Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(36)

I tried to put myself in his shoes and imagine what it would have been like to walk in on him like that. I’d seen the photos of the aftermath at the trial—the white tile floor smeared with so much blood it seemed impossible for anyone to have lived through it.

An image flashed in my mind. Holt crumpled on the floor, a gaping hole in his chest. I felt the panic coursing through me, the desperation to stop the blood. To help.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the nightmare. Holt’s hand encircled mine. “Hey, what’s going on?”

The burn was back, lighting up my throat and encasing my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers lifted to my face, ghosting over my cheek and brushing the hair out of my eyes. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry you found me like that.”

Holt’s hand stilled. “I just wish I had been earlier.”

“Don’t. Please, don’t wish that.” My gaze lifted to his, the pull undeniable. “They would’ve hurt you, too. Could’ve killed you.”

His fingers tightened in my hair. “I don’t care. We would’ve found a way out. A way through.”

“You did find that. You kept me breathing. Kept me alive. You think that’s nothing?”

A muscle fluttered in Holt’s jaw. “It’s not nearly enough. You shouldn’t have had to face it alone.”

My gaze locked on Holt’s. “I need you to do something for me.”

He didn’t say a word.

I looked at the watch. “I haven’t asked you for anything, not for almost ten years.” Not since he’d left me with only a goodbye scribbled on some notebook paper. “I need you to do just one thing for me.”

“What?” The single word was a hoarse whisper.

I lifted my head so I could look into Holt’s eyes, our faces just a breath away from each other. “Forgive yourself. Let this go before it destroys you.”

It had already cost him so much: our relationship. His bond with his family. It was time to release these demons.

Holt stared at me, and so much emotion swirled in those deep blue depths. “I don’t know if I can.”

My hand locked around his wrist, squeezing. “If I don’t blame you, you sure as hell shouldn’t blame yourself. Honestly, it’s insulting that you think I would.”

“I don’t—I just…”

“You what?”

“It tortures me. The thought of you alone and scared. Knowing they were coming and having to hide in a damn cabinet, just praying you’d be safe. Seeing the gun and knowing what was coming. And you were alone. I can’t stand that you were alone.”

“I wasn’t.”

Holt’s hand flinched as his expression filled with endless questions.

“You were with me. In that moment where I knew what was coming? I pictured you. Imagined what it felt like to have your arms around me.”

“Wren.” My name was a ravaged sound on his lips.

“So, you didn’t leave me alone.” Not until he walked away and didn’t look back.

Holt’s forehead pressed to mine. Our breaths mingled. “Wren…”

It would be so easy to close that distance. To remember what it felt like to lose myself in Holt’s arms, instead of having to imagine each night as I fell asleep. But how much worse would it hurt if he walked away again?

I jerked back. “I need to go to bed. I have work tomorrow.”

I bolted for my bedroom before Holt had a chance to say another word. But as I climbed beneath the sheets and burrowed against Shadow’s side, I knew sleep wouldn’t find me tonight.





As I stepped out of the bathroom, I listened. At first, there was nothing. Then I heard a soft hum.

I let a few curses fly under my breath. So much for leaving first thing in the morning. I started for the kitchen, refusing to take the coward’s way out and making a run for my truck.

As I rounded the corner, I blinked. The bar counter was set with two placemats and cloth napkins. Little bowls of sliced fruit were on one side, and glasses of orange juice on the other. Shadow let out a happy bark as she danced around the space. And there, looking right at home, was Holt.

“I hope you don’t mind. I took her out a little bit ago,” Holt said as he slid two scrambles with toast onto the place settings.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine.” I stared at the sight in front of me. “What is this?”

That devilish smile spread across Holt’s face. “Pretty sure it’s breakfast.”

I glared at him. “I know that.”

His grin only grew. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and from what I remember, cereal was about all you had mastered.”

“I know how to cook.” I wasn’t a chef by any means, but I could handle the basics. I just hated doing it. The memories of that night had ruined all culinary attempts, so I lived on frozen meals and takeout most of the time. The fact that Holt had found enough ingredients to make the feast before us was shocking.

He pulled out one of the stools. “Sit. Please. I want to run something by you.”

I eyed him warily but lowered myself to the stool. The scramble smelled amazing.

“Why are you glaring at your breakfast?” Holt asked as he sat next to me.