Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(26)

The deadness in his voice should’ve been my first sign. He would hold my hand and kiss my temple, but never did his mouth meet mine. He was a fierce defender, keeping away the reporters and the morbidly curious, but was never truly alone with me.

It was embarrassing now—how clear it had been that he’d wanted nothing to do with me. Yet I’d been stunned as I’d read the damn letter.

“Wren.”

I breathed a sigh of relief at the sound of Chris’s voice, then spun in my chair. “Hey.”

The planes of his face were etched with concern. “I heard what happened. You okay?”

Annoyance sparked and flickered under my skin. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He was quiet for a moment. “The, uh, break-in call. It would make sense if it brought back memories.”

“My house wasn’t broken into. We should be worried about Jane.” And I’d make sure I went by her place sometime in the next few days to talk to her. It helped to have someone who’d been there.

The survivors of the shooting and I had formed a sort of club—the type that none of us wanted to be a member of. Those we’d lost held honorary membership. Five dead. Six injured. Students. Teachers. A coach. Innocent bystanders who had gotten in the way. Randy and Paul had made a hit list of every person they thought had ever wronged them and had ticked them off one by one.

Chris stared at me for a moment. “It’s okay to not always have it together. It’s normal. What you went through—”

“Don’t,” I bit out. “I’ve done the therapy thing. I don’t need my head shrunk by my friends, too.”

He winced, and I instantly felt like the worst kind of jerk.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

Chris waved me off. “I get it. I just want you to know that I’m there for you if you ever need to talk. Or not talk. I’m also good with takeout and beer.”

The corner of my mouth lifted. “Only if it’s a pepperoni and pineapple from Wildfire.”

Chris’s face screwed up. “That’s just wrong, and you know it.”

“Don’t judge my culinary choices.”

“You mean your culinary crimes.”

I only grinned wider. “You’ve never even tried it.”

He shuddered. “I’ll get you your pizza crime. I’ll stick with meat lovers.”

“Fine.”

“How about tonight?”

I pulled my phone out to check my calendar and froze. In big letters was Family Dinner at the Hartleys’. I was over there at least once a month but had made these plans with Grae last week—before everything had changed.

“You got plans?” Chris prodded.

“Uh, yeah.”

“With who?”

“Grae,” I said, still staring at my phone. Maybe she’d meet me in town instead.

Chris nodded. “Later this week then. Tell G hi.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Wren.”

My head snapped up at Lawson’s voice. Chris had left, and I hadn’t even realized it. I’d still been staring at that tiny calendar square on my phone like it was a cobra poised to strike.

I shoved my cell into my desk drawer so the damn thing couldn’t taunt me. “Can you come to my office for a minute?”

Dread pooled in my stomach. “No one else is on duty. Abel went to lunch and—”

“I’m back,” he grumbled, sliding into the cubicle next to mine. “Go talk to Lawson so he isn’t hovering over me.”

“I love you, too, Abel,” Lawson said with a chuckle.

“Holler if you need me,” I told Abel as I rose from my chair.

“Who do you think you’re talking to, missy? I was the only dispatcher on duty for almost a decade.”

His indignant response had my lips curving. “Of course. And you walked to school in four feet of snow, uphill both ways.”

“Damn straight. Now, get out of my space and let me focus.”

I shook my head and followed Lawson toward his office. But the moment we stepped inside, and he’d shut the door, any flickers of amusement fled.

“Have a seat,” Lawson said as he moved to his chair.

I worried the side of my lip as I followed his order. “Am I about to get fired?”

Lawson’s eyes flared. “I sure as hell hope not because you’re the best dispatcher I have.”

“Abel’s the best dispatcher you have.”

“He’s good in a crisis, but he’s ornery on a good day. He doesn’t have even a smidge of the empathy you do.”

I leaned back against the chair, a little of the worry draining out of me. “Abel has all the empathy in the world. He just hides it under crankiness.”

A grin pulled at Lawson’s mouth. “You may be right there. Either way, you’re my number one.”

I arched a brow. “You sure that’s not because you’ve been looking out for me basically since I was born?”

The twelve years separating him from Grae and me had meant that he was always protective, but over his younger brothers, too. He shrugged. “Maybe. But who says I can’t have favorites?”

“I have a feeling human resources might frown on that.”