Page 19 of Splintered Memories (Ember Hollow Romance #2)
Emersyn
I froze, and sure enough, as if he had been summoned, Tristan Hawthorn materialized out of the crowd.
He was dressed casually for him, a pair of khaki slacks and a navy-blue, long-sleeved shirt.
He looked better than the last time I’d seen him, and he wasn’t alone.
My father smiled, and my blood chilled at the sight of the man walking beside him.
My gaze cut to my brother as the two men approached my booth. He gave me a sympathetic look, and then his features hardened as he glared at the man striding next to our father.
“I hear you’re the talk of the festival, Emersyn,” my father said, his hands tucked into his pockets as he surveyed my booth. “I hadn’t realized how popular your little podcast had become.”
I ignored my father and stared daggers at the man on his side.
The man seemed older than he had even a year ago.
His black hair was dull and sprinkled with gray.
The fine lines carving his face were deeper, his cheeks gaunt.
He was thinner, too, than I remembered. The former sheriff used to be all bulky muscles, and now he was thin and lean .
Noticing where my attention was, my father cleared his throat. “You remember my friend, Alex Cohen.” He nodded toward the man beside him.
Of course I knew him. He had been friends with my father for most of my life. The former mayor and the former sheriff—they were deeply embedded in the Ember Hollow community.
Lark stiffened beside me, and Alex’s eyes flicked toward her. His face remained neutral, but his body went taut.
I bared my teeth at Alex, who barely spared a glance my way.
“What are you doing with a man like that?” I spat at my father.
My father’s face paled at the vitriol in my voice. “Emersyn,” he hissed, scolding me. “That tone isn’t appropriate.”
I stepped closer to Lark. Her panic was palpable. “I think it’s more than appropriate for the man whose son killed your daughter, and then he helped cover it up.”
Alex Cohen sneered at me. My father’s jaw dropped. Yes, my father and Alex had been friends for a very long time, but I’d figured that had changed after Alex helped his son get away with my sister’s murder.
“I’d watch the kind of rumors you’re spreading,” Alex said, his deep voice calm and smooth. It didn’t match the rage flaring in his eyes. “Those are nothing but unsubstantiated accusations.”
Lark flinched beside me, and I grabbed her hand and squeezed. She was shaking.
Lark had been the one to tell the world about the monster who kidnapped her and tried to kill her. His son, Xander Cohen, had confessed everything to her. She’d been lucky to survive him.
I all but growled at the former sheriff. “Only because there hadn’t been enough physical evidence left to take you to trial and get a conviction. You used your position as sheriff to help your son get away with murder.”
Alex bristled.
My father hushed me sharply. “Stop, Emersyn.”
My eyes widened on my father. “I can’t believe you’re still talking to him. You know what Xander said to Lark. You know the truth.”
My father opened his mouth, but Alex cut him off. “No, we don’t know that, because my son is dead.” His eyes burned into Lark.
I positioned myself in front of her. “He’s dead because he tried to kill Lark, another defenseless woman.”
Alex’s lip curled. “Don’t speak about my son when he’s not here to defend himself. The Shadow Stalker was responsible for what happened to your sister.” Those dark eyes were sharp as black glass.
“You only made it look like that. You framed the Shadow Stalker for what Xander did, for what your son did,” I snarled.
“Lies,” Alex hissed. “And the way you so easily believe the word of one person and then spread that false information is what’s really concerning here.”
I…saw…red.