Chapter Nine
It was their house.
Winnie’s entire body refused to obey her brain’s commands as she took in two stories of perfectly maintained white brick.
The front door—painted black to stand out against the facade—had been lined with clear glass and promised warmth from the low lighting coming from inside.
A picture-perfect window, complete with a wood planter box centered beneath, was off to one side.
The medium-size trees standing sentinel on both sides of the door drew visitors’ attention to three small steps at the base of the storybook-style home.
Small, paned windows and pointed rooflines with white gutters matching the brick added to the fairy tale, and she couldn’t seem to help but take that step forward onto the paved path leading to the front door.
It was perfect. It always had been.
Ever since that day she’d hidden behind one of those very trees lining the right side of the fenced property in a desperate attempt to outrun Darby and Henry and their followers in seventh grade.
From that moment on she’d been in love with it.
In love with the idea that it would someday be theirs.
It’d provided her safety when she’d needed it the most, and Winnie had vowed from that day on she would somehow be able to afford it to keep that feeling for her future family.
She’d only been inside once during an open house.
Nothing but wishful thinking, but she’d fallen in love with it all the same.
She’d spent hours wandering through the layout, fantasizing about her and Adrial moving in, cooking dinners together in the sleek kitchen, lying out on the covered back porch and roasting marshmallows in the in-ground firepit in the backyard.
Later, they would’ve added a pool for the kids and chased jelly-covered faces around the yard trying to get them dry before they bounded through the house smearing water and food everywhere.
At night, after putting the kids down for bed, they’d lie together on the couch reading, or watching whatever new series was trending with the fireplace lit and the lights turned down low.
Maybe they’d christen every surface in the house and try for that third baby.
But none of that had happened.
Her mouth dried as she sucked in a deep breath.
It was never going to be hers, was it? The pool, the fireplace, the quartz countertops and hardwood floors.
The kids and the husband who didn’t feel the need to cheat, lie and manipulate his way through their marriage.
It’d all been right there in front of her one minute.
Within reach. Then, poof. Gone the next.
She tried to breathe through the nausea churning in her stomach, her exhales crystallizing in front of her mouth. “You bought it.”
“It was supposed to be a wedding gift.” Adrial slipped his hands into his jeans pockets, facing off with the house he’d told her over and over would be hers one day.
That he’d do whatever it took to make that dream come true.
Work two jobs, use his trust when his parents passed, even though he’d never wanted to touch that money, eat ramen every night.
Those promises had meant everything. “We’d planned on leaving for our honeymoon straight after the reception, but I was going to surprise you at the rehearsal dinner. ”
Winnie couldn’t look at it anymore. Every fiber of her being felt too hot, too pressurized.
She practically lunged down the sidewalk, trying to put as much distance between her and that house as possible.
Adrial had brought her to his house. His house.
The same house that was always meant to be theirs.
With a wife who wasn’t her. She didn’t register where she was going, but it didn’t matter.
She needed to be anywhere but here, even if it meant running into Darby and Henry a second time.
“Winnie, wait.” His boots thunked against the pavement, and he kept pace easily with those long legs. Strong hands slid between her rib cage and arm, and swung her to face him. Right into his chest. “Just wait.”
“Why would you do that?” She wasn’t going to cry. Not because of him. She’d already wasted months of tears on him. He didn’t deserve any more. Winnie swiped at her face. “Why would you bring me here?”
Exhaustion played across his face, his eyes closing as though he couldn’t summon the energy to keep them open anymore. When he looked at her again, he’d somehow maintained that perfect composure she’d come to expect. “I told you. We needed somewhere private to work—”
“Bull.” She slammed her hand into his sternum. “We could’ve gone anywhere. We could’ve reserved a study room at the library. You brought me here to humiliate me. Just like you humiliated me when you left for that job in Chicago.”
“Winnie, take a breath.” Staring down at her, Adrial skimmed his thumb along her jawline, and every nerve ending she owned lit up at the contact.
Just like they had with that kiss. For a man who wasn’t soft in any sense of the word, he’d always handled her as though she was made of glass. “You’re turning blue.”
The edges of her vision had darkened without her realizing, and it took everything she had to remind herself to breathe.
Seemed her survival instincts had never fully developed growing up.
Every time she got angry, she stopped breathing, which led to more migraines and more anger.
It was a vicious cycle she couldn’t seem to escape from when it came to him, the first time occurring right after her father told her Adrial wasn’t coming to the rehearsal dinner.
Not just the dinner, but that he wasn’t going to marry her.
That he’d left town. She knew better than to let him get this close, but Winnie couldn’t seem to pull away, either. “Why?”
He seemed to understand she wasn’t asking why she should breathe, or why he’d brought her to the one place she’d avoided since coming back into town, as he slid his hand free of her face and elbow. “There were things occurring in the department that could’ve backfired on you if I didn’t leave.”
