Page 2 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Skye

Present Day

I ’d faced down some of the worst crimes imaginable, confronted liars and dangerous secrets head-on—yet the simple act of driving into Ember Hollow made me want to turn the car around.

I hadn’t set foot in my hometown since I was still a teen. As barely an adult, I’d left small-town life behind me. I’d gone to college and earned my degree in journalism and digital media. I’d had so many dreams and had nothing to focus on but work and putting my all into my future.

Forcing my hands to relax their death grip on the steering wheel, I drove through the town at what felt like a snail’s pace.

Everything looked precisely as when I’d left, from the quaint, tree-lined streets to the cozy brick buildings.

It was unsettling, how normal everything felt—like Ember Hollow had been frozen in time, waiting patiently for my return .

But Ember Hollow wasn’t the same as it had been, no matter how it appeared from the outside. This town had been through a nightmare.

Which was exactly the reason I was back.

I pulled in a deep breath as I slid into a parking spot along the curb in front of the cute little coffee shop. The wooden sign of Latte Pages swung back and forth in the breeze, looking worn and a bit rusty where the metal hooks secured it to the eave.

Behind the large glass windows, the shop was bustling.

The cafe at the front had a long line at the counter and all the small tables looked full.

I pressed my lips together as I nervously ran a hand through my hair.

I’d recently gotten it cut short to my shoulders and I wasn’t sure whether I liked it as much as my long hair.

I flipped down the visor and studied my makeup in the mirror. It looked fine, though I grabbed for a lip oil and reapplied it anyway.

I was stalling.

As I returned the lip oil to my bag, I glanced at the coffee shop. I wondered whether the woman I was meeting was already there. I wasn’t late, but I wasn’t twenty minutes early like I usually would have been. Being back here…back in the place I had once called home, had me out of sorts.

Tearing my eyes away from the coffee shop, I glanced at myself one more time in the tiny visor mirror.

I can do this. This is for my job, nothing more.

I had done harder things, more intense things, than this in my career. This project was such a big opportunity for me. I couldn’t let my past ruin this.

When my boss had told me I was going to head my own true crime documentary project, I’d been elated, to say the least. I’ve hosted my own show on the Crime and Justice Network for five years now, but this was the first big project I’d been given to not only host, but help produce. It was my dream.

It wasn’t until I was told the documentary subject would be the Shadow Stalker that my excitement turned into pure anxiety.

Over a decade ago, this sleepy little town in the hills of southern Ohio became the hunting grounds of a serial killer.

The Shadow Stalker targeted college-aged women, abducting them and torturing them for days, or weeks, before murdering them.

He’d carve a butterfly into their skin, as his calling card, before dumping their bodies.

I massaged the back of my neck, rolling my shoulders. I hadn’t realized how much tension I was holding on the drive here. The Shadow Stalker case had gotten national media attention, and had even inspired a copycat killing in the area.

I clenched my jaw at that thought. Copycats were rare, adding an extra layer of intrigue to the case, but every time I thought of it, a rush of nausea swept over me. As much as I had been exposed to in my career, the Shadow Stalker case was a different beast.

It was personal. One of the victims was someone I had been close to.

I shook my head, dispelling thoughts of her…thoughts of—him. I couldn’t think about that right now.

I had to focus.

Before I fell deeper into old memories, I forced myself to get out of the car.

September was beginning, and the air held a hint of a chill as I swung my bag over my shoulder and straightened my spine. My kitten heels clacked on the pavement as I approached the coffee shop .

A bell chimed when I stepped inside the warm cafe. The rich smell of roasting coffee and sweet treats rushed over me, bringing some comfort and familiarity. I smoothed down my white blouse that had gotten wrinkled on the drive and gazed around the shop.

It didn’t take long to find her.

Emersyn Hawthorn’s bright-auburn hair caught my attention from a table in the far corner. She adjusted her glasses before taking a sip from an oversized mug. When her stare caught mine over the rim, I smiled.

I’d been communicating with Emersyn the past few weeks as I prepared the documentary for filming.

She was well-known throughout the true crime space, as she hosted a very popular podcast, Splintered True Crime .

She focused mostly on unsolved cases, and the Shadow Stalker was one of the most infamous ones.

At least, it had been, until earlier this year when he was finally apprehended…thanks to her.

The true crime podcaster had gotten much closer to the case than she ever intended and had been the one who brought the serial killer to justice.

Who better to interview than the woman who literally caught the Shadow Stalker?

Emersyn blinked as I approached her, recognition flaring in her eyes as she slowly lowered the mug. I shoved aside whatever apprehension and anxiousness I’d been grappling with and I offered her my hand.

“Hi,” I said, my tone warm and friendly. “I’m Skye Adler. It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

Emersyn glanced at my outstretched hand, seeming a little stunned. When her gaze flicked back to mine, though, she managed a nervous smile .

“Sorry.” She shook my hand quickly. “It’s not every day you meet someone from TV.”

I waved a hand dismissively. “Please, I’m fairly certain you have more viewers on your podcast than I do, and I have a whole network behind me.”

A faint blush bloomed on her cheeks. “I don’t know about that.” She gestured to the seat opposite her. “Please, sit with me.”

“Thank you.” I obliged, crossing my legs and placing my bag on my lap. “And it is true. I’m so impressed with your work. I’m honored you’ve agreed to meet with me and assist in this project.”

Her nervous smile melted into something more warm and genuine.

We fell surprisingly easily into comfortable conversation.

Despite the overwhelming feelings this case—and this project—brought up for me, I had been genuinely excited to meet Emersyn.

