Chapter 3 #2
They didn’t see how amazing their daughter was. Didn’t see that she had an empathy which meant she saw things the rest of the world missed. Had a kindness that meant she welcomed everyone into her circle. And a loyalty that meant she’d always have your back.
I wrapped an arm around Wren’s shoulders, pulling her into my side. She felt right there. As if it was where she always belonged.
Wren burrowed her face in my chest. “I don’t want to care. It’s not like this is the first time. But I keep thinking that if I’m good enough, get my grades higher, join more clubs—something—that I’ll be worthy of their love.”
My hand cupped her cheek, lifting her face so I could stare into her eyes. My thumb swiped at the fresh tears that had started to spill. “You’re worthy, Cricket. Beyond worthy.”
Those hazel eyes sparked as Wren’s breath hitched.
“You’re the most amazing, kind, beautiful person I’ve ever known. If they can’t see that, then it’s their loss.”
Her gaze dropped to my mouth as if she were memorizing the words that fell from it.
Some invisible force pulled me in, closer than I’d ever dared. I stopped just shy of those bee-stung lips. But Wren closed the distance and made that final leap.
When she made contact, the flavor of her mint lip balm bursting on my tongue, I knew I’d never be the same.
My fingers closed around my keys, squeezing tightly as I ripped myself out of the memory. I didn’t need thoughts of those eyes dancing in my head or her taste on my tongue. They already haunted my nightmares. I didn’t need them taunting my days, too.
Beeping the locks, I climbed behind the wheel and continued out of town. The tightness in my chest eased a little. I wasn’t as much at risk now. A chance run-in was far less likely.
I knew from my check-ins that she lived in a small cabin on the opposite side of town.
It was remote. No roommate. No live-in boyfriend, as far as I could tell.
I hated the idea of her being out there.
Cut off. And given how cell service worked here, I doubted she had any out there.
I just prayed to God she had a landline.
My SUV hugged the curves of the mountain road, taking me higher.
My dad had bought the property just out of college when the land was cheap.
Then built a small cabin for Mom and him to live in.
It still stood on the same land today, but when he’d started his outdoor gear company, and it had taken off, he’d built something bigger—something they could grow into—and they’d needed the space with five kids.
I turned off the main road onto a private drive marked only by a small street sign. My gut tightened as my SUV climbed and slowed in front of a gate. It fit with the property, made of rustic wood with Hartley burned into a crossbeam.
When I rolled down my window, my finger paused for the briefest moment before pressing the intercom.
My mom’s voice came across the line a second later, and the gate was already opening. “Holt, get up here! Didn’t you have the code?”
I didn’t because I’d never driven in before. When I came for Thanksgiving or Christmas, I took a chopper from Portland and landed on the helipad my dad had installed for emergencies—and those visits had been few and far between. “I guess not.”
“It’s ten twenty-four. Now you have it whenever you want to stop by.”
I groaned. “Mom. You can’t use your anniversary as a password.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s one of the first guesses someone would make.”
“You can give me your lecture once you get up here. I need to pull the chicken out of the oven.”
My throat tightened. How many times had I forced that meal down when all it did was make me want to choke? But I couldn’t bring myself to tell my mother that my favorite meal had been ruined. I could still smell the scent of chicken cooking as I searched the house, trying to find Wren.
I needed a session with a heavy bag, stat. Or, even better, a round with Gomez, the best mixed martial artist on our team. I needed someone to beat the hell out of me so the pain I felt wasn’t this.
Instead, I moved my foot from the brake to the accelerator and started for home.
The paved drive wove between the tall pines, and I knew it must have cost a fortune when my dad had the asphalt laid.
But when the snow came, it was a million times easier to plow when you weren’t fighting against gravel.
The trees thinned as I climbed, and the house came into view—a mountain lodge with a blend of glass and stone and wood, though the glass dominated. It was almost as if you could see through the whole house.
Dad had always said that he wanted to feel like he was living in the wild. That there was nothing between him and nature. Dark wood beams framed the glass in a way that made the structure feel like it was part of the forest. And the stone tied it to the ground beneath.
The home spread across the mountainside, an enclosed walkway joining the two halves. My mom had always called the farther part the kids’ side when we were growing up. We could run wild in an epic game of hide-and-seek, and she got her peace when she needed it.
The memories that battled for supremacy now were good ones: laughter and teasing, epic pranks and water gun fights, pizza feasts and monster movie marathons. But they left a trail of guilt in their wake—one that burned as it dug in deep.
I pulled my car to a stop in the circular driveway behind four other vehicles. I realized that I wasn’t sure which belonged to whom. The Fish and Wildlife logo on the side of a white SUV told me that it was Roan’s, but other than that, I had no clue.
Shutting off the engine, I climbed out and headed for the house. The front door opened, and I caught a blaze of movement. A second later, a petite body hit me with a force that was shocking for her size.
“You’re here!”
I grinned as I lifted Grae into the air. “Missed you, too, G. How are you feeling?”
She growled in my ear, ignoring the question but hugging me tighter. “I still can’t believe it. Have you decided how long you’re staying? Are you sure you want to be shacked up at the B&B? I bet Mom and Dad would let you stay in the cabin—”
“Let the man breathe,” Lawson said with a chuckle.
I set Grae down and moved to my eldest brother, pulling him in for a hard hug. “Damn good to see you, Law.”
He thumped me on the back. “Wasn’t sure your ugly mug was really gonna make it.”
His words stung, but it wasn’t anything I didn’t deserve. Lawson merely meant it as a gentle jibe. He didn’t know how deep the sentiment cut.