“So what? You’re saying you left to protect me?” Her shoulders hurt as she tried to remember how to stand naturally. “You could’ve called me. Sent a message. Left a voice mail. You didn’t have to just leave without a word. We could’ve worked it out. We could’ve gone together.”
He was already shaking his head, and the first glimpse of real emotion speared across his face. Regret. “I couldn’t tell you anything. The people involved… They would’ve hurt you if they’d found out you got caught up in it, Red.”
A shiver chased down her spine. She didn’t…
She didn’t know what to say to that. Every cruel thought she’d convinced herself was true—about him getting cold feet or that he’d never been in love with her—raced to the front of her mind.
But they didn’t fit right with this new information.
Thickness gathered on the back of her tongue. “You didn’t want to leave?”
He closed the inches between them, then dragged his hands down her arms, imbuing warmth through her blouse and straight into her skin.
“I would’ve done anything but put you at risk to stay, Red.
Anything. The job in Chicago was supposed to be temporary after I finished collecting evidence on the issue here.
I planned on coming back to Black Hollow, to you, but things didn’t work out the way they were supposed to. ”
No. They hadn’t. He’d stayed in Chicago.
He’d met someone. He’d gotten married and moved on without her while she’d tried to do the same with a man who’d never intended to keep his vows.
Winnie let her gaze drop from his, wandering to the bright white brick of the house set apart from the dense trees surrounding the property of his house.
Her heart jumped at the sight, but part of her recognized it wasn’t just the house that had her insides coiling tighter. It was Adrial. “And now?”
“I’m still trying to protect you.” His thumb rubbed small circles into her left arm, keeping her in the moment and settling her heart rate. He was the only one who’d ever had that effect on her since her mother had passed, and she’d missed it. Missed him. “I need you to believe that.”
She nodded, though she wasn’t exactly sure what she was agreeing to, if she believed him.
If there’d been issues inside BHPD, wouldn’t her dad have told her?
What could he possibly have needed to protect her from?
She wasn’t law enforcement. Or had Adrial been the target, and therefore, the people he cared about had automatically been wrapped up as collateral damage?
Wetting her lips against the cold, she held the file tighter to her chest. She could be patient, but she’d get answers.
One way or another. “I can take care of myself.”
“For once, maybe you shouldn’t have to.” Adrial offered her his hand. A choice, in an entire lifetime of not being able to choose for herself. No one had ever considered how much she needed that control. Except Adrial.
She slid her hand into his, soft skin against his rough calluses that told her he still liked to work with her hands.
The fireplace inside had been woodburning the last time she’d checked, and she could easily picture him spending time on the weekends chopping wood and stacking it against the side of the house for the winter.
But she had to stop doing that. Picturing a life here.
Because it wasn’t hers. Wouldn’t ever be hers.
After leading her up the paved path, Adrial thumbed in the code to the front door, and a dead bolt clicked.
He shoved the door open, dragging her in after him.
Instant heat prickled at her exposed face and neck, and she withdrew her hand from his as she scanned the entryway.
Sand-colored tiles stretched across the foyer, leading to a forest-green paneled mudroom complete with bench to her right.
It was everything she’d remembered and more, aged with perfection and showing signs of life and love.
Pale wood framed a pocket door leading into the living room ahead, with a vase stuffed with fake greenery adding to the minimalistic decor.
Everything in sight was exactly as she would’ve kept it.
Clean and simple and natural. The living room stretched out to her left, and as she crossed into the main space, she couldn’t help but be drawn to the bookcases framing the stone-worked fireplace that served as the focal point of the room.
To the photos and books and knickknacks Adrial hadn’t allowed to seep into his office at Cold Hollow Investigations.
One photo drew her closer, almost buried behind layers of somber faces from Adrial’s childhood.
She couldn’t ever remember a time when his parents smiled or doted on their only son, but she knew Adrial had loved them, and they’d loved him in their own way.
The same way she knew her dad had loved her despite his ability to pretend she didn’t exist.
“That’s Katie.” Adrial dragged the framed photo forward, then tilted the glass to give her a better view of the woman smiling over her shoulder adorned in a lovely, lace wedding veil. He set the photo back on the shelf. “My wife.”
Wife. Not ex-wife. Tension racketed up Winnie’s neck the longer she studied the blonde free of freckles, frizzed hair and a perfect soft smile that promised to love unconditionally.
She understood his mistake. She still caught herself thinking of Dan as her husband, though he hadn’t been long before the divorce had been finalized. “She’s very beautiful.”
“She was.” Adrial’s attention remained on the photo, but the slight glaze to his eyes told her he was somewhere else.
Winnie didn’t understand. “What do you mean?”
“She died.” Adrial locked his gaze on her. “Katie was my very first cold case.”