Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(30)

I reeled back. I’d been stabbed before. Shot. Had my arm broken by a particularly massive guy in the Russian mob. And none of that hurt even a fraction as much as this did.

The fire inside me burned impossibly brighter. The one that told me time and again just what a failure I was. Because I should’ve seen this coming.

My girl had always doubted. Struggled to see just how amazing she was. That she was more than enough. That she was everything.

Probably because those assholes who called themselves her parents never bothered to stick around long enough to make her think that she was worth their time. But I’d gone and let her believe the same brutal lie.

“I’m the one who’s not enough.”

Wren’s breath hitched in her throat, and her face lifted. Her eyes were swollen and red, her expression ravaged. “Liar.”

I wanted so badly to take her hands, pull her into my arms, and spill every truth. “I fucked up.”

Her eyes blazed. But the anger filling them was a welcome relief.

I held up both hands, silently begging for her to let me continue. “I was drowning in guilt, and I didn’t know how to face you. You were hurting so much, and it was all because of me.”

Wren reared back as if I’d struck her. “You didn’t shoot me.”

“I was late.” The words were barely audible as if dragged from my throat by sheer force of will alone. “I told you I’d be there. Promised you I wouldn’t be late.”

“You were always late.”

That only made it worse. I’d treated so many things in my life with such casual disregard, thinking that I could stroll in any damn moment I pleased. My throat tightened, putting a stranglehold on everything I wanted to tell her. “I should’ve been there.”

It wasn’t nearly enough, but it encompassed the truth. I should’ve been at Wren’s side. I’d given her my word. And I might as well have been a million miles away.

Wren stared at me as if trying to put together a puzzle when she’d lost the cover of the box. “The only thing that would’ve happened if you were there is that they would’ve shot you, too. Do you honestly believe that’s what I wanted?”

I shook my head manically as if that might get her to understand. “You were everything to me. It was my job to keep you safe. To take care of you.”

“We were supposed to take care of each other. That doesn’t mean it was your job to be my human shield.”

My jaw went hard as granite. “Five minutes difference and I would’ve been there.”

Wren leapt to her feet, green fire burning in her hazel eyes. “I don’t give a damn about the five minutes you missed that night. I give a damn about the last ten years you threw away.”





12





WREN





Tremors rocked through me as I gripped the steering wheel harder, taking each mountain curve quicker than the last. I’d capitalized on the brief reprieve of Holt’s stunned silence to slip behind the wheel of my truck and head for freedom.

Only freedom didn’t ease any of the pain. I’d thought if I didn’t have to see the look of devastation on his face—the true agony—that it would make it better. It didn’t.

Everything hurt. The pressure behind my eyes pulsed in a way that I knew meant a killer headache was on its way. My throat burned with the aftermath of my sobs. But that was nothing compared to the brutal tearing sensation deep inside my chest.

A riot of emotions sailed through me and moved so fast that I could barely identify one before the next steamrolled over it. Anger. Hurt. Bone-deep grief.

My vision blurred as I made it to town, and I had to blink to keep on the road. The moment the shops and restaurants started popping up, my phone began to ring. I didn’t bother looking down at it. The caller didn’t matter, and the last thing I needed was to get in a wreck on my way home.

My knuckles ached as I held onto the steering wheel, treating it as if it were my lifeline. And maybe it was. It gave me distance that had to help eventually.

The stranglehold my ribs had on my lungs eased a fraction as the town melted into my rearview mirror. I took the turnoff onto the gravel road that would take me home.

As the small cabin came into view, I breathed a little deeper. The glow of lights beckoned. This was my haven. My safe place.

A refuge I’d created for myself. Somewhere I could let down my walls and just be. There was no feeling of eyes on me. No pressure to keep it all together when I was falling apart.

My fingers shook as I pulled the keys from the ignition. I gripped them tightly and started for the door. As soon as I was within range of the cabin, my cell started ringing again. And for the first time, I cursed the cell signal amplifier that Chris and Jude had put in for me. They’d intended it for safety, but now it felt intrusive, like maybe I wasn’t so free of those eyes after all.

I struggled to get the key into the lock as Shadow let out a happy bark behind the door. Finally, I succeeded, and the door opened. Shadow danced and twirled in circles in the entryway.

I let out a laugh that turned into a sob, and she immediately stilled. Shoving the door closed, I slid to the floor. Shadow moved to me instantly, burrowing against my side. My arms came around her, and I pressed my face to her neck as I let my tears fall freely.