Page 49 of You Found Me in the Dark
“I mean it, Whitmore,” she added, already halfway out the door. “You tell him or I do.”
“Fuckin’ hell,” I muttered. I did not want to have that conversation.
The door clicked shut behind her, and the garage settled into silence.
I pulled out my phone again, thumbs hovering over the screen for just a beat before I typed:
Me
Wear something cozy, Little Birdie. I’ve got the perfect idea. Be there a little after 8.
I hit send before I could overthink it. This wasn’t just a drive. This was me, giving her a piece of quiet she hadn’t had in years. I hoped like hell I was someone she could trust to hold it.
30
REED
The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a sky streaked in shades of burnt orange, soft coral, and dusky pink. The clouds, scattered like watercolor brushstrokes, caught the last golden light and glowed like embers. Everything was bathed in that fleeting, magical hue between day and night.
The air was warm enough to leave the windows down without a hoodie, the breeze carrying the scent of fresh earth and late spring blooms. It rustled gently through the trees, soft and unhurried, like even the wind had decided to slow down. Crickets had just started their nightly chorus, and the first stars blinked quietly to life above.
It was the kind of night that felt like a pause—like time itself had decided to take a breath.
I’d spent the past hour prepping the bed of the truck like a man possessed—blankets layered for softness, throw pillows stolen from my couch, fairy lights I’d rigged along the sides that I may have borrowed from Dax’s Christmas tote. I even brought alittle speaker for music if she wanted it. I didn’t know exactly what she needed from tonight, but I knew I wanted her to feel safe. Seen. And maybe a little spoiled.
In the small cooler I’d packed the snacks she always picked when we went to gas stations—spicy chips, peanut butter pretzels, some weird bagged pickle—and that God-awful bottled green tea she loved that tasted like grass and vomit.
I couldn’t help smiling as I double-checked everything. No one had ever made me nervous the way she did. Not like this. It wasn’t just about impressing her; for me, it was about honoring something fragile and important. Something I didn’t want to mess up. I carefully placed the truck bed cover back on so things didn’t blow away as we drove.
My phone vibrated in my cupholder.
Little Birdie
I feel like a teenager sneaking out like this. Be outside in 2 minutes. Are you close?
I chuckled, heart kicking.
Me
pretty girl, you bringing back your rebellious streak? About 4 minutes away.
Little Birdie
Maybe… if you’re lucky.
By the time I checked the clock on my dash, it was already after nine. Later than I’d like since the drive was almost an hour. I let her know that it was going to be a bit after eight, but I needed time to clear my head after talking to Harper.
When I finally pulled up in front of Wren’s place, the porch light was off, and the living room sat mostly dark except for thesoft flicker of the TV through the front window. Cam was probably passed out watching reruns again, sprawled across the couch like he did after a long day at the shop.
She was sitting alone on the porch wearing my hoodie, her spandex shorts showed off her legs, and half of her auburn hair was pulled back in a loose knot. She glanced around like she was dodging security cameras, then jogged across the lawn and climbed into the truck, pulling the door closed with a soft click. I chose to park on the side street for an easier exit.
“Hey,” she said, cheeks a little pink from the quiet adrenaline.
“Hey yourself,” I said, grinning as I pulled away from the curb. “Smooth escape.”
“Yeah, thank God for that. Not sure we want to deal with another sibling today.”
We both laughed as we drove, the town lights giving way to open roads and endless sky.
