Whispers of You (Lost & Found #1)(78)

He didn’t have much: boxer briefs and workout gear, a few pairs of jeans, tees and flannels, his jacket and boots he’d already stored in the hall closet.

I made quick work of arranging his belongings in the drawers, and the corners of my mouth kicked up as I thought about making this place truly ours. Of having more of Holt’s belongings mixed with mine. Of picking out art for the walls or painting the rooms a different color.

My hands skimmed the inside of the duffel. I pulled out his watch repair kit, placing it on the top of the dresser. My gaze caught on something at the bottom of the bag. It was so thin that I’d almost missed it.

The flash of color had caught my attention—a tiny glimpse of pink in the sea of black that was the bag’s interior. My fingers curled around what felt like plastic.

Lifting it, my heart stuttered in my chest. It was a photo. One laminated for protection but worn by the years. The corner was peeling back, and some of the plastic had been rubbed away in places.

It was the two of us. When I took in the image, it was like looking at babies—so young, with no idea what would come our way. But so unbelievably happy.

Holt had his arms wrapped around me while I had my face pressed to his neck. I wore a coral sundress that I’d bought just for the barbecue at his parents’ house. This had been only days before the attack.

I’d never seen the photo, but it was us, Holt making me safe and at peace in his hold, and me grounding him and assuring him of just how amazing he was. I loved that us. But I thought I’d love the us we were now even more. Because I’d found a strength I hadn’t known I possessed when I had to face life alone. And it only made me love Holt more. Appreciate him more.

And Holt could see that new strength in me. I recognized it in the glint of respect that shone in his eyes. It would never change that he wanted to shield me from the worst life had to offer, but that was who Holt was. I loved that he was the kind of man who wanted to protect everyone he cared about.

A knock sounded on the front door, pulling me out of my sappy thoughts. I started down the hall, but my steps faltered. I slid my phone from my back pocket and opened the camera app Holt had set up for me. A familiar SUV sat in my drive, and I sighed as I took in the person on my front step.

Forcing myself forward, I opened the front door. “Hey, Amber.”

She smiled at me, but the curve of her mouth was anything but genuine. “Wren. Can I come in?”

Normally, I would’ve taken whatever punches she felt the need to dole out, but I was done with it. “That depends on why you’re here.”

The fake smile slipped from her mouth. “That’s rude.”

I shrugged. “I’m all about protecting my peace these days.”

A hardness slid into Amber’s gaze, and she moved so fast I didn’t have a chance to brace. She shoved me hard, pushing me inside the house, then pulling a gun and leveling it at my chest. “You know what, Wren? I don’t really give a damn about your peace.”

The gun swung out in a flash, cracking across my temple and sending me hurtling into the dark.





39





HOLT





Shadow shoved her head out the window as Nash guided his SUV up the mountain roads. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth, and she let out a bark.

“I think someone’s happy,” my dad said.

I turned in the back seat, taking Shadow and giving her a rub. “It’s good for her to get out a little more. Wren had someone walking her in the middle of her shifts, but Shadow has a lot of energy.”

Dad surveyed me from the front passenger seat. “You and Wren are getting into a rhythm.”

It wasn’t a question, but it held a gentle probe. My hackles didn’t rise like they would’ve just days ago. What I had told Wren was true—I loved that she’d had my family for all the years I wasn’t here and that they were protective of her. That they’d developed a true closeness.

“It’s going to take time, but we’re getting there.”

He nodded but didn’t look away. “I’m sorry if how I acted when you came home made you feel like I didn’t believe in you. I love both of you, and there’s nothing I want more than seeing you happy.”

Instead of hiding behind a mask of indifference, I kept my walls down. I let my dad see everything I normally hid with practiced ease. I let the regret and grief rise to the surface. The pain and self-torture. “I love her, Dad. I never stopped. I really did think I was doing the right thing.”

He twisted farther in his seat. “I know that, Holt. I never thought you left for selfish reasons. But relationships are hard. They’re work. You have to stick it out even when it seems like running would be easier on everyone.”

A muscle flickered in my jaw.

“He’s not running, Dad,” Nash said from the driver’s seat. “He needed time to get his head on straight. Living without Wren has taught him more than any of your lectures ever could.”

I studied my brother. He was typically so easygoing, but there was a tension in him now: the way his knuckles bleached white around the wheel, the way his jaw locked tight. And something in his expression said that he knew about regret all too well.

“He’s right.” I looked at Dad. “I get that you might have reservations. But they aren’t going to stop me. I know the agony of living without Wren, of falling asleep thinking about her every night. Of wondering where she is and if she’s safe. Happy. Of imagining her falling in love with someone who isn’t me. Starting a family.”