Page 90 of Shadows of You

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.”

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