Help Me Remember (Rose Canyon, #1)(31)

No, she said yes. She said yes so many times her throat hurt. She wasn’t wearing it because no one was supposed to know for a few more days.

“Maybe.”

“Dude, you’re like the most observant asshole I know, and you have no clue who the hell Brie was with?”

“It’s not like I stalk her.”

“No, but—”

“It doesn’t seem like Addison or her mother know either, why is that?”

Holden rubs his temple. “I don’t know. I guess none of us ever really know what people are hiding, but it’s crazy.” He shakes his head and then his eyes flash to me. “Do you think it’s whoever killed Isaac? Maybe Isaac found out about it, confronted the guy, and that is what got him killed?”

“It’s possible,” I lie to my best friend. “But I have no idea who killed Isaac.”

The more likely scenario is that Isaac would have killed me when I told him. No one in the world was more protective of Brielle than he was. He hated her boyfriend in high school and wanted to rip Henry’s throat out whenever he saw him.

“No, but if she said yes to the guy, you have to admit that it is completely possible that Isaac didn’t handle the news well, especially if she’d been hiding it from him.”

I smile. “No man would ever be good enough for Brie—definitely not to him.”

Holden chuckles. “I felt bad for her when we were kids. Can you imagine what Elodie would’ve endured? It’s sad she won’t get to know that.”

“She still has us, and we’re much older and more cynical now.”

“No shit. I don’t know, being old and cynical has its drawbacks too.”

“How so?”

“Life. Family. The idea of having nothing but a job to cling to. You get that,” Holden says with a shrug. “You have taken time off to figure your life out.”

And look where I am. “It wasn’t exactly like that. I basically had no choice. I can’t write, Holden. I have tried to write, what? Forty different stories? I sit there, stare at the screen, waiting for the words that refuse to come. I’ve tried every trick in the book and nothing. I’m not taking time off, I’m fucking blocked.”

Holden sighs through his nose. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not the same, and I know how it feels not to see progress. I’m struggling with the idea of leaving because I hoped Brielle would be a bit further along. The longer this goes, the more I fear it won’t return or it’ll be fragments. Then what, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.”

A long sigh comes from him, and he puts the glass on the coffee table. “If she does remember what happened, the defense is still going to use her memory loss against her. And that’s only if they get a chance to argue a case at all.”

“I think that’s what makes this so much harder to see her go through. Are they still trying to find a link between her office being trashed and the attack?”

“They are, but Emmett is being tight-lipped about it.”

Brielle’s office was ransacked, according to the information I got this morning. Papers were thrown around, her files completely ransacked, and the hard drive from her computer was missing. Her coworkers are trying to figure out what’s missing, but it’s a mess.

“It’s all really fucked up. I’m worried about Brie, Addison, you, Emmett, and everyone here.”

That one part causes me to jerk back. “Why the hell are you worried about me?”

“Besides the fact that you were close with Isaac and came back here mostly for him. Then there’s the whole thing with you and Brielle. You guys need to be careful.”

My palms start to sweat. “About?”

“That you don’t get too close. She’s always had that crush on you and it would be easy for her to form an attachment while she’s vulnerable.”

The fact that he’s even concerned about it gives me hope. I want that. I want her to look at me that way again, and if I can’t have the last year, I want the next one. “What makes you think that?”

“Just something Emmett said.”

I really wish he’d stop having me fish for info. I know Holden well enough that part of him is enjoying this, but it’s making me unduly paranoid that he and Emmett know something they shouldn’t. Asking him what Emmett said would be like throwing myself right into whatever trap he thinks he’s baiting me with, so I let it go. “You and Emmett are always worried about dumb shit.”

“And you are always taking risks.”

I decide to move off the topic of Brielle and point out the obvious.

“To be good at my job, it’s kind of a requirement.”

“Oh, and are you planning to work ever again?”

I run my hand over my face. “I’m trying.”

“Be honest for a second, Spencer, you have always wanted what you think you can’t have. Then, once you get it, because you always do, you tire of it. It’s why you go for these models and actresses. They are a quest. You’ve now peaked in your professional career and it scares you.”

Everything he said is true. I’m fucking terrified. I want to write. I miss the hunt of the story and the thrill of winning a Pulitzer. That’s gone.