Page 38 of Branded Souls (Ember Hollow Romance #3)

Fox

I t had been hours.

Hours of silence. Hours of looking. Hours of trying not to completely freak out over the fact that I had no idea where Skye was.

A cold knot formed in my chest as morning started to fade toward afternoon. August was busy with some work for Emersyn’s podcast. It had taken everything in me not to demand he drop everything and help me find her.

Rationally, I had no reason to panic. Not yet. August and the rest of my brothers had already done so much for me. I could wait a little longer and hope I found her on my own.

If she wanted to be found.

Part of me was terrified that she had run again. That everything we shared last night was just another moment she’d tuck away and walk out on .

I hit my turn signal hard, turning onto Center Street. I’d driven around the entirety of town three times already, searching for any glimpse of her car. I hadn’t found it.

My phone rang, making my heart leap. I glanced at the number that popped up on the dashboard screen. Whize. I hit the button on my steering wheel to connect the call.

“Thanks for calling me back,” I said curtly. The detective was one of the calls I’d made when no one else had heard from Skye.

“No problem. Sorry I missed your call. What’s up?”

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. “I haven’t been able to contact Skye for a couple hours and was wondering if you had heard from her today?”

There was a long pause, longer than I’d like. “I actually saw her this morning.”

My pulse spiked, both relief and dread hitting me at the same time. “You did? Is she okay?”

What sounded like papers shifted in the background. “I think so. I finally got access to the Jane Doe evidence box.”

I slowed my vehicle, drifting to the side of the road where I slipped into a parking spot in front of some of the downtown shops.

Throwing the SUV in park, I stared out the windshield at nothing in particular. “Skye saw the evidence from Jane Doe’s case?”

More rustling of papers, what sounded like a desk phone ringing. “Sorry. I’ve been pretty busy here today. But yeah, she saw the evidence. She didn’t recognize anything. Said that it wasn’t her mother.”

My stomach twisted. “Damn.” I shook my head. “How did she take it?”

“She was…quiet. She left pretty quickly after. ”

I ground my back teeth together, all the information sinking in. So she hadn’t run away from me. At least, I didn’t think that’s what happened here.

“What time did you meet with her?”

Whize sighed. “Around six this morning.”

Anxiety reverberated through my body. It had been longer than I thought since she’d last been seen.

“Thank you for the information.” I hung up before Whize said anything else. Shifting back into drive, I pulled onto the road.

There was one more place I needed to check.

The Adler house.

I’d been so focused on the obvious places, the public ones, but if she was hurting, she might not want to be seen at all. If this was all about Jane Doe not being her mother, she might have sought comfort in the one other person who truly understood.

I braked hard as the house came into view. Gravel crunched under the tires as I pulled into the driveway. I tried not to get too discouraged by the lack of her car anywhere to be seen. Even if she wasn’t here, maybe Ash would know where she was.

He also hadn’t been answering my calls, and when I contacted the shop where he worked, they’d said he called out sick for the day. Either he was rotting in bed with some illness, or he was comforting his sister.

I hoped it was the latter.

The curtains were drawn over the front windows, but a faint glow bled from around the edges from somewhere in the house.

I killed the engine and stepped out. The wind stirred the trees as I walked up the front steps. I hesitated at the door, listening for a moment .

It was quiet.

I knocked.

At first, I wasn’t sure anyone was home. But after a couple more knocks, the door finally opened.

Ash stood in the doorway, looking a little disheveled—hair mussed, long-sleeved shirt unbuttoned. Yet his face was completely calm.

He blinked at me, clearly surprised. “Fox.”

I glanced behind him into the house. I didn’t see any sign of her. Didn’t hear anyone else. When I looked back at him, I raised a brow. “You don’t work today?”

“Nope. Haven’t been feeling well since last night.” He shrugged. “Called off.”

That could be why he looked like shit.

I let out a sharp breath. “Have you seen Skye this morning?”

“Skye?” He shook his head. “No. Not today.”

Damn it. Disappointment crushed my chest.

“She’s not answering her phone,” I continued. “I’m getting worried.”

Ash’s frown sharpened. “How long has it been since you’ve heard from her?”

Whize had seen her early this morning and it was getting close to noon now.

“Awhile.”

He must have heard the seriousness in my tone because his expression shifted. Hardened. He nodded slowly, as if processing. “That’s weird. My phone’s inside—maybe I can try her for you.” He stepped back and held the door open for me. “Come in.”

