Page 13 of Whispers of You
I froze in the entryway of the bed and breakfast. I’d known it was a risk to stay here, but I hadn’t wanted to stay at my parents’ place, and my siblings all had their own lives; they didn’t need me crowding their space.
I slowly turned around and forced a smile as I took in the woman in her early sixties. “Ms. Peabody. Nice to see you.”
She clasped her hands in front of her and practically vibrated with excitement. “You’re grown now. You know you can call me Janice.”
Her nickname growing up had been Ms. Busybody, and with good reason.
“All right, Janice.”
Her shoulders gave a little shimmy. “I was so excited when I saw your name on the roster. I knew you’d come home eventually. All good sons do.” She leaned in a little closer, a look of exaggerated sympathy on her face. “How is it being back? I know there has to be a lot of memories…”
Janice let the sentence hang, waiting for me to finish it. She’d be waiting a hell of a long time.
I locked down my expression. I’d had years to master my blank mask. She wasn’t getting any tidbits of information to gossip over with her cronies.
“It’s good to be back, but I need to head out. Wouldn’t want to be late to my parents’.”
“Oh, of course not. Tell your mom hi for me.”
I didn’t miss the disappointment in her voice. I’d continue being a disappointment every time she tried one of these ambushes. I’d tried to snag one of the vacation rentals in town, but they were all booked up for the season. Still, it might be worth trying again in case someone had canceled.
Giving Janice a nod, I headed for the door.
“Wren’s working across the street. I’m sure your brothers told you, but just in case they didn’t…I’m sure she’d love to see you.”
My gait hitched in mid-step. So much for that blank mask. But I didn’t say a word, just kept walking.
My pulse beat harder in my neck, the rapid rhythm of trying to fight off the memories. The sticky feeling of her blood between my fingers. Her fading heartbeat. The knowledge that I’d failed her. She’d almost died because of me. Because I’d let Nash distract me. I might as well have been holding the gun myself.
I sucked in the mountain air as I stepped outside onto Main Street. There was nothing like it. It didn’t matter how many places I’d been, none of them smelled quite like this—a blend of pine and fresh water and something unique to Cedar Ridge. I let it fill my nostrils and swirl around, praying it would cleanse the nightmare images from my brain.
“Holt?”
My head jerked up at the familiar voice—older now, deeper, and a little raw with age.
I forced another of those fake-as-hell smiles. “Jude. Good to see you, man.”
He strode forward to take my hand in a hard grasp. “Thought I was looking at a ghost.”
Maybe he was. There were times I thought my life had ended the day I almost lost Wren. I moved through the world differently now and saw everything through an entirely new lens.
Motion behind Jude caught my attention as another of my high school friends stepped forward. Chris gave me a chin lift, but there wasn’t a whole lot of welcome in his dark gaze. “Holt.”
I didn’t blame him for that lack of warmth. When I’d bailed on Cedar Ridge, I’d bailed on everyone. It had felt like the only way to keep from drowning was to pretend that I was an entirely different person—without friends or family I talked to more than once a week.
Withouther.
“Hey, Chris.”
I extended a hand, and he waited for a beat before accepting it.
“What are you doing in town?” Jude asked. His face looked the same, but he’d bulked up since high school, his shoulders broader. And he’d gained a good fifteen pounds of muscle.
“Wanted to spend some time with my dad and the rest of the family.” To try to mend some of the hurt I’d caused. Maybe find a new normal.
Chris shifted his lanky frame, begrudgingly turning his gaze to me. “How’s he doing?”
“Better. Just ornery.”
