Shadows of You (Lost & Found #4)(45)

Aspen nodded.

“I’d like to take a look.”

She pushed her chair back and stood. I didn’t miss the shakiness in her limbs. That only made me want to gut the man more. Rip him limb from limb. I felt a desperate, clawing need to know that Aspen was safe and he couldn’t torment her anymore.

“Can you handle this?” Lawson asked, voice low.

My gaze jerked away from the hall and toward him. “Of course, I can.”

“You sure as hell aren’t acting like it.”

My back teeth ground together. “She should’ve said something.”

“Maybe. But you don’t need to bite her head off because of it.”

I gripped the table, the worn edge biting into my palms. “I know.”

Lawson sighed. “Take a walk if you need it. There’s no shame in having to pull it together.”

I glared at him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Fine, but you need to wipe that look off your face.”

“What look?”

Lawson picked up his mug of tea. “The one that says you’re about to go on a murder spree, taking out anyone who looks at Aspen wrong.”

I bit the inside of my cheek and then forced a smile. “How’s this?”

Lawson blinked a few times as he stared at me. “You look like a feral clown or something. Pretty sure that’s going to give me nightmares.”

I socked him in the arm.

“Hey, don’t hate on me because I told you the truth.”

Footsteps sounded on the hardwood, and I tried to find that mask again. The one that allowed me to keep everything I was feeling on the inside.

Aspen slid an envelope in front of Lawson. “Here.”

He pushed back from the table. “I want to grab gloves and an evidence bag really quick.”

Aspen winced. “I didn’t even think about the fingerprints thing.”

Lawson squeezed her shoulder. “It’s okay. You didn’t know what was inside.”

He headed through the living room and out the front door, leaving Aspen and me in silence.

She wound her way around the table and slid into her chair again, not saying a word.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

She looked up, studying me for a moment. “I like you better when you’re not hiding.”

I blinked. “What?”

Aspen drew a circle in the air that encompassed my face. “I like authenticity better than fake politeness.”

I swallowed hard. “I scared you.”

She shrugged. “You startled me. There’s a difference. You were angry. Because you care. I like that better.”

I moved on instinct, covering her hand with mine and gripping it tightly. “I was fucking furious. Almost decked Law when he told me what happened at The Brew. Want to kill that waste of space in prison and do it slow. There’s so much anger in me it nearly burns me alive. And it’s always been safer if I keep a lid on it.”

Aspen’s green eyes stayed locked with mine as I spoke. She didn’t waver, didn’t look away, not even for a second. “You have to let it out. If you don’t, it’ll eat you alive.”

She wasn’t wrong. I’d been letting it devour me for so long I was used to living in the agony. “I don’t trust myself to do that.”

“Because people already look at you like they should be scared,” Aspen surmised.

No one had ever guessed that or understood it. “Some part of me wonders if they were right to be afraid.”

Aspen flipped her hand over, lacing her fingers through mine and squeezing the blood out of my palm. “They couldn’t be more wrong. You’re a good man, Roan. Maybe the best I’ve ever known. You hide that gentle goodness beneath mountains of armor. But that doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

A burn lit in my throat, making it impossible to speak.

The screen door slapped against the frame, and Aspen pulled her hand from mine. I instantly missed her touch. It felt like I’d lost the best gift I’d ever received.

Lawson’s steps slowed as he approached. “Everything okay?”

Aspen laughed. It was light and airy, everything the situation wasn’t. “Just obsessed podcasters, letters from the man who tried to kill me, and mean-girl moms and daughters. Your typical everyday happenings.”

I frowned at her. “Mean-girl moms and daughters?”

She waved me off. “A story for another day.”

“I’m glad you’re keeping your sense of humor,” Lawson said, snapping on gloves.

I wasn’t so happy about it. It made me worry that Aspen wasn’t taking things as seriously as she should be.

“Better laughing than crying. Both release endorphins, you know,” she explained.

Lawson carefully examined the envelope before opening it. “I didn’t know that.”

“If you need to let go, watch a funny or sad movie. Laugh or cry and release it all.”

“I’ll remember that,” Lawson said as he pulled the sheet of paper from the envelope and deposited the envelope in one evidence bag.

Slowly and methodically, he unfolded the letter. I wanted to rip the paper from his hands to read the words. He laid it on the table, and I stared at the letters.