What the hell was I doing? This was the definition of a dumb-girl move. Like when the heroine of a slasher movie runs back into the house instead of going to her neighbor’s for help.

Yet here I was, sending myself into the killer’s den to get sliced and diced. And I couldn’t help but think that it would be worth it, just for a little more of that hopeful gleam in Holt’s eyes.

I lowered myself to the couch, putting as much distance between us as possible. It was a mistake. The second I entered his orbit, the scent of pine with a hint of spice swirled around me—part comforting hug, part brutal slash to my heart.

“What was wrong with this one?” I choked out. I had to focus on something else, anything but the memories warring to get free.

Holt’s gaze swept over my face, assessing. Even my best mask wasn’t enough because he would always read me like a book. No, it was more than that. He could sense what I was feeling, as if whispers of those same emotions radiated through him.

His eyes held mine for another beat, and then he turned back to the watch currently in pieces on the table. “This one has a sticky second hand.”

“So, it’s stuck in time?”

Holt nodded. “It ticks but doesn’t make any forward progress.”

“Like it’s living the same moment over and over again.” God, I knew how that felt. And it tended to be the worst one possible. The crushing blow of my eyes tracking over the words in Holt’s letter. The one that told me he was letting me go.

Holt shifted in his seat, his assessing gaze back to probe all my scars. “It happens more than you might think.”

There was a wealth of understanding in those words. And for the first time since Holt had returned, I felt a whisper of his emotions wash over me. He was trapped in the same prison, but his moment was different. Finding me on the bathroom floor. Not knowing if I was alive or dead.

I tried to put myself in his shoes and imagine what it would have been like to walk in on him like that. I’d seen the photos of the aftermath at the trial—the white tile floor smeared with so much blood it seemed impossible for anyone to have lived through it.

An image flashed in my mind. Holt crumpled on the floor, a gaping hole in his chest. I felt the panic coursing through me, the desperation to stop the blood. To help.

I shook my head, trying to rid myself of the nightmare. Holt’s hand encircled mine. “Hey, what’s going on?”

The burn was back, lighting up my throat and encasing my eyes. “I’m sorry.”

His fingers lifted to my face, ghosting over my cheek and brushing the hair out of my eyes. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

“I’m sorry you found me like that.”

Holt’s hand stilled. “I just wish I had been earlier.”

“Don’t. Please, don’t wish that.” My gaze lifted to his, the pull undeniable. “They would’ve hurt you, too. Could’ve killed you.”

His fingers tightened in my hair. “I don’t care. We would’ve found a way out. A way through.”

“You did replace that. You kept me breathing. Kept me alive. You think that’s nothing?”

A muscle fluttered in Holt’s jaw. “It’s not nearly enough. You shouldn’t have had to face it alone.”

My gaze locked on Holt’s. “I need you to do something for me.”

He didn’t say a word.

I looked at the watch. “I haven’t asked you for anything, not for almost ten years.” Not since he’d left me with only a goodbye scribbled on some notebook paper. “I need you to do just one thing for me.”

“What?” The single word was a hoarse whisper.

I lifted my head so I could look into Holt’s eyes, our faces just a breath away from each other. “Forgive yourself. Let this go before it destroys you.”

It had already cost him so much: our relationship. His bond with his family. It was time to release these demons.

Holt stared at me, and so much emotion swirled in those deep blue depths. “I don’t know if I can.”

My hand locked around his wrist, squeezing. “If I don’t blame you, you sure as hell shouldn’t blame yourself. Honestly, it’s insulting that you think I would.”

“I don’t—I just…”

“You what?”

“It tortures me. The thought of you alone and scared. Knowing they were coming and having to hide in a damn cabinet, just praying you’d be safe. Seeing the gun and knowing what was coming. And you were alone. I can’t stand that you were alone.”

“I wasn’t.”

Holt’s hand flinched as his expression filled with endless questions.

“You were with me. In that moment where I knew what was coming? I pictured you. Imagined what it felt like to have your arms around me.”

“Wren.” My name was a ravaged sound on his lips.

“So, you didn’t leave me alone.” Not until he walked away and didn’t look back.

Holt’s forehead pressed to mine. Our breaths mingled. “Wren…”

It would be so easy to close that distance. To remember what it felt like to lose myself in Holt’s arms, instead of having to imagine each night as I fell asleep. But how much worse would it hurt if he walked away again?

I jerked back. “I need to go to bed. I have work tomorrow.”

I bolted for my bedroom before Holt had a chance to say another word. But as I climbed beneath the sheets and burrowed against Shadow’s side, I knew sleep wouldn’t replace me tonight.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I listened. At first, there was nothing. Then I heard a soft hum.

I let a few curses fly under my breath. So much for leaving first thing in the morning. I started for the kitchen, refusing to take the coward’s way out and making a run for my truck.

As I rounded the corner, I blinked. The bar counter was set with two placemats and cloth napkins. Little bowls of sliced fruit were on one side, and glasses of orange juice on the other. Shadow let out a happy bark as she danced around the space. And there, looking right at home, was Holt.

