You Found Me in the Dark (Sawyers Cove #1)
Chapter 1 - Wren
WREN
The baseball field always looked better in the dark. The bleachers were just a set of aluminum rows behind Pine Harbor High. They sat beneath a washed-out night sky and two old field lights that barely did their job. They weren’t bright, not really, but they were enough to make me feel safe.
It was just past ten. The sky was a clear, dark blue, and the air was cold enough to see your breath, but still warm enough that bundling up wasn’t necessary. This is what made a northern Michigan spring night perfect.
I only came out here when things got bad in my head.
When the walls at home felt like they were pressing in, or my thoughts started piling up faster than I could outrun them.
The field was only two blocks from the house, tucked behind my old high school.
I used to come here occasionally after everything happened, and tonight I just needed somewhere quiet.
I climbed up to the second row and settled onto the cold bleacher.
Putting my headphones in and pulling my hood up, I began to relax.
My arms folded across my chest while my legs rested on the bleacher below me, crossed at the ankle.
The music in my ears was sad but calming.
I shut my eyes and just listened. Mostly, the songs were about loving someone who never actually saw who you were, or they were classic break-up songs.
They made me feel like I wasn’t the only person quietly breaking apart.
The song playing through my headphones always broke me.
The tears came—just a few, like a cracked dam behind tired eyes. I never cried in front of people. I never had the energy for that kind of pity, that’s why I came here.
I didn’t even hear him at first. I was too wrapped up in the past to acknowledge the present. I only noticed when the bleachers creaked, one loud groan of metal shifting under weight. My heart jumped. I ripped one earbud out, my head snapping toward the sound.
“Wren?” he said, his voice low. I squinted, not trusting what I saw.
It was him. Of course, it was him.
Reed Whitmore, my older brother’s best friend. He was an asshole. Too blunt, too cold, too distant. What the hell was he doing here?
He didn’t sit close, just a few feet away in the same row.
He wore a dark T-shirt and windbreaker with sweatpants, the kind of effortless, thrown-together look that somehow still made him look annoyingly good.
The collar of his windbreaker was low enough to reveal the black lines of ink that stretched up his neck and fell right below his jaw.
His tattooed hands were folded between his legs, with his forearms resting on his knees.
His hair was longer on top than on the sides.
It looked like he had been running his hands through it all night.
He was thirty-one but could easily pass for twenty-five.
Reed’s eyes were fixed on the empty field like he had come here for his own reasons.
He didn’t say anything else. Just sat there, quiet. Watching the field like it had all the answers he needed. Like, him showing up hadn’t just tilted my whole world sideways.
“You always cry alone in baseball stands, or is this a one-time thing?” he asked, his voice quiet and teasing, still not looking at me.
I let out a soft laugh, but it sounded more like a scoff. I sniffed, wiping under my eyes quickly, cursing the way my voice trembled when I spoke. “Didn’t know this spot was so popular this late at night.”
“It normally isn’t. That’s why I come here,” he said, just under his breath.
We sat in silence after that. Not awkward. Not exactly comfortable, either.
I glanced his way. “You’re not gonna ask me what’s wrong or why I’m here?”
“Nope.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t think you are ready to tell me. If you were, you would’ve already started talking.”
I stared at him.
God, he saw right through me. Was I really that transparent?
“Do you always show up at places like some emotionally stunted Batman?” I asked, masking my sadness with sarcasm.
He smirked, a soft thing that didn’t quite reach his eyes. We sat for a while longer, not saying anything. The sky darkened, stars poking through like it was daring me to look up.
Just as I started to get lost in my thoughts again, Reed mumbled, “C’mon.”
I blinked. “What?”
He stood and wiped his hands on his sweatpants. “You look like you don’t wanna go home yet. So, fuck it. Don’t.”
I hesitated. “Where would we even go?”
He shrugged. “Don’t care. We could drive around town if you want.”
I stood up and followed him. I had never noticed how tall he was before now. He was six feet three, standing a whole foot taller than me.
I stared at him, heartbeat loud in my throat. I could say no. I could’ve told him I was fine where I was. But I wasn’t, and I think he knew.
I didn’t want to sit in that quiet space where I could hear all the noise in my head, feel every emotion crashing into me all at once.
I glanced at him as we both settled into the truck.
I always loved this truck. It was an old 1972 Chevy K10.
I remember how much work he and Cam put into restoring it.
It was black with a few spots of rust around the wheel well.
The Chevy symbol on the front was bright blue, and the windows still had to be cranked open.
I should know more about cars since my brother is a mechanic, but besides the way it looked, I had no other reason to love it as much as I did.
Reed didn’t say much, which was fine. I wasn’t sure I could handle small talk right now anyway.
The silence between us wasn’t uncomfortable, though.
If anything, it was comforting that he wasn’t pushing me or asking me to explain myself.
He just let the quiet settle there, like he understood that sometimes words weren’t necessary.
The engine rumbled to life as Reed pulled out of the parking lot, the soft glow of the baseball field fading in the rearview mirror until it was nothing more than a smudge of light in the dark. Sawyers Cove stretched out in front of us, quiet and still.
The road curved gently past the edge of the marina, where sailboats rocked in the water like they were asleep.
Further up, the bay itself shimmered under the moonlight, calm and silver, a mirror to the sky above.
The familiar row of little shops on Main Street came into view.
There were brightly painted storefronts with flower boxes under the windows, and soft patio lights still glowing even though everything was closed for the night.
The bakery’s blue awning fluttered in the breeze, and the wooden benches outside the ice cream parlor sat empty.
It should’ve felt like home. It used to. But tonight, everything felt different. Like I was outside my life, watching it through a glass. I saw it all from the streets I knew to the places I’d grown up, but I didn’t feel rooted. At least not the way I used to. Something felt different.
“Sorry,” I muttered after a moment. “I didn’t mean to…” I trailed off, not sure what I was apologizing for.
“Don’t apologize,” Reed spoke, his voice calm but firm. “You don’t have to explain anything.”
I wanted to let go of the tight knot in my chest and just be okay. But I wasn’t ready to talk about it, not yet, at least. The tears that I thought I had under control came back, making my headache return as I fought to keep them in check.
I wiped my face with my hoodie sleeve, trying to hide the way my emotions were spilling over, but I knew he could see.
“You don’t have to be here for me, Reed,” I said quietly, feeling a bit frustrated and embarrassed. “You’re not responsible for me.”
I wasn’t sure why I said that. Maybe it was because I hated the idea of someone feeling obligated to be around me, especially when I was like this. I wasn’t used to feeling so weak, so exposed. I especially did not want him treating me like a kid, or the way my overprotective brother treats me.
Reed didn’t answer right away, and for a moment I thought he might ignore me. But then he spoke, his voice steady.
“I’m not going anywhere, Wren. You don’t have to explain anything to me. I just… I don’t know. I happened to be there, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. So I didn’t say anything at all. Instead, I just nodded, leaning my head against the cool window, letting the silence between us feel like a strange kind of comfort.