The echo of footsteps on the linoleum floor rose above the low din of the station. I shifted my gaze to the computer screen in front of me, trying to get a read on the reflection. Man or woman? Size? Shape?
It didn’t really matter who it was, just as long as it wasn’t Holt’s broad-shouldered form. His words echoed in my head. “Just because I left doesn’t mean I stopped caring.”
That phantom rasp in my mind had anger pooling deep. He wanted to come back? Fine. He wanted to start showing his face around town? I could deal. But he did not get to tell me he cared.
People who cared didn’t vanish the moment you were well enough to leave rehab and go home. I’d replayed those months between the shooting and Holt bolting over and over in my head. Looking back on it, I could see that something had shifted in him. But at the time, I’d been in too much mental and emotional pain to see it.
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.”
“Good thing HR is Anderson, and he’s already drowning in his police work.”
I snickered. “Guess you’re safe.”
Lawson leaned back, his chair squeaking. “You okay?”
I rolled my lips over my teeth as if that would keep me from giving him the truth. “You asking as my boss or as my friend?”
“I’m asking as your surrogate big brother.”
In so many ways, that married the two. Lawson had a calm steadiness about him that made people want to leave their burdens at his feet. He had that quality that I missed in Holt so damn much—that silent assurance that nothing I told him would ever freak him out.
He didn’t see me the same way Holt had. Holt knew what I was thinking or how I was feeling before I could even find the words. But there was comfort in knowing that I could still keep the worst of my torture to myself around Lawson.
“The call rattled me. It isn’t the first one that has, and it won’t be the last. I can handle it.”
Lawson nodded. “I know you can, but you’re also allowed to take care of yourself when you get rattled. If you need to take the rest of the day, do it.”
I shook my head. “That would just make things worse. I took a walk around the block. Cleared my head. I’m good.”
“All right. How’s everything else?”
I arched a brow. “Are you digging, Chief Hartley?”
He had the decency to look a little sheepish. “I’ve been known to, time and again.” The hint of humor slipped from his face. “He’s a mess, Wren.”
My fingers curved around the arms of the chair, but I didn’t say a word.
Lawson let his statement hang heavy in the air for a moment. “I know he hurt you, but he was a kid, too. What happened to him, finding you like he did…it can twist a person up.”
“So it’s my fault he bailed?”
“Of course, not. I’m just saying there are as many sides to a story as those who’ve lived it.”
My back teeth ground together. The fact that Lawson made a perfectly reasonable point just stoked my mad. But I breathed through it. “I get it. He was struggling. You think I don’t hate that? But I can’t just forget that he left me when I needed him the most. That what we had wasn’t enough for him to fight through whatever bullshit was swirling in his head.”
I met Lawson’s gaze dead-on. “He broke me, Law. Worse than that bullet. Worse than the agony of waking up after open-heart surgery. Worse than the torture of months of rehab. I can’t just magically forget that happened.”
I stared down at my phone, my gaze tracking over the text again and again.
Grae: My best friend isn’t a weak-a biznatch.
I couldn’t help the flutter of my lips. Grae had always had a foul mouth. Probably because she had four older brothers. But when Lawson’s first son was born, she’d done her best to clean up her act. The results were these ridiculous non-cussing curse words.
And she’d been using them to taunt me all afternoon. To bait me into coming tonight.
I tossed my phone into the cupholder and stared up at the house. I knew every nook and cranny of it like the back of my hand. How many times had I wished I could live here growing up? Too many to count.
And then there were the times when I’d picture it—building a house on the land that would be close enough that Kerry and Nathan would be in their grandbabies’ lives every single day. Those invisible claws dug deep, and I shoved the memories down.
I was good at that. Shoving away things that I didn’t want to look at. I was a master at it, really. But I could never burn the memories out altogether.
