Chapter 27 Roan
ROAN
I drummed my fingers against the steering wheel as I sat parked just out of view at the trailhead. We were all spending time at various spots we thought might be likely stomping grounds for the unsub. But my thoughts were a million miles away.
I glanced at my phone for the millionth time. Still nothing from Aspen. It wasn’t like her to say she’d do something and not follow through. She’d had plenty of time to drop Cady off and get to work by now.
Worry gnawed at my gut. I reached for my phone to call her, but the device rang before I could even unlock it. Lawson’s name flashed across the screen, and I hit accept.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“We’ve got a problem.”
That worry in my gut turned to panic. “What?” I growled.
“Those assholes released the podcast. Aspen got to work, and a dozen reporters were waiting for her. Apparently, they sent it to the press yesterday afternoon, hoping to get more coverage.”
I spat out a stream of curses as I started my truck. “Where is she?”
“In my office. She’s okay but shaken up. I sent Grae to get Cady, just in case. She’s going to give her and Charlie a fun skipping school day.”
That grinding sensation was back along my sternum. Grae would take care of Cady, I knew it, but God, I wanted to string those podcasters up by their entrails. “I’m on my way.”
I hung up without another word, needing to focus on the road. On getting to Aspen.
Gravel spit as I took a tight turn and pressed the accelerator. I made the ten-minute drive in five, tires squealing as I pulled into a parking spot in front of the station.
I yanked my keys out of the ignition and charged toward the front door. It slammed against the wall, and the officer behind the desk jumped.
“M-Mr. Hartley.”
I didn’t even glance his way, just strode toward the bullpen. Cops read my murderous expression and moved out of my path as I stormed toward Lawson’s office.
My brother’s door was closed, but I didn’t bother knocking. I swung it open to find Aspen on Lawson’s couch, her arms wrapped around herself, staring at her lap. She looked so damned small. Vulnerable.
Law moved to my side. “Take a breath. You don’t want to freak her out any more than she already is.”
I struggled to keep my breathing under control as I crossed the small room. Aspen didn’t look up when I approached or when I took a seat next to her.
“Tender Heart,” I whispered, slipping a hand under her red hair.
At the touch, she twisted, sliding onto my lap and burying her face in my neck.
I froze. Didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.
Then my arms closed around her, and I held on tightly. As if my arms could protect her from the nightmare waiting outside these walls.
Aspen didn’t cry, didn’t speak, she didn’t make a damned sound. She just held on.
Lawson studied us with curiosity.
“How bad?” I asked.
He winced, and I had my answer. “Story’s been picked up by national news outlets.”
“My face will be everywhere,” Aspen whispered. “We’ll never be safe.”
My arms tightened around her. “You’re safe. We’re gonna keep you that way.”
“You can’t. You never know who’ll turn against you.”
Everything in me churned and twisted. I knew what that felt like. Too much. Looking over your shoulder, not trusting anyone.
I stroked a hand down her back. “The attention will fade. Media will move on.”
“They never move on,” Aspen mumbled.
Her speech was slightly slurred, and I knew the adrenaline crash was kicking in. I glanced at Lawson. “I need to get her home.”
He jerked his head in a nod. “You parked out front?”
“Yeah.”
“Give me your keys. I’ll move your truck around back. Fewer eyes.”
My teeth ground together, but I handed my key ring to my brother.
He was gone in a flash, leaving me alone with Aspen. I breathed in her smoky cinnamon scent. I let it calm the most feral parts of me. And then I stood, keeping her cradled in my arms.
“I can walk,” Aspen said sleepily.
I pressed a kiss to her temple. “Just let me take care of you. I need it.”
“Okay.” She turned her face into my neck, squeezing her eyes closed.
The moment I emerged from Lawson’s office, Nash was at my side, a worried look on his face. “What do you need?”
“Can you get the back door?”
“Sure.” He strode toward it. “Mads is freaking out.”
I bet everyone in town was losing their minds.
“Just tell her to give Aspen some time.”
Nash nodded as he opened the door. “Call or text if you need anything at all. We can bring food. Whatever.”
“Thanks, man.”
Nash met my eyes. “We’ve got your back. Both of you.”
That burn had returned. The one that reminded me just how much my family cared and how much I’d hidden from them.
I forced myself to ignore the regret coursing through me and strode toward my truck. Lawson opened the passenger door, and I lowered Aspen to the seat. She blinked up at me, almost as if she were drugged. I pulled the seat belt across her body, a hint of cinnamon tickling my nose.
