Page 85 of Whispers of You
“I’m so sorry. Those words aren’t enough but—” Holt’s words cut off as his gaze jerked to the window. The sun glinted off it as it sank low in the sky.
The color leached from Holt’s face, and it was as if the world around me slowed. “Down!”
But Holt was already moving, throwing himself at me. Glass shattered. Holt’s body collided with mine. And then we were falling.
29
HOLT
Blood roaredin my ears as I took Wren down, rolling us toward the couch and cover.
Shadow let out a series of loud barks.
“Shadow, bed,” I bellowed.
The dog ran to the crate that housed her bed. It would give her cover. Protection.
My hand slid to the holster at the small of my back, pulling my weapon. My gaze jumped from the trees to Wren, moving back and forth as I tried to assess as much of the situation as I could in brief snapshots. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
Wren blinked up at me, stunned. “I-I think I’m fine.”
My free hand skimmed over her body, looking for any signs of injury. When I found none, I pulled my phone from my pocket and hit Lawson’s contact.
“No updates yet, Holt. I told you I’d call when—”
“Someone just shot at me and Wren at the cabin. Rifle shot. Northwest side of the yard.” The faint sound of an all-terrain vehicle starting up carried on the air. “Look for an ATV. I can hear the engine.”
Lawson was already moving, barking orders to someone. “Are you and Wren hit? You okay?”
The slight hint of panic reminded me just how much my brother loved me. “We’re both fine. Can’t say the same for her window.”
“Keep cover until we get there.”
“You got it.”
I disconnected the call and looked down at Wren. She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were wide, her gaze shifting too quickly as it scanned my body.
“Wren? Talk to me.”
Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out.
I laid my gun on the floor within easy reach and began feeling each of Wren’s limbs, trying to lift her to check her back. Had she been hit, and I hadn’t realized it?
The moment I tried to get her into a sitting position, Wren threw herself at me. She held on with everything she had, her legs wrapped around my waist, arms gripping me like a vise. A sob tore free from her throat.
“Cricket.” I leaned back against the couch, taking her with me. “We’re okay.”
“You dove in front of a bullet.” The words were barely discernable through hiccupped sobs.
“I dove foryou. I will every time.”
Her head shook back and forth frantically. “You can’t. Promise me. You can’t.”
Wren chanted the words over and over as if she could will the vow from me.
“I can’t promise you that.”
Her fist thumped against my back. “Why?”
