Swallowing, I knocked lightly. There was no answer.
I turned the knob and eased the door open a fraction. The space wasn’t at all what I expected. Instead of bright colors and loud prints, it was muted pinks and grays with a hint of gold here and there.
Stepping inside, I took Aspen in. She was already burrowed under the covers, but she wasn’t asleep. She just stared up at the ceiling.
I crossed the distance between us and lowered myself to the bed. “Can I get you anything?”
She shook her head.
I bit the inside of my cheek, searching for something to say. I wasn’t good with words. Always said the wrong thing. But I couldn’t leave Aspen alone in her head either.
“There’s no glitter.”
Aspen’s gaze shifted to find me. “Huh?”
“Your bedroom. There’s no glitter. You usually have it somewhere. A hair tie or headband. The stars on your coat. Shimmer in a sweater.”
Her lips curved. “Cady hasn’t infiltrated my décor in here.”
“You’re an amazing mom.”
Aspen swallowed hard. “I didn’t protect her from this.”
I took her hand, squeezing. “That’s not on you. It’s on those bloodsucking vultures.”
“I’m scared she’ll somehow hear that it was her dad who hurt her mom.”
“We’re going to do everything we can to make sure that doesn’t happen. I’ll have Law call the school and talk to the principal.”
Aspen nodded, her eyes drooping. “Thank you.”
“Get some sleep. I’ll get you something to eat when you wake up.”
“Okay…” But she was already dropping off before she could finish her sentence.
I didn’t move right away. Couldn’t. I just watched Aspen breathe. Let a little of the feral energy coursing through me ease with the even inhales and exhales.
But the worst of the darkness still swirled inside me. Worry and fear surged and fed it. Terror that I could lose this woman who’d come to mean everything.
I leaned back on the porch swing as I stared out at the pastures. How often had I watched Aspen and Cady move around their property, feeding the animals, grooming them, playing with them? I’d thought for sure there was no way the joy on their faces could be real.
Now, I knew it was. But more than that, I knew it was there despite everything they’d been through—loss and betrayal and pain.
One of the donkeys kicked out as the other got too close. A goat sharing the field didn’t take too kindly to that and charged donkey number one—the one Cady called Mabel.
I shook my head and glanced at my watch. Aspen had been asleep for over five hours. I’d checked on her three times, watching her chest rise and fall to ensure she was all right. But even telling myself over and over that she was fine didn’t help.
I forced my gaze back to the fields, trying to find some of the peace I used to get watching Aspen and her animals. But too many demons circled to find true relief.
The door behind me squeaked, and I looked up to see Aspen shuffling out in oversized sweats. She frowned at me. “It’s freezing out here.”
I shrugged. “I like watching the animals.” My gaze swept over her face. “How do you feel?”
“A lot better. Sorry I freaked out on you.”
“You didn’t.”
“I went all…” Aspen lifted her hands above her head and made circular motions.
“You’ve been through a lot.”
She studied me for a moment. “Are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Aspen closed the distance between us and lowered herself to the swing. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe because you look like you want to tear someone’s head off.”
My back teeth ground together. “I hate that these jackholes are putting you through this. Hate that they’re putting you at risk.”
Just voicing it had fear clawing at my insides.
Her hand covered mine. “It’s freeing in a way.”
“Freeing?”
She nodded, looking out at the pasture. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m scared. I think part of me always will be. But I’ve been hiding for so long, worried about people finding out who I really am. Now, they know. It’s all out in the open.”
“You don’t have to hide anymore,” I surmised.
“No. I’ll still have to be careful and figure out ways to shield Cady as much as possible. But I’m ready to stand my ground. We’ve built a beautiful life here, and I’ll fight for that.”
Seeing a bit of her fire and strength reemerge soothed something in me, but the terror still ate away at my insides. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Why don’t you look like you believe that?”
I cursed the fact that Aspen was always so damned perceptive. “I do.”
She was quiet for a moment and then gripped my hand tighter. “Grae told me what happened when you were younger. That you were a suspect in Wren’s attack. That people in Cedar Ridge turned against you. This has to bring a little of that back. If you want to talk about—”
“I don’t,” I snapped.
Aspen stilled but didn’t let go of my hand, didn’t let my temper or scowl scare her off the way it did with others. “If you don’t talk to me, talk to someone. Don’t let it take you under.”
Pressure built down deep. So much of it, it felt like I might combust. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I felt her stare boring into my face, carrying a million silent questions with it.
“Got jumped when it all went down.”
Aspen’s hand spasmed around mine. “Grae didn’t say anything about that.”
“She doesn’t know.”
“Because she was younger when it happened?”
I shook my head, keeping my gaze on the animals in the pasture. “None of my family knows.”
Aspen sucked in a sharp breath. “Why?”
“They had enough going on. Holt and Grae were a wreck with Wren in the hospital. Nash felt guilty as hell because he’d made Holt late on his way to meet Wren. Lawson was new on the force. My parents were just trying to keep us all afloat.”
“But how could you cover up something like that?” she whispered.
I shrugged. “Told the doctor and them I’d fallen off my mountain bike. Doctor didn’t believe me, but I was over eighteen. He couldn’t do a damned thing.”
“You were alone in it.”
I turned at that, searching Aspen’s gorgeous face. “The same way you were.”
She threaded her fingers through mine. “You never reported it?”
“I couldn’t see who it was. They got me from behind on my way home. I had a house in town back then. One of them hit me so hard on the head I blacked out. Think that’s what saved me. Not any fun to beat on someone who’s unconscious.”
Aspen paled. “Roan…”
“I was fine. Concussion. A few broken ribs, broken arm. Eye swollen shut. Black and blue.”
Her fingers tightened their hold. “But you had to live not knowing who hurt you. The cops got the guys who hurt me when that reporter leaked where I worked. They got some serious jail time. You haven’t had any closure. That has to be terrifying.”
My jaw worked back and forth. “I’m careful. I watch my back. I’m good.”
“You aren’t good. You’ve completely isolated yourself from the rest of the world.”