“I hope you don’t mind. I took her out a little bit ago,” Holt said as he slid two scrambles with toast onto the place settings.

“Uh, yeah. That’s fine.” I stared at the sight in front of me. “What is this?”

That devilish smile spread across Holt’s face. “Pretty sure it’s breakfast.”

I glared at him. “I know that.”

His grin only grew. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, and from what I remember, cereal was about all you had mastered.”

“I know how to cook.” I wasn’t a chef by any means, but I could handle the basics. I just hated doing it. The memories of that night had ruined all culinary attempts, so I lived on frozen meals and takeout most of the time. The fact that Holt had found enough ingredients to make the feast before us was shocking.

He pulled out one of the stools. “Sit. Please. I want to run something by you.”

I eyed him warily but lowered myself to the stool. The scramble smelled amazing.

“Why are you glaring at your breakfast?” Holt asked as he sat next to me.

“Because it smells so good.”

He chuckled. “And that’s a bad thing?”

I let out a huff of air. I didn’t need Holt in here making amazing breakfasts and looking all sexy with his mussed hair and perfectly fitted T-shirt. A pang lanced my heart. How many T-shirts had I stolen from him over the years? Even now, they were shoved in a box in the back of my closet. I didn’t want to look at them every day, but I couldn’t bear to get rid of them either.

I popped a piece of banana into my mouth. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

He opened the notebook that lay between us. “This is what I’d like to do for a security system for you. Cameras at all the entry points and over a few windows. Motion detectors here, here, and here. Alarm sensors on windows and doors. Panic buttons in each room. We could also think about turning that hall closet into a panic room.”

I gaped at Holt. “Have you been drinking the drugs?”

“If you mean coffee, then yes.”

“No, I mean some crazy hallucinogenic something that would make you think I’d let you turn my cozy cabin into a superspy lair.”

Holt leaned back, taking me in. “I’m not turning your cabin into a superspy lair. I’m making it secure.”

You’re not doing anything. This is my home. I say what comes into these four walls and what doesn’t.”

A muscle in his cheek ticked. “Someone was lurking around your house. You need things in place to keep yourself safe.”

“There are locks on all my doors and windows, and I use them. I’ve got a cell signal amplifier so I can always make and receive calls. That’s enough.”

“I could break those window locks in two seconds, and it would take me less than fifteen to pick the locks on your doors.”

I scowled at Holt. “The only thing that proves is that you’ve picked up some delinquent hobbies in the past ten years.”

He scoffed. “It means this place isn’t safe. Unless you want me sleeping in your spare room every night—”

“Excuse me? I let you stay for one night. One. Because you gave me that damn wounded look. You aren’t staying another. And you sure as hell don’t get to show up after a decade and try to take over. If I decide I need an alarm system, then I’ll call the company in town.”

“Wren—”

The doorbell ringing cut Holt off.

“Wren, you okay?” Chris called. “There’s a weird SUV in your drive.”

I cursed but slid off the stool and headed for the front of the cabin. “I’m fine.” I flipped the lock and opened the door.

Chris’s concerned gaze went to me and then the hulking figure behind me. His jaw tightened. “Holt.”

The behemoth behind me didn’t say anything for a moment, simply stared. “Morning.”

I made big eyes at Jude, who was behind Chris, trying his damnedest not to laugh. He coughed. “Morning, Little Williams. Just wanted to check on you before we headed to the jobsite.”

“Police calls should be confidential.”

“Public record, Cricket,” Holt said from behind me.

“Well, they shouldn’t be.”

Chris’s eyes ping-ponged from me to Holt and back again. “We ran into Nash at the diner this morning.”

“Remind me to thank him later,” I mumbled.

Chris squeezed my shoulder. “Why didn’t you call? You know you could’ve come to stay with me if you were freaked.”

“I was fine. I just had Lawson come check things out as a precaution.”

“Which was the smart thing to do,” Holt said gruffly.

Chris’s gaze shifted to Holt. “And you decided to play bodyguard.”

He shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure she was okay.”

“That was good of you,” Chris said but didn’t sound all that convincing. “Wren, why don’t you pack a bag and stay with me for a while? Just until Lawson figures out what’s going on.”

The anger from behind me hit me like a blast. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I appreciate the help—all of you. But what I need right now is to get ready for work in peace. I’m not staying with anyone. I’m not installing some NASA security system in my house. None of it.”

I strode to the living room and grabbed Holt’s duffel. “Thank you for looking out for me, but I’m good.”

“Wren—”

“Please. Can you all just go?”

Jude sent me a sympathetic look and grabbed the back of Chris’s jacket. “Come on. We need to get to work.”

“But—” Chris started.

“No buts,” Jude cut him off. “Let’s leave the lady in peace.”

Holt didn’t say a word. He simply waited for Chris and Jude to leave and then followed them out. His steps faltered, and he turned to look at me. His mouth opened as if he were about to say something, but he simply shook his head.

The snick of my door shutting echoed around the space, reverberating off my bones. And all I could think about was how easy it had been for Holt to walk out that door.

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