The Darkest Part (Living Heartwood #1)(79)

But, the specialists claim a dark entity can be captured with flash photography. And for a specter like Tyler, one that is very present, his spirit should appear in a photo. I never needed the proof before, because I told myself it was all bullshit. I already had all the proof in the world.

Holden’s words, though . . . his proof? Makes more sense. I want to believe Tyler’s not stuck here on this plane, or fading into limbo. I want to free us both from the darkness.

With a shaky hand, I turn my phone around and look at the screen.

A hotel bathroom.

No Tyler. No aura. No dark entity.

“Sam.” Tyler’s voice slices through me. “I told you. I’d stay as long as you needed me.”

An ache builds in my chest, suffocating me. I breathe through the searing. “I know . . . and you did.” A tear releases from the corner of my eye. “And I think . . . I’m okay now.” I smile.

His full lips stretch into a sad smile. “You are. And I promise I’m somewhere good. And no matter what, I’ll always love you.”

Hot tears spill from my eyes. I shut them, releasing more down my cheeks, and when I open them, Tyler’s fading. His aura growing dimmer until finally he’s gone. “I’ll love you, Tyler. Forever.” I hold out my hand to the emptiness of my mind. “Goodbye.”





Holden

Resting my temple against my fist, I stare down at Sam as she sleeps. Her hair is spread over the pillow, and she releases little clipped snores that are so adorable I can’t help the dumbass smile on my face. Oh, I’m a total creeper. But I’m owning it. On a full-on high, and I’m going to watch her and touch her until she’s sick of me.

But right now, nature calls, and my morning wood that went from firm to rock hard the moment I woke with her in my arms is becoming painful. Easing out of bed so I don’t wake her, I drop my feet to the floor and then saunter, like the sex god that I am, to the bathroom.

Memories of last night replay in my head. Vivid images of Sam. Hot as hell. We have shit to discuss today. Lots of shit. But for right now, I just want to enjoy her. Not worry about how I’m going to see her when I live more than four hours away. I mean, if she’s taking her meds, and she’s getting better, she’ll want to go back to college. And she should.

Then there’s still the issue of my brother’s ghost. Even though last night she committed herself to getting well, she’s not there yet. It’s going to take time. And therapy. I’ll be there for her, but I know this will be a battle.

And then . . . there’s the real shit. The stuff I’ve kept from her. Stepping away from the toilet, I brace my hands on the counter and stare at myself in the mirror. Fuck. I’m a bastard. An evil one. But I’ve kept things from her for so long, I can’t stomach her finding out now. I can’t lose her.

Because when she does know, she’ll want to get as far away from me as she can.

It’s only a matter of time, though. I can’t continue on like this. I don’t want to keep lying to her. Shit. I slam a fist against the counter.

My f*cked up brain has effectively ruined any chance at a good day with her. Shaking my head, I push off from the counter and curse.

As I enter the room, I search the floor for my bag. Leaning over next to the desk, I dig through it, then slip on a pair of boxers. My sight lands on a small notebook lying on the desk chair. More of Sam’s sketches, maybe. I pick it up and thumb through the pages. Pages and pages of scrawl.

My brother’s sloppy scrawl.

I feel my skin pale as the blood drains from my face, sending a million pinpricks all over my body. Then anger bites at my chest, fire-hot.

Sam stirs in the bed, drawing my attention. “Hey, you.” She beams, then her smile falls right off her face as she sees what I’m holding.

“This?” I ask her. “This is how you knew those things?” She flinches at my harsh tone, but I keep on. “Tell me this is not how you knew all that shit. I thought . . .” I press my lips together and grip the notebook. “I actually thought, during really messed up moments, he could be here. You had my head f*cking reeling. And then I find this.” My words are spitting from my mouth in heated accusation. And I know, with all my lies, I have no right. But f*ck.

Sam pulls the covers around her as she sits up, suddenly hiding herself from me. “He didn’t want anyone to know about it, Holden. I couldn’t tell you.”

I scoff. “Yeah? And he gave it to you? His ghost gave you permission to read it?”

Her face crumples, stricken. Like I just reached out and slapped her. But then, composing herself, she narrows her eyes. “Why are you really so pissed off? Huh?” She tosses the covers off and then stalks toward me.

I drop my gaze. “Put some clothes on.”

She laughs darkly. “After last night . . . are you serious?”

My eyes lift to hers. “I can’t think straight otherwise,” I grit out.

Shaking her head, she reaches down and scoops her shirt off the floor. As she’s slipping it over her head, she says, “I thought he might’ve written something in it before the accident.” She flips her hair out from beneath the collar, then pins me with a hard glare. “That I could find something for you to use . . . I don’t know. To help with the case.”

And like I’ve been punched, my stomach clenches. “Did you?” I wait, my breath stuck in my chest.