Page 167 of Craving Consequences

“Gentlemen,” he begins, tipping back the brim of his wide cap with a bent knuckle. “Pardon the intrusion, but I was hoping you could tell me if you’ve heard or seen Bron in the last couple of hours.”

Lachlan and I exchange glances.

It’s Lachlan who answers. “I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon. Why? Has something happened?”

The sheriff hesitates just long enough to make me think —hope — the little fucker is dead, but I don’t think he’d be asking for Bron’s whereabouts if that’s the case.

“Do you got a minute?” he says instead, gesturing with a nod of his chin to the inside of the house.

Lachlan steps back and lets him in. None of us speak a word as we follow my friend down the hall back towards the kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink?” Lachlan asks.

Brewer shakes his head. “Appreciated, but I won’t be long.” He pauses with the island between us, hat in hand. “There’s been an incident. I want to give you a heads up before you hear it from someone else.” Bastard pauses again like he’s trying to drag our torment on a bit longer. “Early this morning, young Mr. Shaw was seen manhandling Miss Cavanaugh outside Holland’s.”

“What?” Lachlan and I both burst.

Brewer puts a hand up. “He forced her into his truck and drove off to an unknown location.”

Bells clang between my ears. I have to really force myself to listen over the sound of their screaming.

“He was seen by Miss Rousseau who got into Miss Cavanaugh’s vehicle and gave chase.”

“Lauren?” I blurt, heart hammering with a new surge of panic.

Brewer nods. “She found them in the woods. He was assaulting Miss Cavanaugh. She stopped him and got Miss Cavanaugh back to Jefferson.”

I can’t speak. Can barely think. I don’t know which thread of emotion I’m supposed to hang onto when they’re all tangling together.

Next to me, Lachlan looks on the verge of throwing up. Every drop of color has vanished from his face, leaving behind an ashen hue.

“Dr. Hammell assures me that Miss Cavanaugh will make a full recovery, but we are unable to locate Mr. Shaw.”

Lachlan makes a strangled noise, but falls silent once more. I can only stare at the island, brain fighting to process.

“I’m telling you this in confidence,” Brewer continues, “I want you to hear it from me. News is going to spread fast and it’s going to get messy. Everly is loved in this town and not a soul here isn’t going to want blood, if you get my drift.”

“Lachlan had nothing to do with this,” I snap, despising the implication in his gravelly voice. “And, trust me, I want his head as much as anyone else.”

Brewer doesn’t bat an eye at my outrage. “Sins of the son fall heavily on the father. No one’s going to believe you don’tknow where Bron is. It would be best if you told me anything you might know.”

“I don’t know—”

“I’ve been with Lachlan all day,” I tell the other man, shoulders squaring. “I would tell you exactly where that little fucker is if we knew, but we don’t.”

Brewer nods slowly. “I have to ask.” He turns shrewd eyes back to Lachlan. “If you hear anything, anything at all, call me.” He doesn’t wait for our response when slipping his hat on and turning to leave. He pauses just in the doorway and glances back. “And it might be best if you didn’t reach out to Miss Cavanaugh at this time. She’s suffered quite an ordeal and needs time to heal. Reminders of her attacker might only upset her further.”

He’s fucking insane if he thinks we’re going to let Everly deal with this alone. I don’t say as much as the man disappears down the hallway. I wait until the front door clicks shut before scrambling for my phone.

I dial Lauren’s number. My daughter picks up on the third ring.

“Hey, Dad,”she mutters, voice thick with tears and exhaustion.

“Hey, where are you? Are you okay?”

I hear shuffling and a door opening.

“Home and yeah.”

---