He fanned the pictures over the table as Rogue moved forward. She stared down at them as he did, that same black fury growing inside him as her hand lifted to his arm and her fingers tightened there.

“Oh God,” she whispered when she came to the pictures that incriminated the man he had once thought of as a brother. The picture of Gene, his father, and Thad as they stood together with another couple, all dressed in camo gear, rifles held easily in their arms.

The couple they stood with was Dayle Mackay and Nadine Grace.

“They were a part of the Freedom League,” she whispered as she stared at the pictures.

“Even Gene.”

It wasn’t hard to miss. The FL was emblazoned on the shoulders of their camo gear, but even more incriminating were the bound bodies in front of them. The dead bodies of two state police officers that had gone missing ten years ago.

It was an unsolved case, one that Zeke had been investigating himself for years. All this time, and the proof was under his nose.

“Goddammit, all this time.” He swung away from her, the fury erupting inside him. “I had the proof all this time. That son of a bitch father of mine was sending Mom sealed envelopes of pictures and she never even opened them. Boxes of information, of proof.

She kept them in boxes in a frigging rental unit in Los Angeles and never even opened them.”

Because she had known what they were. He’d read parts of her journals, bits and pieces.

No one would have suspected Thad Mayes of sending his ex-wife anything so incriminating. She hadn’t been a part of the League—it was the reason for their divorce—but still, she had kept his secrets, kept his evidence against himself and the men he had banded together with.

Just in case, she had written in her journal. He had asked her to take anything he sent her and place it, unopened, in a safe place. He’d collect it later, he had promised. He had never collected it.

A few months before her death she had written in that last journal that Thad was going to make life easier for her. Zeke was grown and on his own, and it was time she enjoyed her life. She’d threatened to turn the pictures over to the authorities. Pictures she had taken while she had been with him, pictures of the men that had formed the Freedom League. She’d had no idea the proof she had actually held in that damned rental unit.

Proof far more incriminating than what she’d had herself.

She’d stored that journal away, the last one she had written in before she was killed. A year later, Thad Mayes had died in another inferno that had burned his body and any evidence he may have kept himself. That had been mere months after the picture of the two dead state police officers had been taken.

“Joe and Jaime were seeing Gene’s youngest daughter, Cammi,” Rogue said faintly.

“That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?”

Zeke felt as though the tension was going to break him apart. His muscles, his bones, were tight with the fury racing through him.

“She had to have been the girl they were seeing. Joe and Jaime knew Gene was a part of the Freedom League,” he said harshly. “They knew, and they didn’t say anything because of Cammi. Because they were in love with her. But someone overheard a conversation they had. One where Jaime stated that Gene was a part of what happened last year with the Mackays. That he’d use it against her father if he caused them too much trouble. They died because of what they knew, and that’s why Callie Walker died as well. Because Gene had to keep his part in this a secret.” His fists clenched at his side.

“Because he was still a part of the League.”

“Do you have proof?”

Zeke shook his head. “All I have is proof that he was part of the League, and the deaths of those officers.”

“What are you going to do, Zeke?” she asked. “Gene is at the bar looking for you. He said he’d been trying to contact you all day. He has to be suspicious.”

“I’ve faxed the pictures to Agent Cranston,” he told her as he turned to her. “I want you to stay here, Rogue, where you’ll be safe. No one will know you’re here. The bar could be torched with you in it. They don’t care to kill innocent bystanders. I’m meeting the Mackay cousins and Agent Cranston in town in an hour. We’ll take care of this tonight.

All of it.”

He’d been busy. The moment Teddy Winfred’s information had clicked in his brain Zeke had come home to search for the pictures he had himself from his youth. In searching for them, he’d found the boxes of sealed, mailed envelopes his mother had kept. The information in her journals had shocked him, enraged him. It had taken most of the day to find everything, and there were still more to go through. But he had what he needed.

“What about Cammi?” she asked. “She’s not part of this, Zeke.”

He stared at her in surprise. Cammi had never been kind to Rogue. She had sneered at her, insulted her countless times over the years, but still Rogue was thinking of her.

And, as Rogue stated, Cammi was innocent of everything but wanting the wrong men.

He hoped.

“We’ll watch out for Cammi,” he promised her. “I want your promise that you’ll stay here, keep your phone off, stay out of contact.”

He held her gaze, willing, determined that she would do exactly as he wanted her to do.

He couldn’t give her promises yet, he couldn’t let himself believe in promises yet, not until this was finished.

“What aren’t you telling me?” She asked the question he hoped she wouldn’t. “How are you involved in this, Zeke?”

He leaned against the old desk, crossed his arms over his chest, and watched her carefully.

“Look at those pictures again,” he told her softly. “The earlier ones, Rogue. I was fourteen before Mom divorced that bastard. The League is generational, baby. I was a part of it before we went to Los Angeles. Before I even understood what it meant, I was there. I hunted with them, I listened to their plans, and I let myself be convinced I was right, they were right. This is why I came back, to see it finished. The Mackays cut off the head of the organization, but the body’s still alive. It can reform if it’s not finished.

