DONOVAN (Gray Wolf Security, #1)(25)

We knew Joshua expected us at the party—to arrive separately, of course—by midnight. But we lingered longer than we should have. It wasn’t just the physical part of it—though that was more magical than I’d expected my first time to be. Friends warned me it would be painful, that it would be awkward and embarrassing. It wasn’t. Donovan was gentle and kind, as nervous as I was. Beyond that…we talked. Donovan and Joshua were headed off to Stanford. I was headed to the University of San Francisco just across the bridge. We talked about getting an apartment together our sophomore year. We talked about all the activities we would do together, all the firsts we would share. We talked about the future—when we had a future.

By the time we got to the beach, Amanda was frantic. She rushed up to the parking lot, screaming about my missing brother. Joshua had gone to get some more beer from a local convenience store—with a fake ID—hours ago but hadn’t come back. But his car was there, parked right next to where Donovan had parked his.

“I’ll go north,” Donovan said. “You go south.”

I ran. I knew this section of the beach like the back of my hand because it was where we hung out. It was like an extension of the high school. I stopped and asked everyone I passed who wasn’t too drunk to understand words if they’d seen him. I ran up and down the beach, twice. Three times. And then Donovan’s text.

I found him. Don’t come.

Of course I went. I ran. And he was there, on the beach, his blood washing away with the tied. Tears were running down Donovan’s face. I’d never seen a man cry, not even my dad when my mom died. That frightened me more than the bloody mess that was my brother’s face.

There was a rock. I remember thinking it was odd, that rock, just sitting there. I didn’t realize it was the murder weapon at the time because we didn’t know what had happened at first. The ambulance came, the paramedics trying to clear his nose and mouth so that he could breathe. They worked on him so long that I didn’t know what to think. Then the ambulance left and Donovan grabbed my hand, dragged me to his car so we could follow. I vaguely remember him calling my dad, telling him what had happened. I think that was the first time I heard someone say the word beaten.

The rest…it was a blur. But when they told us that John Kyle, Reese Connor, and Tony Smith were arrested, I knew. And I knew it was Donovan’s fault.

I was there when Joshua warned him to be careful.

“It was just a prank,” Donovan said. “One last hurrah before graduation.”

“Yeah, but to pin it on John Kyle and the others? Not smart,” Joshua said. “I heard that John was arrested last month for stealing a car. Not the kind of guy you should be getting tangled up with.”

“John’s harmless. Just a wimp trying to pretend he’s a tough guy. I can deal with him.”

“Yeah, well, I hope so. Otherwise you might have just put into motion something we’ll all regret.”

Joshua knew what Donovan had done. And he was the one to pay the price.

I glanced toward the kitchen and caught Ash peeking out at me. I inclined my head and he turned away, going back to Donovan. He touched his shoulder, saying something that clearly upset Donovan. I could see it in his eyes—even if he restrained himself from showing it in any other way.

I knew him so well. Loved him once upon a time.

Maybe that was what it was. Maybe that part of me that loved him then wanted to finish what we started that night. Maybe I just needed to get him out of my system.

Maybe I just…

Was it my imagination, or was someone rattling the doorknob?

“Someone’s here!”

I stood, moving back as far into the corner of the room as I could get. Ash and Donovan came immediately, Donovan watching me, the gun I’d seen earlier in the evening suddenly back in his hands. Ash, too, holding a gun low in front of him.

The door rattled again, and then opened, the woman I’d seen with Donovan earlier in the day laughing as she stepped into the house.

“Oh, hey,” she said, holding up her hands, as she realized how much gun power was focused on her. “I thought you knew we were here.”

Ash relaxed, sliding his gun into a holster strapped around his arms and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket.

What the…?

“Yep, here it is. Sorry, love.”

He kissed the woman’s cheek, as a tall, husky man came through the door behind her. I recognized him immediately as the police chief here in Santa Monica…Jack Warren.

The woman glanced at me, assessing me—did she think of me as competition?—then turned to Donovan. My heart twisted in my chest, as he grinned affectionately at her.

“Twice in one day,” she said with a big smile. “My lucky day.”

“Hey, Em,” he said, bending to kiss her cheek.

She slapped his cheek lightly, almost maternally, then marched into the room and held her hand out to me.

“I’m Detective Emily Warren. You must be Miss Thompson.”

I hesitated, but Donovan offered a slight nod, telling me it was okay.

“Nice to meet you,” I said politely, taking her hand, still so confused by what was going on here. Why was Donovan’s girlfriend here?

She squeezed my hand warmly as she looked me up and down, clearly assessing me for a reason I wasn’t quite clear on. Then she nodded as she stepped back.