Page 12 of Splintered Memories (Ember Hollow Romance #2)

I touched the end of my braid, curling the tuft of hair around my finger, trying not to think about how nice it would be to have someone so worried about me when I was sick. Someone who would drop everything and rush right to my side.

Shaking my head, I sat up straighter in the chair. Those were silly thoughts not even worth entertaining. I was about to take another sip of my drink when a familiar voice sounded behind me, making my heart stop.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that my little Emy-Su?”

I whipped my head around so fast, my neck literally cracked.

The man standing behind my chair had his hands tucked into the pockets of his tan dress pants.

His hair had more silver in it than I remembered, but that smile was the same.

Warm and bright and surrounded by a good amount of salt-and-pepper scruff.

“Amos?” I breathed, stunned and not totally convinced I wasn’t hallucinating. It had been so long since I’d seen him in person.

His grin widened. “Long time, no see, huh?”

I blinked again, the reality sinking in as my mouth curled into a broad smile. “Oh, my God.” I set my coffee on the small table in front of my chair and hopped up. “Uncle Amos!”

I was flying toward him in the next breath. He held his arms out to catch me as I slammed into him, wrapping my arms around his neck in a tight hug .

He smelled like spicy aftershave and roasted coffee—one of the only scents from my childhood that made me feel safe, and tears threatened to well in my eyes at the sudden appearance of him.

His arms were strong as he hugged me to his chest. “It’s so good to see you.” His voice sounded thick when he spoke.

I didn’t want to let him go, but I had questions. After another long moment, I forced myself to pull away, settling back down on my heels.

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Amos’s brows rose as he rubbed a palm over the stubble on his chin. “Well, I do own the place…”

I rolled my eyes at the humored glint in his eye. Yes, Amos Anderson was the owner of Latte Pages, but he hadn’t been back in town for years. His managers ran the place, and he did everything he needed to remotely.

I pursed my lips. “When did you get back from your mission? Did I know you were coming home?”

Amos had long been an involved member of the local church, and he’d been on extensive mission trips for the better part of a decade.

“I, uh, got back recently.”

Something in the way that he shifted on his feet had my eyes narrowing.

“Is there a reason why you came back so suddenly?”

Last time he was home, I’d been expecting him. I had been excited about it for weeks.

A muscle in his cheek tightened. “I got a call from your dad…”

My stomach sank.

Amos and my father were half-brothers. They shared the same mom but had different fathers.

My grandfather had basically raised Amos, though.

He and my father were the beneficiaries of the family business that my grandfather built from the ground up.

The business, specializing in seed handling, tillage, and farm equipment, had been worth millions when they sold it. Now they were both well off.

But Amos and my father had never totally gotten along.

They didn’t fight, but they weren’t exactly friends.

Growing up, it was Amos who saw the toil us kids went through with our mother.

It was Amos who would offer to take us on weekends for the fun of it and give all three of us a break from our home life.

Amos was the only family I trusted, besides my brother.

I let out a long breath. “What did Dad tell you?”

Amos’s dark eyes sharpened. “Enough. I’m pissed as hell I had to hear it from him and not from you, though.”

The hurt in his tone made me flinch.

“Someone shot at you, Emy. You didn’t think I’d want to know about it?”

His eyes were wide with both irritation and a fierce protectiveness. Maybe it verged on the point of anger.

“I’m—sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

He stared at me, taking me in from head to toe. Then, his expression softened, just a tad. “I wish you would’ve told me. I could’ve been here sooner.”

“I would’ve never expected you to come home.” I shook my head. “I’m fine.”

He gave me a sidelong look. “Except that someone wanted to harm you. That’s not exactly the definition of fine, Emy. I’m glad I know. I want to help watch out for you. ”

Something blossomed in my chest. I wasn’t sure why it was so different when it was Amos wanting to look out for me instead of my father. Maybe it was because Tristan Hawthorn hadn’t earned the trust he thought was his by birthright.

I looked up into my uncle’s face. “How long are you planning on staying?”

He curled his hand over my shoulder. “Why? You want to get rid of me already?” A smile played on his lips.

I rolled my eyes and shoved his hand away playfully. “You know that’s not true.”

He grinned again. “I’ll be here for a while. Might be looking to settle back down.”

“Really?” I tried not to let the excitement swelling in my chest get the better of me.

He nodded. “It’s been awhile since I’ve had roots, and I’m getting old. It might be good for me.”

I chuckled. “I mean, you’re not wrong about that. You are old.” I squinted at his hair. “I’m pretty sure you got more gray in there than brown now.”

He shoved a hand through his hair with a smirk. “That’s all right—the ladies love a silver fox.”

