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“I don’t want to talk about it here.” He glanced at the door of the bar, where the sounds of music and a chorus of voices drifted toward us. “I have the report from the evidence lab in my car.”
“Okay?”
He nodded toward the right side of the building where the parking lot extended toward the back. “Let’s talk in there. We’re less likely to be overheard. I parked around the corner.”
I nodded. “Sure.”
Xander gestured for me to walk ahead, and he stayed close behind as we rounded the side of the bar. It was dark on this side of the building; there weren’t any lights here. I barely made out the outline of a dark vehicle parked a couple of spaces down.
I felt Xander close behind me; his heat radiated against my back. A breeze kicked up, ruffling my hair forward and bringing with it Xander’s scent.
I stopped in my tracks, my lungs ceasing.
That scent was familiar. Something that haunted my dreams and I hadn’t even realized it. My skin broke out in a cold sweat.
It was the exact scent from the night my best friend was murdered in her bed.
“Lark?” Xander’s voice was a low whisper in my ear, but I didn’t have time to pull away before a hand clamped down over my mouth.
I kicked out, but Xander was a hard wall of muscle behind me and he barely budged. I struggled against his impossibly tight hold, my skin bruising beneath his iron grip around my middle. He grunted as I managed to elbow him in the gut, and he hurled me to the side, throwing me into the building so hard my head snapped forward and collided with the hard brick. Stars flashed in my vision as something pricked my neck. There was a stinging pain and a warmth spread down my body.
I struggled for a while longer until my arms and legs began to get heavy. I tried to fight it, but my eyes became too heavy to keep open. My body collapsed into Xander’s arms as a wave of unconsciousness took me away.
35
Reid
It had been over twenty-four hours since I’d seen or talked to Lark. I missed her so damn much, but she’d asked me for space. I’d wanted to honor that request, no matter how difficult it was.
My throat burned as I climbed the steps of the back porch of my parents’ home. I’d been at the office all day, trying—and failing—to focus on any of my work. My thoughts were only with Lark, of how she was doing and whether she was going to forgive me for being such an idiot.
She’d spent last night at the bed-and-breakfast, and I’d forced myself to stay away from this house all day, but as the sun went down and I left to go home, my feet took me here instead of my car.
Shame washed over me as I stepped through the back door and into the kitchen. It was past dinner time. The savory scent of Mom’s beef stew lingered in the air, but the kitchen was empty. I wasn’t sure whether my parents were staying on the main floor or down in the basement apartment. They tried to stay downstairs when they had guests in the house, but it was only Lark as far as I knew.
I headed toward the front of the house. The faint sound of the television met my ears, and I peeked into the living room.
Dad was lounging on his favorite chair, watching an old game of his favorite college football team. Mom looked up at me from her seat on the couch, her knitting needles stilled in her hands.
“Hey, sweetheart,” she said softly. Her mouth pulled up into a warm smile.
Dad turned his head from his game, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing here so late?”
It wasn’t that late, but our parents had been conditioned for us to drop in unannounced during mealtimes and not much outside that. One of us coming over after dinner without giving them a heads-up was a rare occurrence.
Mom shot dad an eye roll. “Come on, babe. He’s obviously here to check up on Lark.”
My face heated. “I don’t have to see her. I just wanted to make sure she was doing okay.”
That was a bunch of crap. Every fiber of my being was hoping she’d come and see me. I was willing to fall on my knees and beg for her forgiveness at this point.
My dad’s brows rose. “I see.” His lips fought a smile. “Well, I haven’t seen her come in yet tonight.”
I frowned. “What do you mean? She’s not here?”
“I don’t think so. You can go check her room, but her vehicle isn’t here and we haven’t seen her.”
“Do you know where she is?”
