The American Ballet Theatre was her dream. And I wanted my girl to have all her dreams, even if it meant losing her to the other side of the country. But this envelope? I worried it was about to dash all those hopes.
Roan squeezed my shoulder. “Let’s just see what it says before we borrow trouble. Where is she?”
“Where do you think?” I asked.
Cady processed everything through dance. The good and the bad. But it was especially her outlet during times of anxiety. When we’d told her the whole truth about John, she’d locked herself in the studio for weeks until she had a hold of the feelings she needed to talk about. She did the same when we lost Chauncey. When she’d fallen in love. When she’d suffered her first heartbreak. And knowing that she should be hearing back about her audition for the company at ABT had her pretty much dancing around the clock.
Roan’s lips twitched, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “Come on,” he said, plucking the envelope from my fingers and guiding me toward the stairs. “Don’t burn down the house,” he called to the boys.
“If you chill Mom out, we’ll be angels,” Max yelled back.
Roan chuckled. “Holding you to that.”
We descended the staircase to an area Roan had built just for Cady. I couldn’t help but take in the space as we stepped into the room. One wall was entirely mirrored with a ballet bar across it. The opposite wall was all windows with a view of Cedar Ridge. It was magical, and Cady had wept when she saw it.
Just like I’d wept when he told me he’d covered the repairs on my car all those years ago and when he surprised me by buying The Brew for me. Roan loved to spoil his girls.
Classical music filtered out through speakers as Cady spun across the floor. I might never know the name of each move, but I knew that Cady made me feel with each bend, twist, and leap.
As she twirled again, she stopped right in front of us, grinning and breathing heavily. “Hey. Is it dinnertime already?”
“No,” I began. “I…I mean your dad…I mean we—”
Roan squeezed my shoulder and handed the envelope to Cady. “This was in the mail.”
She took it slowly, staring at the return address. “It’s thin,” she whispered.
Roan ducked his head so he could meet Cady’s eyes. “Tiny Dancer, no matter what’s in that envelope, you are incredible. You’ve achieved more than most people could ever dream of. But you also found what you love. What lights you up. Nothing and no one can take that away from you. You’ll shine that light wherever you end up.”
Cady’s eyes glistened, and she threw her arms around Roan. “I love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too. Know you’re going to do great things.”
As she pulled back, she held his eyes. “Thank you for always believing me. For spending a summer in New York, even though you hate big cities. For always having my back. For being my dad when you didn’t have to be.”
Tears pooled in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks.
Roan cleared his throat, his eyes glistening. “Greatest privilege of my life, you choosing me to be your dad.”
Oh, God. The gift of these two was more than I’d ever be able to repay.
“Open it,” Roan said softly.
Cady took a deep breath and tore into the envelope. She pulled out the paper and unfolded it. Her eyes scanned back and forth and then shot to us. “I’m in.”
Roan hooted, hauling her back into his arms. I burst into more tears. Roan pulled me in, too. “My girls.”
I just cried harder, which only made Cady laugh.
“You really got her going this time,” she said with a smile.
Roan hugged us both tightly and then brushed his lips against mine. “My Tender Heart.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“For what?”
“For giving us everything,” I said, the words barely audible.
“It’s you,” Roan uttered, his voice low. “You’re the light in the shadows. Always have been. Always will be.”
Want to find out who can give Lawson the happily ever after he deserves? Find out in Ashes of You, book five in The Lost & Found Series, available for purchase by TAPPING HERE or read on for a sneak peek!
Want more of Roan and Aspen? Get an exclusive bonus scene by TAPPING HERE.
PLEASE ENJOY THIS EXTENDED PREVIEW OF ASHES OF YOU
PROLOGUE
HALSTON
FIVE YEARS AGO
“Keep moving. Keep moving. Keep moving.”
I said the words over and over, even though they were barely audible anymore. They’d become my mantra. The steady beat forced me forward, even if the howling wind swallowed the words, and my lips barely moved.
My teeth chattered violently as I struggled to get my legs to continue their motion. The fresh cuts on my stomach stung as the wind whipped against the thin sheath I wore. I wanted to tear it from my body and rip away everything that he had tainted.
I squinted into the night, trying to see through the thick trees and falling snow to…anything.
A whimper escaped my lips as my bare foot hit an especially sharp rock. I’d thought my limbs had lost feeling in the freezing snow, but I was wrong.
I told myself that was good. It meant they weren’t frostbitten—yet.
I glanced over my shoulder at the night behind me. I didn’t hear him. Not anymore. At first, he’d screamed my name into the night, but then he’d gone quiet.
Quiet was always worse. I’d learned that on day four. But then twenty-nine days followed. Days where I was sure I’d die in that damp, dark cave. Days where I sometimes wished I had.
“Keep moving.”
I clenched my fists as my body trembled, pressing my fingernails into my palms and hoping the pain would spur me on. My nails were long now with nothing to cut them with. But I’d gotten used to pain, had a higher tolerance for it, and my nails cutting into my flesh did nothing.
My stomach cramped in a vicious twist. My joints felt stiff, like the Tin Man in that movie. What was it called?
A wave of dizziness swept over me, followed by a surge of heat. I suddenly felt like I was sweating, burning up from the inside out. The urge to pull the flimsy shift from my body was so strong.
Everything hurt, from the tips of my toes to the ends of my hair. My flesh felt as though it were cracking open.
I stumbled, falling to my knees. The chill of the snow was bliss on my overheated flesh. I let myself topple and roll to my back. Blessed snow. The cold seeped into my skin, soothing.
A voice lifted on the wind. I thought I heard my name.
Tears leaked from my eyes. It was him. He’d found me.
I needed to get up. Run. Fight.
But I couldn’t. Maybe I’d be lucky, and he’d finally kill me.
Movement swam above me—a figure.
“Halston?”
The voice was deep with grit, as though sandpaper coated it. But there was also something comforting about it; it had a gentleness. It wasn’t like the man’s.
“Holy hell,” another voice rumbled. “Is she wearing a nightgown? It’s nine degrees.”
“Call it in,” the voice above me snapped.