This will finish it. My mother and my wife were killed as a warning. Gene has to know how close I am to revealing his part in this. I can’t risk you. I’d die if I lost you.”

“There’s more.” She shook her head, those flaming curls whispering around her shoulders and down her back as she stared back at him from the most beautiful eyes in the world.

He’d tried to hide from what he felt for her. From the time he first saw her, until now.

As though a veil lifted from his soul, Zeke saw what he didn’t want to see. Emotions fueled by needs. The knowledge that this one woman had been created for him. She could be his greatest strength or his greatest weakness in the hands of his enemies.

“You’ve played everyone,” she finally said softly. “You’ve suspected all this, all along.

Didn’t you?”

He barely managed to hide his surprise.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.” He forced himself away from the table, paced to the other side of the room, then turned back to her.

“You suspected Gene was a part of the League and that Joe and Jaime had somehow been killed because of the group.”

She hadn’t moved, but her gaze followed him, thoughtful, partially angry.

“What part did I play in this, Zeke?” she asked him as she waved her hand toward the scattered papers and pictures. “How did sleeping with me help you to get where you were trying to go?”

His jaw clenched. Hell, he was hoping she wouldn’t see that, because while that’s what it may have begun as, it wasn’t finishing that way.

“They were watching me,” he finally said softly. “They were focused on my investigation of Joe and Jaime’s death. They weren’t watching DHS or the Mackay boys.

Cranston was never suspended from duty, officially. The Mackays were never off the case. Gene’s been watching you for years, simply because you were Calvin’s daughter and because Jonesy tried to protect you. He wondered what you knew, what Jonesy knew. I let them focus on that while the others did their job.”

Rogue felt the pain explode in her chest as Zeke stared back at her. The lack of emotion in his voice, in his eyes, cut her to the quick.

“It was all some elaborate ruse then?” she whispered. “It was never about us, was it, Zeke?”

“I couldn’t afford for it to be about us, Rogue,” he said softly as he turned away from her again. “Not yet.”

He wasn’t turning away because he couldn’t bear to see her hurt, she saw. He was turning away to collect the weapons that lay on the other side of the room. His gun belt and weapon, which he strapped on efficiently. The rifle he collected from the side of the wall.

“You’re an intelligent woman,” he said, his tone so precise, so cool she felt flayed by the very lack of emotion in it. “Stay here where you’re safe. Stay off the phone. I’ll let you know when it’s finished.”

She fought back her tears and her anger. She tried to swallow and felt as though she would choke from the tightness in her throat.

“John,” she whispered. “What about my brother?”

God, John had been right all along. This wasn’t about love, it wasn’t about anything Zeke might want from her emotionally. It was about a very elaborate deception. It was all about his job, nothing more.

“Natches has John out of the way,” he promised her. “He’s safe. You’re safe. Now let me clean up my town and undo the damage Thad Mayes did to this county without leaving any more scars on my conscience.”

Scars on his conscience. He was protecting her so he wouldn’t feel any guilt if she ended up hurt. It was no more than that. She wanted to go to her knees from the pain; instead, she managed to hold her head upright and even managed to nod.

“By all means.” She forced a tight smile to her face; she even managed not to shed a tear. “I’m sure I can find something to do here while you’re out saving the world.” She waved her hand negligently back at him. “Have fun, Sheriff Mayes.”

Be safe, Zeke. She whispered the words silently as he turned and headed for the stairs.

She wouldn’t cry yet, she promised herself. She wasn’t going to let herself shed more tears for another betrayal. She’d shed enough, she’d lost enough dreams. She wouldn’t lose her pride as well.

His foot rested on the first step before he paused. His back was still to her when he said,

“I didn’t want things to be this way.”

Lips trembling, she had to force back the cry welling in her soul. She hated him. Oh God, she hated him! She hated him just as much as she loved him.

“But they are,” she said, barely holding back the pain now. “We’ll talk later, Zeke. You have a job to do. Right?”

He nodded, his head still turned away. “I have a job to do.”

With that, he moved quickly up the stairs and left her alone with a basement filled with his memories, his life. Pictures and boxes of mementos. Sand in a bottle. Seashells. A framed picture of his wedding day. Shane’s first photo as a newborn. And stacks of pictures from Zeke’s childhood.

She turned and stared around the basement, willing her heart not to shatter into the pieces she knew it had already shattered into. She could feel the jagged wound in her soul and the ache that seemed never ending.

Pressing her hand into her stomach she pushed back the sob locked in her throat and took a deep, hard breath. Her knees were shaking, her hands trembling, and damn Zeke Mayes to hell, there were tears on her face.

Her breathing hitched as she wrapped her arms across her breasts and turned away from the pictures, the story he had told her. There were gaps, there was something missing. Something he hadn’t told her.