And we had half a lifetime of them. Grae and I had been in the same playgroup as infants. And Kerry often told this story of two-year-old Holt toddling over, transfixed by the baby with the hazel eyes. She said he used to stand guard over me, not letting anyone close until they proved their good intentions.
That had never changed over the years. Always my protector. The one who picked me up when I took a tumble off my bike and tended to my skinned knees. The one who insisted his brothers let Grae and me play whatever they were doing. The one who decked a jerk in the third grade for making a habit of taunting me, thus getting suspended for a whole week.
I’d been half in love with Holt Hartley since I could walk. But it took some time for him to come around to the idea. He’d said that he’d always loved me but that the love just looked different at each point in our lives. I’d thought that would continue forever, never realizing he could simply walk away.
I tugged the keys out of my ignition and wrapped my fingers around them, the metal teeth biting into my flesh. I wished the flash of pain were stronger. I needed so much worse if I were going to make it through the next few hours.
Climbing the steps to the front door, I took one last lungful of mountain air. My steps paused, and I almost lifted my hand to knock as if Holt’s presence had turned this place into a stranger’s home. I shoved the impulse down and opened the door.
The sounds of muted chaos came from the living area. I followed its strains. Grae leapt from the couch the moment she saw me. “Wren!” She engulfed me in a hug. “I was worried you were going to bail,” she whispered.
“Your thirty-two texts might have given me a clue to that.”
She sent me a sheepish smile. “Was weak-a biznatch too much?”
I grinned. “That was my favorite one.”
“Come on. Let’s get a drink.”
She ushered me to the kitchen, and I was proud that my steps only faltered slightly as my eyes locked with deep blue ones. Holt’s stare was like a force field I had to fight against to make any forward progress.
“Hey, Cricket.”
A flash of agony ripped through me, but I simply nodded. “Holt.”
“My girl’s here,” Kerry crooned, pulling me into a hug. “Now all is right with the world.”
“I didn’t bring anything, but I’ve got two hands that can help.”
“All I need is you in this space, and I’m happy as can be.”
Warmth filtered through me, easing the worst of the pain of hearing my nickname on Holt’s lips.
“What’s up, Little Williams?” Nash asked, popping a cherry tomato into his mouth.
Kerry smacked his hand with a towel. “Wren, you can help me by guarding the food from these two heathens.”
Holt’s lips twitched into that devilish smile I’d always loved as he snagged a roll off the cooling rack. “It’s a compliment, Mom.” He popped a bite into his mouth. “I never eat as well as I do here.”
Nathan shifted in his seat. “If that’s the case, you’d think you would’ve made it home for more than twenty-four hours once a year.”
Pain lashed Holt’s face. It was there one second and gone the next. But the depth of it was so intense, I’d never forget the image.
“Nathan…” Kerry said in a low voice.
“Not holding my tongue in my own house,” he grumbled.
I sent Grae a sidelong look, and she gave a small shake of her head. My gaze shifted back to Nathan, the man who had been nothing but an overgrown teddy bear to me. He’d occasionally been hard on his kids, but it was always when they’d done something boneheaded. And he always ended every lecture or punishment by telling them how loved they were.
Sure, Nathan had gotten more cantankerous as his recovery dragged on, but this was harsh—even to my ears.
Holt shifted on the stool at the counter. “You can say whatever you need to, Dad.”
Nathan snapped his mouth closed and turned back to the TV.
Roan stared at his father. His eyes darkened as he took the man in, but he didn’t say a word either.
Lawson’s jaw worked back and forth as he stared at his boots.
What had happened to this family I loved so much? Had I been oblivious to them falling apart right under my nose? I knew that I wouldn’t let any of them talk to me about Holt, but they told me about their holidays, ones I knew Holt was present for, and I’d heard nothing but happiness and hilarious stories afterward. This tension had to be new.
Kerry threaded the towel through her fingers, casting a worried look in her husband’s direction. I gave her arm a quick squeeze and started for the couch. Looking down at Nathan, I inclined my head toward the hall. “Take a spin with me.”
