“Not a bad idea,” I said.
Lawson tapped his fingers on the table. “I didn’t want anyone to panic.”
I pinned him with a stare. “I think we’re past that. Two people are dead.”
His jaw tightened. “Point taken.”
Lawson shouldered everything, including the weight of the entire town. He didn’t want to frighten a soul if he didn’t have to.
Nash glanced at our older brother. “Word has already gotten around to most everyone. This will warn those who haven’t heard to be careful on the hiking trails.”
“All right. I’ll have something drawn up.”
A knock sounded on the conference room door, but the person on the other side didn’t wait for an answer. The door swung open, and Wren appeared, one hand on her pregnant belly, her face pale. “Abel’s on a call from The Brew. Aspen’s missing.”
Everything in me stilled. The air in my lungs seized. I must have heard her wrong.
My ears rang as Nash and Lawson leapt to their feet. Nash was at my side instantly, hauling me up, his expression full of concern. “Roan.”
The sound of my name had me jerking out of my haze, and then I was moving. I shoved aside chairs and bolted for the door, Nash and Lawson on my heels. I didn’t stop for a damn thing as I booked it out of the station and down the sidewalk.
All I could see was Aspen’s face in my mind. That stupid glitter headband from Cady. The way the light in her green eyes danced when she gave me hell. How they went soft when she told me she saw the best in me. The way they heated when I knew she wanted more.
I hauled open the door to The Brew, making the bell jangle in a weird, off-kilter way. Everyone’s gaze shot to me.
Officer Hall, the cook, Zeke, and Jonesy were huddled together in the hallway as customers milled about the café. I stalked toward them. “What the hell happened?”
Their heads snapped up.
Zeke paled, guilt filling his expression. “She took the trash out. It was taking forever, so I finally went out to see what the issue was, and she was just…gone.”
“You let her take the trash out alone?” I growled.
Nash took hold of my arm. “Breathe, brother.”
I shook him off and shoved past the dick who’d let Aspen outside by herself. Jerking the door open, I scanned the alley and the woods. There was nothing.
I yelled her name. Still no sound.
Lawson, Nash, and I fanned out, our eyes on the ground, looking for signs of anything as we walked toward the dumpster.
My gaze caught on something on the cement. Was that oil?
I crouched low, touching a finger to the ground. As I brought my hand up, my stomach pitched and roiled. Blood.
“Law,” I choked.
He was by my side in a flash, a curse on his lips. “We don’t know anything. Keep breathing.”
But I couldn’t. Aspen had always told me I made her feel safe—for the first time in years. But I’d failed her. I’d promised her I had her back, and she’d been out here alone.
My ribs tightened, my breaths coming in quick pants. But all I could do was stare down at my hand. The blood. Aspen’s blood. The stain would be with me forever.
“Didn’t tell her I love her,” I rasped.
“Roan,” Nash said quietly.
“It freaked me out, knowing I felt that way, so I didn’t give her the words.”
And now, I might not get the chance.
48
ASPEN
My mouth felt like cotton, fuzzy and dry. My eyelids fluttered, flickers of light bursting into my vision. Everything hurt as if I’d been caught in a riptide and banged against the rocks several dozen times.
It took more than a few tries to bring my surroundings into focus. They were blurry at first like I had on glasses that didn’t belong to me.
Then I saw it. A simple, one-room cabin. A tiny kitchenette. A small sitting area. A bed.
And a person tied to a wooden chair next to me.
My stomach dropped as bile surged. Everything came together in a kaleidoscope of memories. Taking out the trash. The noise. Being hit on the head.
Someone injecting me with something—drugs, obviously.
“Steven?” I croaked.
His eyes were wide as he jerked against his bindings. His wrists were secured to the arms of the chair, and his ankles to the legs. There was some sort of scarf or bandana tied around his mouth so he couldn’t speak, only make muffled grunting noises.
What the hell is happening?
Then I saw what held me to my seat: zip ties at the wrists and ankles. That bile was back, panic hot on its heels.