Most either died during “training” or were sold to the highest bidder, never to be seen or heard from again.

Donny and I were rescued—rescued by Dad and Uncle Ryan.

Not only did Dad rescue us, he then adopted us. Brought us into his family. Made us Steels and heirs to a megafortune.

For so many years, I wondered why he did. Why he, a newlywed with a biological child on the way, would take in two broken little boys.

Only recently did I learn the truth.

Dad went through something similar. He didn’t go into detail when he told me, and I’m not sure I want him to. How can I imagine my father—my strong, loving, and generous father—enduring even a tenth of what Donny and I went through?

And when I have to think about Dad’s ordeal, I have to think about—

I have to think about the ugliest, most horrific thing I ever did in my young life. I was ten years old, and I—

I shake my head again. More vehemently this time, enough that I almost feel my brain sloshing between my ears. Those thoughts have no place in my world.

I’ve left them buried so deep for so long…

But now…

Now they’re threatening to emerge.

No. Not emerge.

Erupt.

Detonate like a bomb that has lain dormant for eternity, but now the fuse is lit…

I thought I was in control. I let my love for Ashley out, and the love seemed to override the hate.

But the hate for my birth father has awakened the hate for myself.

The hate I bear for something I did all those years ago.

The hate that brings out the darkness in me—the darkness that was always there but is now too much to endure.

Even my love for Ashley can’t fix this.

I was a fool to think it ever could.

I let the chills overtake me as I open my flask and take another sip.

It doesn’t help this time.

It doesn’t help because I don’t deserve warmth.

I could leave the security of my tent and start a small fire.

That would help.

But I can’t.

I deserve the darkness. I deserve the cold.

I don’t even deserve the heat of hell.

I wake at sunrise. Already, the air has warmed, and I’m no longer shivering. I scramble out of my sleeping bag, put on a parka and shoes, and leave the tent. I take a quick piss and settle down to build a small fire. I warm my hands for a few minutes above the flame, and then I pull out my French press. I need coffee.

Though I use a drip coffeemaker at home, coffee made in my French press while I’m alone in the mountains tastes better than any coffee in the universe. Even my mother’s—the strongest, most flavorful coffee ever—can’t compare to the coffee I press myself when I’m alone outside, surrounded by the beauty of the mountains.

But something wants to destroy this beauty.

I sniff. The smell of forest fire. For a moment, I thought the smoggy air was just the fog of morning, but it’s not.

Fire.

Colorado has fires every year, so this isn’t unexpected.

Except the smell is strong.

Very close.

I’ve ventured into the mountains, away from home. Away from my vineyards. That’s what I needed to deal with my father’s confession.

Something percolates in my mind, though—something I don’t want to face.

This fire is closer than it should be.

It’s close to me.

But it’s closer to my vineyards.

I’m not sure how I know this. I’m not a human compass.

I just know.

Those vineyards are a part of me, and I know.

“Fuck,” I say aloud. I press my coffee hurriedly and pour it into a thermos. So much for my time alone to deal with yet another shitty piece of my life.

I have to leave this place. I quickly put out my fire, which I should never have lit in the first place. Open flames are discouraged during fire season. Sometimes the government issues a burn ban, though they haven’t yet this year.

The fire I’m smelling could be the one that changes that.

I pack up my gear as quickly as I can as the scent of the fire grows stronger. To the west, gray smoke rises.

To the west.

Steel Acres is to the west.

The vineyards are to the west.

Ashley is to the west.

I strap my pack to my back and take a long sip of coffee from the thermos.

I will save the day.

Even if I have to walk through fire to do it.

Chapter Two

Ashley

Penny wakes me up at five a.m. by licking my face.

I open my eyes, and though this is my second morning here waking without Dale, it takes a minute to acclimate myself. Right. I’m at Dale’s. Taking care of Penny while he’s… I have no idea where he is. Camping? The foothills? The mountains?

I know only that he’s not here and he’s not in the Syrah vineyards, where Penny and I were two evenings ago.

I rise and wrap myself in a robe. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I pad out to the kitchen and let Penny out. Then I prepare her morning meal from the mixture in the refrigerator. Only a day’s worth left. What then? In the pantry, I find a bag of high-end kibble. Good. That will work until I can make Penny something tastier and more nutritious.

Which also means a trip to the grocery store in town. Dale didn’t say how long he’d be gone, and I have to feed myself. I suppose I can always eat at the main house with Talon and Jade, but…

I sigh. Now what?

It’s only five thirty, and I’m wide awake. I let Penny back in, and she gobbles up her food. Dale likes to start at six or seven in the morning, so what the heck? I’ll shower, dress, and head to the vineyards. It’s still harvest, after all.

Once I’m ready to go, it’s six thirty, and my phone buzzes. It’s Ryan Steel.

“Hello,” I say into the phone.

“Ashley, it’s Ryan. Apparently Dale will be gone a few days.”

“I know,” I say. “I’m staying at his place and taking care of Penny. Did he tell you what he wants me to be working on?”

“No, he didn’t, but don’t you worry. There’s plenty to do.”

“For harvest, yeah.”

“Actually,” he says, “I’m taking you off harvest for now.”