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.”
Aspen nodded. “Thanks, Law. I know keeping this under wraps is tough, but I appreciate it.”
“I’ll do whatever I can to help.” He gathered his things and headed for the door. “See you later, Charlie Bear,” he called.
“Bye, Dad!”
Aspen followed Lawson and locked the door as it closed.
I turned, watching her make her way back to me. “How do you do it?”
Her expression turned puzzled. “Do what?”
“Laugh with everything that’s going on and truly mean it?”
She rested a hip against the table, looking down at me. “Everyone has their struggles, but sometimes I think those who have gone through the worst are the ones with the deepest ability to find joy, even in moments of hardship and heartache.”
I stared at Aspen, taking in her beauty and letting it fully hit me for the first time. It wasn’t just her gorgeous red hair, piercing green eyes, and lush lips. It was the light that radiated out of her, casting a glow on everyone and everything around her.
Truly seeing that for the first time? I knew one thing.
I was completely screwed.
22
ASPEN
I leaned back in the uncomfortable plastic chair and watched girls in various shades of tutus and leotards twirl across the room. I loved watching Cady dance. It wasn’t that she was insanely gifted; it was the sheer joy that surrounded her while she did the thing she loved the most.
But my mind kept drifting today. Back to the man who had stolen way too many thoughts. To the one who’d slept on my lumpy couch yet again. I’d awoken to cussing about a demon cat and laughed into my pillow.
Roan had scowled at me when I emerged in my fluffy robe and slippers. “That cat needs a muzzle,” he’d said.
I’d just nodded and told him I’d look into it, knowing I never would.
The truth was, I loved his cranky scowls just as much as I enjoyed when his expression lightened. Because those glowers, grimaces, and glares just meant that the lip twitches and chuckles hit that much harder when they came.
Movement from Cady’s pink glitter tutu caught my eye. She executed a spin, but she didn’t have her typical beaming smile when she stopped. And her eyes were red as if she fought tears.
I instantly straightened, going on alert. Heather and her two awful sidekicks were snickering together as they sent looks in Cady’s direction. Anger and worry surged inside me.
The ballet teacher clapped her hands. “That’s it for today. I’ll see you tomorrow. Make sure you get lots of practice.”
Cady made a beeline for me, and I crouched low, pulling her into a hug. “What happened, Katydid?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “Can we go home?”
“Of course.” I slid on her winter coat and helped her with her boots. I’d talk to her once we were home, and she wasn’t at risk of falling apart in front of her classmates. But that didn’t stop me from throwing a death glare at Katelyn and her daughter as we headed out. I wanted to slip some serious ex-lax into their drinks.
I bundled Cady into my station wagon and slid behind the wheel. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror at my girl. She just stared at her hands, not saying a word. The sight had tears burning the backs of my eyes. The only time she was ever this quiet was when she was sick.