The fact that we were both clicking, meeting face-to-face for the first time, had some confidence building in me.

“I was actually surprised when you told me you were from Ember Hollow.” Emersyn popped the last bite of chocolate croissant in her mouth. “I would’ve thought I’d recognize you. In a town this small, you’d think they’d have a framed picture of you at town hall.”

I paused, taking a slow sip of my drink. We had been talking for so long that my cappuccino started to get cold. “Yes, well,” I shifted in the hard chair, “I kept to myself a lot growing up, and I left town immediately after high school. Not a whole lot of people knew me.” I shrugged.

Her lips pulled down, brow wrinkling. “Your last name is Adler, right? ”

I nodded stiffly. That’s how it worked in small towns—your last name told people everything they thought they needed to know. It was how they placed you, how they decided who you were based on who your family was.

In many ways, it was a definition. A legacy.

And I wanted nothing to do with mine.

“Adler…” she murmured under her breath, looking away as she did her best to try to place me in her mind.

My stomach dropped when it seemed to hit her.

Her eyes snapped to mine. “Are you related to Charles Adler? The police officer?”

I tensed, though I tried to leave my face emotionless. “I am…he’s my father.”

There must have been something in the way my tone shifted that made Emersyn pause. Her eyes held mine for a beat, and I recognized something in her stare…something familiar. A deep ache that called to my own pain.

She didn’t ask me more about my family. About where I belonged. Instead, she changed the subject entirely. “Tell me more about how you ended up on TV.”

I let out a slow, relieved breath.

My career started out like any other, interning with local news outlets and gaining experience after I graduated with my degree.

Eventually, I became a field reporter specializing in investigative work. It wasn’t until a local case that my career truly started to kick off. A couple had vanished after authorities questioned them about the suspicious disappearance of their two children .

After receiving an anonymous tip, I found the couple when they fled to a remote, isolated town in the mountains. I filmed a tense, now-famous interaction that went viral, catapulting the story into national news coverage.

The children’s bodies were found shortly after that, and my life was never the same.

Because of that viral clip, I received offers to work with major networks.

Emersyn stared at me, wide-eyed after I finished my origin story.

“Now that you say it, I remember that clip.” She nodded, staring off to the side, as if she were rewatching the memory play in her mind. “Did you ever figure out who the tip was from?”

I shook my head. “No. And I’m not just saying that to protect a source. I have no idea who it was or how they knew where to find them.”

“That case was wild, and so, so sad.” Her stare sharpened. “At least they caught those two. They were sick.”

I grimaced at the memory. I would never forget the look the couple had given me when I’d questioned them. They’d been livid, insisting that the children were in a safe place. But I’d seen the dishonesty in their expressions. The utter guilt.

“I couldn’t let them get away with it,” I muttered. “I wouldn’t have shut up about them, even if the police hadn’t taken a renewed interest in the case.”

I was known to be…a bit stubborn. Growing up, it had gotten me in all sorts of trouble, but even my father couldn’t beat that trait out of me. Not entirely .

Emersyn nodded and opened her mouth as if she were going to comment, when her phone went off. She reached for it, mumbling an apology as she checked the screen.

She sucked in her bottom lip as she typed something. “I’m sorry.” She glanced back up at me. “But I didn’t realize how much time had passed already.”

My heart sank. “Do you have to leave?” We hadn’t even begun to speak about the documentary yet, somehow. I was truly hoping I could hire her in to help me with the project.

She looked at her phone. “Well, not exactly. Would you be opposed to my boyfriend joining us? I was supposed to meet him here after our meeting and…he’s already on his way, apparently.”

I sighed with relief. “Oh, that would probably be fine…”

I hesitated, thinking better of it. I wanted to keep the documentary about the Shadow Stalker on the down-low, for now. I wasn’t sure how the locals would take the information. The wound was still fresh, the man only recently arrested for the crimes he’d gone years getting away with.

“If you don’t mind me asking, who’s your boyfriend?” It was probably a good idea to know who was about to crash our meeting before I decided to let the town know my business.

A slow, sweet smile spread across her face. Her cheeks heated as she said his name, like he was the most delightful thing in the world.

“August Ramsey.”

Panic shot straight through my heart. I gaped at her, trying to convince myself that I hadn’t heard her right.

Ramsey .

No .

The name brought flashes from the past, springing up from memories I’d long shoved down and repressed. My breath hitched.

“Skye?”

Emersyn’s voice sounded far away through the blood rushing in my ears.

I forced myself to focus. “I’m—I’m sorry,” I said, breathless and shaken. “Did you say August Ramsey was your boyfriend?”

Emersyn looked extremely concerned and confused. She fiddled with her cat-eyed glasses. “Yeah, do you…do you know him?”

My eyes shot down to her phone and back to her. “August Ramsey is coming here? Right now?”

Emersyn reached over across the table, like she was going to grab my hands, but I pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I jumped up from the table. The panic was tangible now, digging its cold claws into my heart.

Agreeing to come back to Ember Hollow, to making this documentary, was almost a guarantee that I would see him again. But I hadn’t been prepared for that today. Not right now.

August wasn’t the Ramsey brother I had fallen in love with, but he was the closest thing to him. His twin .

I backed away from Emersyn’s table. “I just remembered I’m late for…something,” I stammered, taking steps backward as I spoke. “We will have to—talk soon, okay?”

I didn’t wait for her reply before I spun around, clutching my bag to my hammering heart, and all but sprinted toward the door.

No matter what, I was not prepared to see Fox Ramsey’s gray eyes…even if they were reflected in his twin brother’s.

Like the coward I’d always been, I ran away.