Page 33

His words hit me in the chest.

I sat with them a moment.

“But he ran,” I countered, giving him a pointed look. “We were… Gods, I don’t understand why he would do that.”

Colt pulled his pickup into my driveway, stopping short of the garage. He released his hands from the wheel, laying them on his thighs.

Silence engulfed the truck.

When he finally spoke, his words were cautious. “I’m not condoning what he did, but, if he ran, he’ll have his reasons.”

Colt’s eyes finally found mine, and I saw it then. “What do you know that I don’t?” I asked, squaring him with a hard look.

His ice-blue eyes didn’t waver from mine. “That’s not for me to say.”

“So, there is something?” I pushed.

His mouth drew into a thin line. “You need to talk to Reid.”

“He can’t just treat people like that,” I said. I swore Reid was so hot and cold lately. I didn’t know if I was speaking to Jekyll or Hyde.

“I agree. That wasn’t his finest move.”

I snorted. “Dick move if you ask me.” I opened the car door, stepping outside.

“Scar.” Colt’s tone made me pause. “Just go easy on him.”

Go easy on him? Why in all hell should I go easy on him?

I gripped the truck door tighter. “Yeah, right.”

Colt leaned on the center console, his other hand gripping the wheel. “I’m serious. You and I both know he has his…” He struggled to find the right word. “Challenges.”

I was pretty sure no man in our lifetime had ever found sticking around for fifteen seconds after making a girl come a challenge.

I sighed, turning my gaze to the ocean. Tonight, the sea lay eerily calm, save for the occasional wash turning over onto the shore.

“Please,” he insisted, his forehead rippling with concern.

I stared at him, trying to read between the lines, but came up blank. All I knew was, when Colt asked you to do something, he had good reason, and everyone knew to take his advice. “Fine,” I grumbled.

A quick nod and he started the engine. “Stay warm, and good luck.”

“You too. Thanks for the ride,” I said, shutting the pickup’s door.

As the sound of his engine drifted into the distance, I made my way to the doorstep. Drawing in a deep breath, I tried the door handle, surprised when it swung open.

He was home.

My stomach flipped over on itself, my nerves coming alive, knowing I would see him again. But what would I say? And how should I act?

Stepping inside, the house was quiet, save for my boots on the floorboards. My eyes widened as my gaze dipped to a smudge of red on the back of the door. A bloodied hand print.

My chest tightened.

Noting the same smudges on the wall in the stairwell, I cautiously made my way to the bottom of the landing, a large wad of dread sitting low in my throat.

“Reid?” My voice bounced off the walls with no reply.