Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(16)

Her long hair cascaded down her back. The soft brown had hints of blond woven through it that hadn’t been there before. I hated that I didn’t know when they’d appeared. Recently? In the weeks after I’d left?

The moonlight hit the swells of her cheeks, her skin picking up the rosy glow, even in the darkness. But the lack of light stole that mix of brown and green in her eyes from me. I would’ve given anything to see just how much green danced in them tonight.

Wren’s nickname had slipped from my tongue so easily that it was like I’d never stopped saying it. As if my mouth knew its shape better than any other word.

She froze, her muscles locking with a force that should’ve cracked bones, and then her head lowered to face me. “Holt.”

Everything about this was wrong: the cool expression on her face, the absence of emotion in her tone. A million questions played in my head; things I’d been dying to know the answer to for years—things I didn’t have a right to know.

“How are you?” It was the only thing I could allow myself to ask, and even that answer wasn’t something I deserved. But I craved it anyway.

“Good. I’m sure your parents are happy to have you home.”

The words came with a careful politeness that I’d never heard from Wren before. A flatness. An indifference.

Anything would’ve been better. Screaming. Crying. Slapping me across the damn face. Not staring at me like I was no one. A stranger.

I twisted my keys around my finger. “One of them is.”

I thought I might’ve seen a flicker of reaction, a little emotion bleeding through. But when I blinked, it was gone, and I wondered if it had simply been the moon and wishful thinking.

“I need to get home. Nice to see you, Holt. Hope you enjoy your stay.”

Wren was moving before I had a chance to say another word. She cut through the parking lot to a red truck that looked as if it had seen better days. I wanted to know the last time a mechanic had looked it over, and if the brakes were still sound. All the tiny details I didn’t have any right to. Things that had always given me a sense of purpose and pride.

Wren’s hair lifted in the breeze as she climbed behind the wheel. Her eyes never once strayed in my direction, instead remaining focused only on the parking lot around her.

I stayed frozen to the spot as she backed out and pulled onto the road. I didn’t breathe until her taillights disappeared altogether.

I’d been an idiot to think that I could handle seeing her. Even now, I swore I smelled a hint of gardenia on the breeze. Just like that perfume her grandma had gifted her all those years ago.

I wanted to roll around in it and burn it out of me all at the same time. I pulled my cell from my pocket and hit a contact. Two rings later, Lawson answered.

“Everything okay?”

Big brother, through and through.

“Is there somewhere around here I could hit a heavy bag tonight?”

Lawson was quiet for a moment. “I’m taking that as a no. Everything isn’t okay.”

“Just need a bag, Law.”

“Go to the station. We had a gym installed in the back. I’ll tell the officer on duty you’re approved to use it.”

“Thanks, man.”

He was silent again. “I’m here if you ever do want to talk about it.”

I swallowed the urge to snap at him. “Thanks.”

I hit end on the call before he could get another word in. I didn’t trust myself to hold it together any longer. Jogging up to the B&B, I prayed that Janice had already called it a night. I couldn’t be responsible for my actions if she started nosing around right now.

The reception area was blissfully silent as I moved through and took the stairs two at a time to the second floor. My hand trembled slightly as I moved to unlock the door to my room. I only gripped the key harder. A second later, I was inside.

I grabbed shorts, a tee, and some sneakers from my suitcase and quickly changed. Moments later, I was jogging down the block toward the police station. The door was locked, but as soon as the woman behind the desk saw me, she pressed a button, and I heard a buzz.

Pulling the door open, I stepped inside. “I’m Holt. My brother, Lawson, should have called about me using the gym.”

The woman swallowed, her jaw working. “I remember you. I’m Amber Raymond.”

A flash of memory lanced through me. A sea of black after a week of black. Her brother’s funeral had been the last one. And we’d all been so damn tired of grieving.

Five funerals. Six people in the hospital. Two assailants in jail. The possibility of a third never identified, leaving the town to question everyone around them. It was more than we could take. But I knew it was the worst for people like Amber—those left behind.

“Of course. Good to see you.”

“You, too. Gym’s down that hall.” She pointed.

“Thanks.” I was already moving, taking my opening to escape additional ghosts.

The room was dark when I stepped inside. I tried the lights one by one until I illuminated the heavy bag and nothing else. As I strode toward it, I pulled the hand wraps from my pocket and began weaving them through my fingers in a familiar rhythm.

It didn’t take long to get them in place. I pressed a fist to the bag, testing the weight and the feel. Even if a bag was an exact duplicate of the one you typically used, it was never the same. The people who laid into it each and every day shaped it. How many? Were they short or tall? How hard did they hit?