“Haven’t you heard? I broke my leg.”
“Please,” I huffed. “That was months ago. And I know for a fact that your physical therapist wants you taking loops on solid ground several times a day. You going soft on me?”
Nash covered his laugh with a cough.
Nathan arched a brow. “You checkin’ up on me?”
“You’re more of a father than I’ve ever had. So sue me if I’d like to keep you around a little longer and stop you from biting everyone’s head off. It’s gonna be real cramped quarters if Kerry kicks your butt out, and you have to come stay with me.”
He tried to glare but it was no use, his lips twitched. It was so similar to how Holt’s fluttered it made my chest ache.
Nathan reached out a hand. “Help an old man up.”
I wrapped my fingers around his, but he really didn’t need my help.
“Seriously, Dad?” Nash gaped. “I’ve only asked you three times to walk with me since I got here.”
Nathan shrugged. “She’s better company than you.”
Grae chuckled. “I could’ve told you that.”
“Come on,” I urged.
Nathan and I moved down the hall, away from the soft sounds of some sports game on the television and the muted conversation. It would take us all the way to the opposite side of the house.
“They’re all talking behind my back now,” Nathan grumbled.
“Only because you gave them a reason.”
His jaw tightened.
“What gives? I’d think you’d be happy to have Holt back.”
“I am.”
His voice was gruff like he’d been a smoker in another life.
“You weren’t acting like a man thrilled to see his son.”
Nathan was quiet for a moment as we walked, his gait labored but better than the last time I’d been here. “He won’t stay.”
“So what?”
His head jerked up. “I want time with my son. I put up with him chasing every life-threatening situation he could find all over the globe, but I’m done with it. I don’t know how much time I’ve got left on this Earth, and I’d like to actually get to know my boy before I’m gone.”
My steps faltered, and I gaped at Nathan. “So, you’re…what? Trying to heckle him into staying?”
Nathan flushed. “Hey, it’s worked so far. He’s made it to the seventy-two-hour mark. That’s the longest he’s been home in a decade.”
My chest ached as I turned to Nathan, my hands reaching up to his shoulders. “What you two have is precious. Just because it’s rusty doesn’t mean the root of it isn’t still there. If you want to find your footing again, be honest. Tell him you want him to stay. That you want a chance to know the man he’s grown into.”
It was a measure of how much I loved this family that I encouraged the very thing that would cut me open and pour acid into the wound. But I knew what it was like to live with pain. Over time, I could deal with this, too. The pain would become normal, and I could take it if it meant the Hartleys finding their peace.
Nathan pressed his lips together. “I’ll think about it.”
I looped my arm through his and guided us back toward the living area. “That’s all I can ask for.”
What sounded like a herd of elephants erupted from the basement, followed by shouts of glee and maybe some video game trash talk.
“We’d better get back there,” Nathan said as he picked up his pace, looking way spryer than before. “Those grandsons of mine could eat us out of house and home.”
“Like father like sons when it comes to food motivation.”
Nathan snorted. “I didn’t raise no fools.”
A grin pulled at my lips as we stepped back into the living area. But that curve of my mouth slipped away as I took in the sight in front of me.
“Put me down, Uncle Holt,” Charlie giggled.
Holt tickled the little boy’s side and held him upside down by one ankle. “What’ll you promise me?”
“You get the first slice of pie! I promise!”
Holt lifted him higher, tickling his other side. “I don’t know if I believe you…”
Charlie shrieked and laughed, making a grab for the pie sitting on the counter.
Holt swung him into the air and then caught him in his arms as Charlie begged for him to do it again.
Our gazes locked. An entire lifetime passed in a matter of heartbeats—years full of how Holt would’ve teased our babies, tossing them high and letting the giggles rain down around us. Years full of watching them grow and making that football team of a family we’d always wanted.
I’d been wrong earlier. I’d never learn to live with pain like this. It would swallow me whole first.