I hesitated. I wasn’t sure how helpful having him call her from his phone would be, but on the off chance that she was pointedly ignoring my calls in particular, I stepped inside.

I would try anything at this point.

It had been years since I’d set foot in the Adler home. The moment the door shut behind me, a flood of memories hit. The last time I’d been here was when I’d watched Skye pack her life away into a bag and leave.

I tried to ignore the vise grip anxiety had on my heart at the prospect that the same thing could’ve happened again. She could’ve left. She could’ve decided that last night had been a mistake…

I shoved a hand through my hair, forcing those thoughts away.

Logically, she couldn’t have left. All her things were still in her room at the bed-and-breakfast. She was still working on the documentary. She wouldn’t have given up on her work like that.

I followed Ash through the living room and into the kitchen. Everything looked normal. Lived in. Comfortable. The place had been spruced up since the last time I’d been here. It was almost nice now.

Ash paused a few paces into the kitchen. “What the hell?” he murmured to himself. He looked at the counter, then spun around, eyes darting around the space. “I swear I just had my phone in here.” He patted his pockets. “You don’t see it, do you?”

Frowning, I glanced around automatically, scanning the kitchen table, the counters, the windowsill. I didn’t see it.

“Maybe it’s in the living room?” I didn’t remember seeing it, but I hadn’t been looking.

I turned, already stepping back toward the room we’d walked through. I glanced at the coffee table, but saw nothing there but a mug .

Something overcame me, then. I wasn’t sure where the feeling came from, but something deep inside my gut called to me in warning. The hair on the back of my neck lifted. A slow trickle of dread slid down my spine.

Hurried footsteps behind me had me moving, reacting.

I spun as Ash lunged toward me, something glinting in his hand.

Instinct took over, and I threw my arm up to block the strike. The knife grazed my shoulder before I knocked his arm aside, pain ripping through me.

“What the hell, Ash?” I shouted, reeling back, almost losing my footing near the threshold into the living room.

His face twisted—rage, grief, and something I didn’t understand blazed in his eyes.

“If it wasn’t for you,” he spat, “she wouldn’t have left.”

He came at me again, the knife flashing.

I blocked him with my forearm, barely managing to keep the blade away from my side. It scraped across my jacket, the fabric ripping.

My heart thundered. “Ash—what the hell are you talking about?”

Adrenaline soaked my brain as I braced my legs and shoved him back with as much force as I could. He stumbled a step, the knife reeling in the air, but it didn’t stop him.

He lunged again. I twisted in time, grabbing his wrist and slamming his arm into the wall. He roared, but didn’t drop the knife as he staggered back from me. His chest heaved with heavy breaths, his skin breaking out in sweat.

I stepped back too, putting as much space between us as possible. Squaring my shoulders, I put my hands up in a defensive stance. In my periphery, I searched for anything I could use as a weapon, but I wouldn’t take my eyes off Ash fully.

“Ash,” I said, my own breathing wild and heavy. “What are you doing?”

Anger blazed within him as he righted himself. He pulled his shoulders back, lifted the knife like he was ready to attack at any moment.

A flash of our old life hit me, as if we were back in the fighting ring. Back when we beat up each other, and ourselves, for sport. Just to feel something.

Now, I was defenseless against an unhinged man with a knife.

How the hell had we gotten here?

“Skye left me because of you, Fox,” Ash said, quieter now, more broken. “She’s always been safest here, with me. I know what happened between the two of you. I know you got her pregnant. I know she almost died.”

The room spun. Vaguely, I was aware of a throbbing near my shoulder, of something hot and wet running down my arm, but the pain hadn’t fully set in yet. This didn’t make sense. I couldn’t reconcile the man in front of me with the Ash I’d known.

“You think I wanted her to leave?” My voice came rough, furious. “I begged her to stay. I loved her.” I sucked in a breath so deep my ribs ached. “I still love her.”

Ash’s face hardened into stone and steel. His muscles went taut, and I prepared myself for another attack.

“No.” He shook his head, a humorless laugh escaping him. “If you would’ve loved her, you wouldn’t have let her leave. You would have protected her. ”

A cold sweat broke across my skin as my stomach dropped through the floor. Something dawned on me, the way he said those words…

“Where is she?” I demanded, strong but controlled. No matter how much I was panicking, I needed to stay outwardly calm.