“Fam bam back together again,” Nash called, throwing himself around us and pulling Grae into the huddle.
She hit my back with an oomph. “Nash…”
Roan approached our group as Nash reached out for him. “Don’t even think about it.”
Nash gave an exaggerated pout. “Come on, grumpy cat.”
Roan scowled, keeping his distance.
Nash sighed. “Fine, ruin the family reunion.”
Roan lifted his chin in my direction. “Hey.”
That was him. No welcoming me back because he knew how hard it was for me to be here. More than once, I’d wondered why he hadn’t taken off, too. The night of the shooting had scarred him, as well—in some ways worse than the rest of us. Maybe he’d stayed to prove people wrong.
“Good to see you.”
Roan simply grunted. “Mom said dinner’s ready.” With that, he turned and headed back toward the house.
“As you can see, not a lot has changed,” Grae mumbled.
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if Wren had changed. Did her laugh still have that husky edge? Did her nose crinkle when she smiled? I shoved that down and started for the front door. “Sometimes, things staying the same is a good thing.”
“Dad!” Drew called from the steps. “Luke’s hogging the Xbox.”
Lawson sighed. “I can tell you what has changed. Full-fledged teen angst.” He lifted his gaze to his middle son. “Not for long. Dinner’s ready. Say hello to your uncle so he doesn’t think I raised a bunch of heathens.”
Drew gave me a lopsided grin. “Hey, Uncle Holt. It’s sick you’re back.”
I glanced down at Grae. “Sick?”
Nash clapped me on the shoulder. “It means cool. You need to brush up on your lingo.”
A small boy dodged around Drew and rushed toward me. “Uncle Holt.”
I caught him on the fly, lifting him into the air. “Hey, Charlie. How’d you grow so much since I saw you last?”
Guilt dug in deeper. It had only been a few months, but Charlie and Drew seemed like they were each a head taller.
He grinned down at me, showing a gap where two front teeth should’ve been. “’Cause you’re never freaking here.”
Lawson groaned. “You know your grandma doesn’t like you saying freaking.”
“It’s not even a swear,” Drew muttered.
“Maybe not, but this is her house, so we play by her rules. Right?”
“We play by her rules because she makes cookies,” Charlie chimed in.
“Smart man,” I whispered, setting him down in the entryway.
“Luke,” Lawson called.
“What?” a voice snapped back—one deeper than I remembered.
Lawson pinched the bridge of his nose. “God save me from teenagers.”
“I’m not a teenager,” Charlie said helpfully.
“And I thank my lucky stars for that every single day.”
Drew rolled his eyes. “We’re not that bad.”
Lawson lifted his brows. “Paintballing the side of the house? Luke taking my car for a joyride when he doesn’t have a license? The yelling at decibels not fit for human ears?”
Drew gave his dad a sheepish smile. “We’re keeping you young.”
“You’re giving me gray hair.”
There was humor in Lawson’s voice, but there was also bone-deep fatigue. I had no idea how he kept up with it all, but maybe I could help lessen his load while I was here.
“Luke, get your butt out here. It’s time for dinner,” Lawson called.
There was nothing for a good minute, and then a teen I barely recognized emerged from the basement. Luke was only fifteen, but he looked older. His dark hair curled around his ears, and he had a scowl on his face that resembled Roan more than it did Lawson.
“Hey, Luke.”
He lifted his chin in my direction. “Hey.” Then, just as quickly, he dismissed me as he started toward the open-concept kitchen and living space.
Lawson’s mouth pressed into a hard line. “Sure you don’t want to stay with us? You could get the cold shoulder twenty-four-seven. It’s a dream.”
I chuckled. “I think there was a season we were all pretty surly with Mom and Dad. I’d say that’s normal.”
He grimaced. “I’m being punished for my misspent youth.”
Nash leaned in to whisper in Lawson’s ear. “But it was worth it.”
Lawson shook his head as we all started for the kitchen. “You haven’t gotten your payback yet. Just wait until you’re raising a handful of hell-raisers just like you.”
Nash’s head jerked. “Bite your tongue. I’m not going down that road anytime soon.”
Grae grinned. “I can’t wait until someone takes you down.”
“Me? Never. I’m way too practical.”
It wasn’t that. It was that Nash had only ever cared for one girl. And when he screwed that all to hell, he’d built and kept those walls sky-high.
“Holt!” Mom hurried from the kitchen and pulled me into a hug. “I’m so glad you’re home.”
“Thanks for making dinner.”
“Your favorite.”
I tried to hide my wince with another fake smile. “Thanks, Mom.”
She released me, and I started toward my dad, who sat on the couch, his leg propped up on an oversized ottoman. It was out of the cast, but he was clearly still nursing it. “Hey, Dad. How are you feeling?”
His lips pursed, the lines on his face deepening. “You didn’t have to come check on me. I told you I was fine.”
My brows rose. Ornery was right.
“Thought it was time I came for a visit that lasted longer than a few days.”
Dad’s eyes narrowed on me. “Why? That sure as hell never mattered to you before.”
My mom gasped. “Nathan.”
I held up a hand. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” Grae said, glaring at our father.
“She’s right,” Nash chimed in. “Not cool, old man.”
Dad swung his leg off the ottoman and stood, limping toward the dining table. “I’m just speaking the truth. I’m not going to run around preparing some feast for the prodigal son when I know he’ll probably take off tomorrow.”
Grae squeezed my arm. “He doesn’t mean it. He’s hurting and throwing himself a pity party.”
“He does mean it,” I said quietly. I just didn’t know how I’d let things get this bad.