fallen in love with took off. But when the woman she’s promised to protect disappears, Ash is the only one she can trust.
Ash became the protector and fighter he once needed. Lately, the only person he’s fighting with is his MC captain, because Nicco is far too ready to let the darkness win.
Ash is the only person who has ever truly understood Nicco in the ways that matter. Ash, and his tornado of a foster sister. Hanna sees, feels, and wants too much from both of them—and Nicco finds he’ll do anything to make her happy. And to make Ash happy.
They just have stay out of the line of fire, something the three of them have never been very good at.
That’s the thing about survivors, though. They’ll fight until the very end for the people they love. And the chance of happiness is always worth the war.
Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of suicidal ideation, references to drug use/abuse and drug smuggling, and mention of conversion camps/religious camps.
General Release Date: 26th May 2026
Blood.
There was blood on the lip of the counter, smudged in the shape of fingerprints dragged along the Formica. Blood on the plastic tile floor, big drops, and smaller ones that showed an obvious trail, movement from one side of the room to the next.
One side of the room. One side of the house.
Out of the front door.
Hanna swallowed, but when she breathed through her mouth to avoid the lingering scent, her tongue tasted copper, like the air was tinged with metallic memories of what had happened in the hours since she had last stepped foot in the safe house.
Well, it was supposed to be a safe house. She couldn’t say for certain what it was now. Certainly, she was standing in the center of a crime scene, but without a clear head, it would be impossible for her to figure out exactly what kind of crime she was dealing with.
And as sheriff of Bitterroot County, it was her job.
But that wasn’t why her heart was pounding a hard, impatient staccato in her chest, and it wasn’t why her skin felt too hot against the cool metal of her service weapon, and it wasn’t why she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.
“Grace!” Hanna moved through the small kitchen, careful to keep her weapon raised and her senses on high alert. The safe house was small enough that she could see most of the living room and partially into the bedroom without moving, but years of experience and good survival instinct told her not to trust the shadows at the corners of her eyes.
“Grace, it’s Sheriff Van Rijn, are you okay?”
Hanna stepped carefully across the kitchen floor, avoiding the blood droplets and broken glass. A cup lay sideways on the floor, and water darkened the mat before the sink, as if whoever had been drinking had been surprised mid-sip.
As if Grace had been surprised mid-sip.
Hanna shook her head and took another careful step out into the living room. When she had first arrived, she had raced inside at the sight of the open front door, splintered wood and hanging chains. Now she had to make sure she was truly alone.
From the far side of the house, Hanna heard the faint sound of a moan, and she steadied her nerves and strode quickly across the floor, checking both the front closet and under the couch as she moved with purpose. As she neared the bathroom, the sound got louder, and fear gripped Hanna’s gut and twisted.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for Grace Iverson. The woman she had promised to protect.
“County Sheriff, I’m coming in.”
“Hanna…please…”
Hanna almost dropped her gun at the sight in front of her, something she hadn’t even done in her rookie year on the force. But the first thing she saw when she pushed the door open was a bloom of sticky blood against bright white tiles.
Her gaze traveled up, as if in slow motion, until she laid eyes on her deputy, his hand pressed to his abdomen, both of which were covered in blood.
Hanna dropped to her knees and grabbed the nearest hand towel. “Frankie. Frankie, what happened?”
Frankie’s face was ashen white, a surefire sign he had lost too much blood, and she could see that even attempting to speak was costing him.
“I’m calling for help,” Hanna promised, pulling out her radio as she did. She directed dispatch to send an ambulance to the house as fast as possible, and tried not to think about just how far away the safe house was from the hospital.
Instead, she pressed the towel to Frankie’s wound. “Are they gone?” she asked. “You don’t have to speak, just nod.”
Frankie swallowed hard, and beads of sweat trickled down his neck. “They’re gone. But…but…”
Hanna shook her head. “Save your energy, Deputy. You need medical attention.”
At that, Frankie did shake his head. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties, if that, but he was a hard worker and good backup in the field, which often made Hanna forget his age. She couldn’t forget it now, though. Fear and pain were making him look younger than his years, and he had lost the hardened edge she’d come to expect from him.
Which meant it would be up to her to keep him alive until the paramedics arrived.
“Sheriff… Hanna…” His hand, sticky with blood, reached for her arm. “They got her…They’re gone…but they got Grace, and they took her away.”
What felt like hours later, but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, Hanna stood on the walkway in front of the safehouse and watched the ambulance drive off into the night, the blaring lights and sirens cutting through the eerie stillness of the dark. Frankie would make it. She couldn’t think anything else. Frankie would survive, because Hanna had promised his momma the day he’d taken the job that she would never let anything happen to him.
And because he couldn’t die. He just…couldn’t.
The lights disappeared out of sight, and Hanna’s adrenaline begin to drop, dragging her bones and muscles toward the earth, as if she was made of stone, as if she could no longer support her own weight.
Finally, she dropped to the front steps, the cold concrete a welcome reprieve from the heat racing through her veins, cooling the terror and fear that had taken root the moment she had seen the smashed front door dangling on its hinges.
Keeping Frankie alive had been a temporary distraction, but now that Hanna was alone in the dark night with only her own thoughts for company, she knew it was time to face the truth.
Grace Iverson had been taken from the safe house.
A safe house no one knew about but cops.
Hanna reached for her phone, stilling her trembling hand before dialing a familiar number, a number she had told herself she wouldn’t be calling ever again.
It picked up on the second ring.
Hanna didn’t let the silence in. “I need your help.”
Gemma Snow loves high heat, high adventures and high expectations for her heroes! Her stories are set in the past and present, from the glittering streets of Paris to cowboy-rich Triple Diamond Ranch in Wolf Creek, Montana.
In her free time, she loves to travel, and spent several months living in a fourteenth-century castle in the Netherlands. When not exploring the world, she likes dreaming up stories, eating spicy food, driving fast cars and talking to strangers. She recently moved to Nashville with a cute redheaded cat and a cute redheaded boy.
You can take a look at Gemma's website and blog and also follow her on Facebook and Twitter.
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