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.
You think you can take her from me? You’re going to pay. In blood.
That fury was back, burning through me. But the icy-cold fear won out this time. This wasn’t someone writing to express regret or even anger. This was someone hell-bent on vengeance for what he saw as a wrong.
My vision tunneled as memories assailed me.
“You think you’re gonna get away with this, you little bitch boy?” a man’s voice sneered as his boot crashed into my ribs.
“Fuckin’ pigs might not be doing shit, but we will,” another snarled.
Something cracked across my skull, and everything went black.
A hand squeezed my arm, bringing me back to the present. Aspen was there, worry filling her expression. I blinked a few times and cleared my throat, trying to shake it off. “He should be having his incoming and outgoing mail examined, shouldn’t he?”
Lawson nodded. “But inmates have a way of finding workarounds. Nothing is foolproof.”
“We need to call the warden at his prison.” My voice was even, as if the memories I battled had deadened everything inside me.
“Gonna do that as soon as I get back to the office, but I’m guessing he’ll be gone for the day. It’s a few hours later in Mississippi.”
And what could happen overnight? How many letters could John sneak out? How many plans could he set in motion?
Aspen glanced at my brother. “Why don’t you leave Charlie here? You can grab him on your way home.”
“You don’t need an extra kid underfoot,” he argued.
“Charlie’s a joy, and I did promise the kids they could help me with some recipe experimentation. But I should warn you, he’ll probably come home hopped up and covered in chocolate.”
Lawson chuckled. “He’s come home covered in far worse.”
“Then we’re good to go,” Aspen said with a smile.
It amazed me that it was authentic. We were looking at a threat from the man who had tried to end her life, and here she was, smiling about inventing recipes with two six-year-olds.
“Thanks. That gives me a few hours before I need to pick Drew up from practice and get Luke from his friend’s.” Lawson slid the letter into a second evidence bag and sealed it. “I’ll get these to the station and filed, but I’ll do it myself so there aren’t any curious eyes.”