Straightening, I carefully shut the door and turned to Lawson and Nash. “Text me updates?”
“Of course,” Lawson agreed.
I headed for the driver’s side of the vehicle and slid in. Aspen barely reacted. A muscle in my cheek ticked. I wanted to end every asshole who’d put her through this torture. Every person who had thrown her most painful moments in her face.
Starting the engine, I backed out of the parking spot and pulled out of the lot. It was then that I saw the reporters milling about at the end of the block. Lawson must’ve forbidden them from coming on department property, but they were still waiting for their pound of flesh.
Thankfully, they didn’t notice Aspen in my passenger seat as we drove by. The trip to her house didn’t take long, but I tensed as we climbed Huckleberry Lane. Vehicles lined the road—average cars and news vans alike.
A few choice curses slipped free, and I wished my windows were tinted. “Duck down,” I said, reaching behind Aspen’s shoulders.
“Huh?” she mumbled.
“Reporters. Duck.”
She paled, letting me guide her so she was folded over at the waist.
Thankfully, Lawson had thought ahead, and a squad car was already parked at the mouth of Aspen’s drive. Clint, one of the department’s long-standing officers, leaned against the hood. He lifted his chin, motioning me by as reporters swarmed.
Even through the windows, I heard their invasive questions, and Clint yelling at them to step back or he’d start putting people in zip ties.
I pressed the accelerator, flying down the drive. At least Aspen’s farmhouse blocked us from the road a bit. I pulled to a stop and turned off the engine. “You can sit up,” I said softly.
She glanced up at me and then slowly straightened. There was so much sorrow in those beautiful green eyes. “This is never going to end.”
I slipped my hand under her hair, squeezing the back of her neck. “It will. It might take some time, but it’ll fade.” I’d make sure it did. “Let’s get you inside.”
Aspen nodded slowly, unfastening her seat belt.
I slid out of the truck, rounding the vehicle to help her. She moved a bit jerkily as she climbed the steps, and my worry for her intensified. I slipped the key she’d given me into the top deadbolt, unlocking it and the two other locks. I held the door open as she went inside.
Chauncey was on his feet in a flash, ambling over to us.
“I’m going to let him out real quick,” I said.
Aspen nodded. “I’m going to go lie down. I don’t feel great.”
No one would after an adrenaline crash like that. “Okay. I’ll come check on you in a minute.”
She didn’t even acknowledge my words, just stumbled toward the bedroom.
I clenched and flexed my fingers, trying to find an outlet for my anger that wasn’t me putting a hole through a wall.
I grabbed a leash from the hooks by the door and whistled for Chauncey.
“Can’t risk you running off after one of those reporters.
Though I wouldn’t mind if you took a bite out of them. ”
Opening the door, I took the dog to a bit of grass for him to do his business and then guided him back into the house. As I unhooked his leash, I listened. I didn’t hear anything, so I headed for the back hallway.
I hovered outside the door I knew was Aspen’s. Even with all the nights I’d spent in this house, I hadn’t ventured inside her bedroom. It was a no-go zone in my mind.
Swallowing, I knocked lightly. There was no answer.
I turned the knob and eased the door open a fraction. The space wasn’t at all what I expected. Instead of bright colors and loud prints, it was muted pinks and grays with a hint of gold here and there.
Stepping inside, I took Aspen in. She was already burrowed under the covers, but she wasn’t asleep. She just stared up at the ceiling.
I crossed the distance between us and lowered myself to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head.
I bit the inside of my cheek, searching for something to say. I wasn’t good with words. Always said the wrong thing. But I couldn’t leave Aspen alone in her head either.
“There’s no glitter.”
Aspen’s gaze shifted to find me. “Huh?”
“Your bedroom. There’s no glitter. You usually have it somewhere. A hair tie or headband. The stars on your coat. Shimmer in a sweater.”
Her lips curved. “Cady hasn’t infiltrated my décor in here.”
“You’re an amazing mom.”
Aspen swallowed hard. “I didn’t protect her from this.”
I took her hand, squeezing. “That’s not on you. It’s on those bloodsucking vultures.”
“I’m scared she’ll somehow hear that it was her dad who hurt her mom.”
“We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ll have Law call the school and talk to the principal.”
Aspen nodded, her eyes drooping. “Thank you.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll get you something to eat when you wake up.”
“Okay…” But she was already dropping off before she could finish her sentence.
I didn’t move right away. Couldn’t. I just watched Aspen breathe. Let a little of the feral energy coursing through me ease with the even inhales and exhales.