Whispers of You (Lost & Found, #1)

by Catherine Cowles

If Holt were here right now, he’d probably press his lips to the top of my head and tell me to breathe.

As if I’d conjured him with my thoughts alone, my phone rang on the counter—a tone that was only his. It wasn’t as if I needed a special one for Holt. I could count on one hand the number of people who called me on a regular basis.

The photo that flashed on the screen was my favorite—Holt’s arms wrapped around me, his lips pressed to my temple, and his deep blue eyes shining. The cheesy grin on my face said it all: My happiest place was always in his arms.

Holt’s chuckle skated across the line. It was deeper than it had been when we’d gotten together two years ago. A sound that sent a pleasant shiver skating across my skin.

“I think I’m good. Just need you.” “That’s the way it’ll always be.”

“As harmless as a two-by-four to the head,” Holt grumbled. “I’d better go help him, or I’ll never get to my girl.” That warmth was back. Spreading. Sinking deep into the places that were only his.

I couldn’t begrudge him any of it because his reasons were always so good. He was so good. That was Holt. Easily distracted but with the best heart. And I’d love that heart until the day I died.

There was little I loved more than my nickname slipping from his lips.

When Holt had snuck up on me, I’d let out the most pitiful chirping noise—not even a scream or a shriek. He’d pulled me into a hug, his warm, strong body cocooning mine, and said, “Don’t worry, Cricket. I’ll scare the ghosts away.”

There was no place I felt more at peace than with Holt by my side.

“Lover boy isn’t here to protect you now, is he?” Oh, God. Holt. My mind warred with itself. Part of me wanted him here to rescue me from this nightmare. But another part wanted him as far away from this house as possible.

Faint footsteps sounded downstairs, and relief and fear warred inside me. Holt or the police? Holt would’ve rung the bell. It was the police. It had to be.

Laughing as I sailed through the air after Holt threw me into the lake. The buzz beneath my skin the first time his lips touched mine. Holt holding me tightly as I let the tears flow when my parents had forgotten my birthday. Again. Planning that big, beautiful future that would be ours. All my best moments had been with Holt. But I hadn’t had nearly enough.

I wanted to sink into that coldness to escape the heat. But most of all, I wanted Holt.

How many times had I made Holt sit with me past the sunset so that I could watch nighttime take hold? So the sky could soothe my soul.

I almost felt Holt’s lips pressed to my temple. “I’ll watch every twilight with you. Every moonrise, too.”

I tried to get my brain to place that voice. But I couldn’t quite… “Don’t worry, Cricket. I’ll scare the ghosts away.”

But I would’ve given anything to feel his arms around me one more time.

No chance of seeing familiar faces other than my family. No risk of seeing her.

The feel of her thready pulse beneath my fingers. My palms desperately trying to shove life back into her chest.

“Have you seen her yet?” A phantom fist gave my heart a vicious squeeze. “Who?” Jack sighed. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe the girl you won’t shut up about every time you drink a little too much whiskey.”

Anniversaries—the good and the bad. Birthdays—hers and mine. The time Grae had thought she was helping by telling me all about the amazing guy Wren was dating. Just thinking her name lit a fire in my gut. The burn was a mixture of good and bad. Desire and destruction. Love and a soul-shredding guilt.

“It isn’t words she needs from me.” It was atonement. But I couldn’t give Wren anything that would heal the wounds I’d caused for not being there during the one moment she’d needed me the most.

No one did—to hold the girl you loved more than anything as the life bled from her body.

Just a couple of blocks left. But they were brutal ones. Wildfire Pizza, where I’d taken Wren on our first date. Cones, where she and Grae always begged me to stop on the way home from school.

His voice was the same as it had always been, that even tone with just a bit of grit that had seen me through what I’d thought were my darkest moments. And he’d never given up on me. He’d gotten me help as soon as he could and had given me a sense of purpose that I’d desperately needed when my world had crumbled around me.

On a night we’d all seen the face of evil, her younger brother had died, and I hadn’t. My wounds should’ve meant me being in the ground, too, but something had kept me holding on. Not something. Holt.