I rolled my eyes again but couldn’t erase the smile from my face. “It would be great, if you decided to stay.” If Amos was here, he could help me look out for Jake. My brother deserved all the support he was offered. An invisible weight on my shoulders eased.

Amos gave me another smile, warm and steady. “I think so too.” He reached for my shoulder again, fingers tightening reassuringly.

My insides clenched. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him.

Amos had left for missions shortly after Delainey had died.

Losing my sister and the only adult in my life who I trusted all at once had been—hard.

I had been all on my own, with no one to lean on.

There was no one but myself to count on.

Then when Jake had gone off and smothered his grief with drugs, I’d been his support, too.

I took care of him, and myself, because there was no one else.

Amos let his hand drop. “We’ll have plenty of time to catch up, but I have some work I need to do.” He checked his watch. “I haven’t been here in person for a while and I have a meeting with the staff in a few minutes.”

I nodded, slightly disappointed he had to go already. “Oh, okay.”

“We should have dinner sometime soon, both you and your brother.”

My smile returned. “Definitely.”

“Take care of yourself, Emy-Su.”

He gave me a small wave and then headed toward the stairs back down into the cafe.

I turned, watching him go, feeling better about things. At least, I was, until someone stalked through the doors of the cafe, shoulders rigid and brows drawn low and tight over stormy gray eyes.

My heart hurled into overdrive at August Ramsey’s presence. I’d forgotten, for a moment, that I’d abandoned him—snuck away without a word.

He did not look pleased about it.

His eyes scanned the lower level of the coffee shop, and I turned, hurrying deeper into the stacks on the second level.

I wasn’t ready to face him. A spark of remorse hit in my chest, but it didn’t stop my feet as they headed for the back staircase.

It was hidden behind a door that claimed it was for “employees only,” but I ignored that sign as I pushed right through and took the stairs two at a time.

They led to the rear exit, and a spring breeze rustled the loose strands of hair around my face as I hurried outside.

Dumpsters and a small parking lot for employees stretched out before me.

I leaned against the rough brick wall of the building, letting my heart calm.

It was silly to run away like that. Eventually, he would find me. I couldn’t run from August—my freaking bodyguard —forever.

I told myself I didn’t care. I wanted to cling to whatever minutes of solitude I could.

Or perhaps I was just a coward.

With a sigh, I turned, walking toward the alley between Latte Pages and the bridal shop. My car was parked on Center Street. Maybe I’d hide in there for a while.

As I rounded the corner, entering the alley, I grimaced at the coffee shop, realizing I hadn’t gotten to finish my coffee. The buzz from the champagne was already gone and it wouldn’t be long until I could drive myself home.

My body reacted before my brain did.

My muscles stiffened as heavy footsteps met my ears.

I came to an abrupt stop. The footsteps came from behind me, and fast, gravel crunching underneath thick soles.

I didn’t have time to turn around before someone grabbed me, flinging me like a boneless puppet and slamming me face-first into the side of the building.

My cheek scraped against the bricks; fire laced across my ribs as a solid, strong body pinned me with an iron forearm locked across my shoulders and the base of my neck. It was impossible to move .

My pulse was an erratic pounding in my ears as I struggled against whoever held me. Panic swirled in my mind, a chaotic storm of incoherent thoughts and possibilities.

I tried to turn my head, to glimpse the assailant in my peripheral, but a hand gripped the hair at the back of my head and held it tight. My forehead ground into the unyielding wall, and I yelped as pain shot across my skin and scalp. The tip of my nose stung as it chafed against the rough brick.

I shivered as a hot, damp breath plumed at the base of my neck.

“You are going to stop what you’re doing,” a low, gritty voice whispered.

I screwed my eyes shut, trying to push away the blind panic. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said, disappointed that my voice sounded about as weak as I felt.

The body behind me shoved hard, my bones protesting as they were compressed so tight I couldn’t breathe.

“Delete your videos. All of them. You’re nothing but a liar spreading false gossip you can’t prove.”

“I’m not—”

He shoved against me again. It was a miracle my ribs didn’t crack. “You’ve been warned,” he said again. The voice was of a male, one I didn’t recognize. “Delete your videos or I won’t allow you to walk away next time.”

Before I could react, he jerked my head back, my spine protesting and my scalp screaming. He slammed my head hard into the side of the building with enough force to send sparks shooting across my vision.

I cried out. Pain burst across my forehead, ricocheting through my skull as the weight behind me disappeared. I was vaguely aware of those footsteps hurrying away, but I didn’t have the energy to look. The stabbing, throbbing pain made me close my eyes.

My knees buckled, and I collapsed onto the ground.