Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(17)
Her eyes widen, but Spencer steps forward, points to the corner, and asks, “Do you see that car?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a friend of Emmett’s. He was a Green Beret who did four tours in Iraq and Afghanistan. He can probably kill us with a pencil from his vehicle.”
I gasp. “That’s not reassuring.”
“It is to me.”
I shake my head. “Someone isn’t going to be able to watch over me at all times.”
He raises one brow. “Want to make a bet? Emmett and I hired Cole Security Forces to maintain full security on both you and Addy until Isaac’s killer is caught and we know you’re not at risk. We have no idea if the person who attacked you and killed Isaac is a woman or a man, who they were actually after, or why they did it. Yeah, we are being a little overprotective, but we promised you that you’d be safe, and I don’t feel bad about it. In fact, I’m rather happy, and I think your brother would be too.”
The fierce protectiveness in his voice causes me to step back a little. I can see the stress in his eyes, and I would be lying if I said I don’t feel a little more comfortable.
My mother’s fingers settle around my forearm. “Knowing that does make me feel a lot better about leaving.”
He nods once. “No one is willing to lose you too, Brielle.”
“I know.”
He forces a smile and glances toward the building. “How about we go inside and get started?”
I exhale, nerves hitting me again. “Okay.”
I really hope I find out that I like the person behind the door.
Chapter Six
BRIELLE
Standing here, looking at my things, my life, the desolation is overwhelming.
The apartment is all exposed brick and ductwork, and my furniture is almost industrial, but I have never really considered myself a modern type girl. It’s all clean lines, and nothing about the space feels personal. I enter the kitchen, my fingers sliding along the cool cement countertop as I take in the dark wood cabinets.
It’s beautiful. Even in its lack of warmth.
“Anything?” My mother’s voice is full of hope.
I close my eyes for a second, waiting for something to happen, but there’s nothing. I don’t remember moving in or picking out the couch, or the painting on the wall over the entryway table that adorns my loft. I wander toward where my bedroom must be, hoping that might help. Maybe a memory of Henry and me or, hell, anything.
I take in the space as I pass the bathroom before finding the bedroom. There is a plush rug under the very large poster bed that has two nightstands. Off to the right is what I assume is a closet, and there’s a dresser opposite. I walk there first.
I lift a glass frame with a photo of me holding a tiny baby, and I glance to where Spencer and my mom linger in the doorway. “Is this Elodie?”
Mom smiles. “It is.”
I don’t remember her or this photo, but she’s blonde, and on the lines of her nose, I see my brother. “She’s going to be beautiful,” I mutter almost to myself.
“She’s the best parts of Isaac and Addy.”
“How old is she now?” I ask, praying someone answers.
“She’s eight months old,” Spencer says without hesitation.
I place the photo back down and grab the next. It’s me and my dad a few weeks before he died. Then behind that is one of me at graduation with my brother and the three idiots. All of us are laughing at something, Emmett is holding my cap above me, Isaac is smiling so wide as he reaches for it, and Holden has his hands on my honor’s sash. And then there’s Spencer. His arm is wrapped around my waist, holding me as I am almost falling back, reaching for my stolen items.
I look up to find him watching me. “What?”
“I remember this anyway, but it feels like the first time I’ve seen this picture,” I say with a nervous laugh.
It’s strange because I can hear Isaac instructing Emmett to toss it, Holden’s deep laugh as I started to fall a little, and then the feeling of Spencer grabbing me. As much as there was the feel of him touching me, I remember the safety. The fact that I never once believed I would ever hit the ground because he wouldn’t drop me.
Strange.
On the other side is Isaac and Addison’s wedding photo, but nothing else. No Henry, which if we are together, why don’t I have pictures?
A phone rings, and Mom reaches into her bag. “It’s the store,” she says before going into the other room.
Spencer walks toward me. “What do you feel?”
I sigh, placing the photo down. “Confused. I don’t know this place or the things in it. I don’t understand why, if I’m still with Henry, he doesn’t seem to exist in here. He made it seem like he loves me and that I love him.”
“Maybe he does love you.”
“Then why isn’t he here? Why is it that you’re helping me when he isn’t? Better yet, why didn’t I think to ask him?” I pause. “I don’t think that I’m with Henry anymore and everyone was too afraid to tell me. I mean, he didn’t even show up to my brother’s funeral. You’re like the last guy in the world who would be in a serious relationship, and you wouldn’t do that.”