Holt didn’t exist for me. I knew his family talked to him. Saw him, even. But they never mentioned his name in my presence. Until today.

breath. I knew what he’d done when he left Cedar Ridge. He’d gone into the military. Then private security. Throwing himself into one risky situation after another, and all of them as far from home as he could get.

Even though I hadn’t seen Holt in nine years and seven months, I still knew that he was here. On this Earth. Breathing. I’d have known if he weren’t. Some part of my soul would’ve registered it.

My pulse beat harder in my neck, the rapid rhythm of trying to fight off the memories. The sticky feeling of her blood between my fingers. Her fading heartbeat. The knowledge that I’d failed her. She’d almost died because of me. Because I’d let Nash distract me. I might as well have been holding the gun myself.

There were times I thought my life had ended the day I almost lost Wren.

When I’d bailed on Cedar Ridge, I’d bailed on everyone. It had felt like the only way to keep from drowning was to pretend that I was an entirely different person—without friends or family I talked to more than once a week. Without her.

Giving each other a hard time. I had it with the guys on my team, but they didn’t know me as well. Because the truth was, I hadn’t let a single soul in since that night ten years ago.

I couldn’t handle seeing those hazel eyes. The way the flecks of green blazed like emeralds in the sun when she laughed. Or was mad. Or when I kissed her.

into my side. She felt right there. As if it was where she always belonged.

My hand cupped her cheek, lifting her face so I could stare into her eyes. My thumb swiped at the fresh tears that had started to spill. “You’re worthy, Cricket. Beyond worthy.” Those hazel eyes sparked as Wren’s breath hitched. “You’re the most amazing, kind, beautiful person I’ve ever known. If they can’t see that, then it’s their loss.”

Some invisible force pulled me in, closer than I’d ever dared. I stopped just shy of those bee-stung lips. But Wren closed the distance and made that final leap. When she made contact, the flavor of her mint lip balm bursting on my tongue, I knew I’d never be the same.

I didn’t need thoughts of those eyes dancing in my head or her taste on my tongue. They already haunted my nightmares. I didn’t need them taunting my days, too.

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if Wren had changed. Did her laugh still have that husky edge? Did her nose crinkle when she smiled? I shoved that down and started for the front door.

It was bad enough that I measured every guy I ever went on a date with against Holt. A mental tally that always left the new guy coming up short. But now he was invading my physical space, too?

He didn’t show up around town, and I didn’t drunkenly call him, begging to know why he’d left. At least that was the agreement in my mind. And now that was all shot to hell.

“He’s back.” Chris stiffened. I felt the shift in the air as his muscles tensed, but it took him a moment to speak. “I know.”

“Ran into him outside the B&B. I think he’s staying there.” My stomach twisted like someone wringing water out of a towel. Way too close. I’d thought for sure he’d stay with Lawson or Nash. Maybe in the cabin. But less than a block from where I worked every day? That felt like a slap in the face.

We had all been hurt when he took off. It was almost worse that he’d stuck around all through my rehab after the shooting. That he’d held my hand as I regained enough strength to move my body again. It was as if he’d built me back up only to level the death blow.

There was no denying that he was handsome. He had dark brown hair, expertly cut and styled, but it didn’t swoop down over his forehead the way Holt’s did. And my fingers didn’t itch to run through the strands.

Not to remember how Holt’s smile pulled to one side a little more than the other. The way he ran his thumb under his bottom lip when he was thinking hard about something. How his blue eyes went soft when he told me he loved me.

I loved dreaming about the future with Holt, all the endless possibilities of what our life could be. “That sounds perfect. I only have one requirement.”

“I know what I like. Is that so bad?” Holt brushed the hair out of my eyes and tipped my face up to meet his. “Not if I’m one of those things.” My stomach dipped and rolled, three little words playing on my tongue, begging to be set free. “I like you, Holt Hartley.”

His eyes sparked with intensity. “I love you, Cricket. With everything I have.” Everything in me soared. “I love you, too. I always have.” He grinned, the devastating kind that always took me out at the knees. “We’re gonna have a beautiful life.” He said it with such certainty that I believed every word.