Page 9

Wren

Past

“ W here were you?”

The clipped words cause me to pause as I slip my purse onto the hook beside the front door.

I knew it was a risk going out tonight without telling him where I was going. I just assumed—or hoped—that he’d be at work.

“It was game night.” I turn and force a smile. He doesn’t seem happy, though.

“Didn’t want to invite me?” He arches a perfect brow, crossing his arms over his chest. His sleeves are starched and rolled, the collar of his button-down sharp.

“I thought you were workin’ tonight. I didn’t know you would be off in time to go with me...” I trail off nervously. “Besides, I know you don’t really like goin’. You don’t ? —”

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me!” he shouts, slamming his hand against the wall.

I flinch.

“You wanted to be with him without me there. Probably fucked him, didn’t you? Finally got him out of your system?” He takes a step closer.

“What?” I ask, confused, my voice trembling. “Who? No, it was just ? —”

The crystal vase from the coffee table crashes against the wall. Shards scatter, pink petals flying with them. Greg closes the space between us, with an outstretched finger in my face.

“I said don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Wren!” His raised voice startles me more. My heart beats rapidly in my chest, and I freeze in place. His hand reaches out, clamping around my wrist. I know he doesn’t mean to hold on so tightly, but the pain is starting to scare me.

“Greg, please. I was just ? —”

Ding!

The doorbell ringing floods my body with relief. The sound catches us both off guard, causing his grip to loosen. Taking advantage of the moment, I spin out of his hold to answer the door.

With a scoff, Greg walks away, the bathroom door slamming shut a moment later. Forcing a smile, I take a calming breath and open the front door.

“Hey!” My smile becomes genuine once I see the face on the other side.

He doesn’t speak at first, taking me in with a wary gaze. He tries to peer around me, but I step out the door and pull it partially shut behind me. The last thing I want is for him to see what was happening inside. The broken vase would be too difficult to explain a way around.

“What’s up?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

Carson hesitates. “You left this at your brother’s.” He extends his hand, offering me the light purple hoodie.

“Oh.” I reach out and take it from him. “Thanks,” I murmur just as a tear stings the corner of my eye.

I blink rapidly, willing the droplet away before Carson can notice it, since it would be a dead giveaway if I wiped at it.

“No problem…” He bites his cheek, taking another deep inhale. Like a hawk, his assessing gaze studies me. There’s no doubt he knows something isn’t quite right.

Should I say something to him? Ask him to take me away from this place, no questions asked?

A part of me thinks he would. The other part fears what he’d do if he truly knew.

It would kill me to see my friend pay the price for my mistakes.

There’s no doubt in my mind that he would react if he really knew.

While I fidget with the jacket in my hands, debating what to do, I peer up to see Carson’s eyes growing angry, his nostrils flaring with another deep breath.

Realizing my mistake, I glance behind me to see that the door has cracked farther open now that I’m no longer holding it close to me. The shattered vase lies in pieces on the floor, my favorite pink wren roses scattered around it.

“Wren.”

Just that single word from Carson’s lips conveys a million things. The most prominent being that he knows.

I don’t want a scene or any trouble for him, so I need to play this off the best I can.

“Oh, I’m clumsy. Ignore that,” I wave it off and offer a nervous laugh that I hope he doesn’t see through.

“Thanks for this.” I hold up the jacket I’m clutching in my hands and start to back my way inside the house.

Carson’s hard gaze zeros in on my red wrist holding the coat, causing my pulse to start racing again. “Well, I’ll see you ? —”

“Come with me. Right now.”

My eyes dart up to his stone-cold ones. I’ve known Carson for a long time, and I’ve never seen his sapphire-blue eyes look this dark, this angry. His hands clench into fists at his sides.

I shake my head. “What? No, it’s fine. I ? —”

“Wren, I’m not askin’. Come with me, or I come in there and kill him. Your choice,” he clips, leaving no room for argument. “Either way, you’re not gonna be alone with him.”

I should’ve known better than to try lying to him. I know I’m not good at it, but he grew up in a home with an abusive father. He’d recognize the signs from a mile away.

I think for only a second before reaching into the house and grabbing my purse from the hook.

Will this upset Greg and give me hell to pay tomorrow? Yes. But I don’t feel safe, and Carson is right; I need to leave.

My eyes stay on the ground as I pull the door shut behind me. “We have to hurry before he comes out here. I don’t want anyone gettin’ hurt because of me.”

He doesn’t respond. My hand is pulled into his, and I’m directed to the passenger side of his truck. He opens the door, and I climb in. The familiar, spicy scent of his cologne washes over me, instantly making me feel calmer. Safer.

Carson’s door slams shut. He doesn’t say a word as he starts the truck. Tires kick up gravel as he peels out of the driveway, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.

By the time we reach the end of the street, he still hasn’t said a word. His sharp, stubble-covered jaw is clenched tight.

It’s my fault that Greg will be mad, it’s my fault that Carson is upset, and it’s my fault that all of this happened in the first place.

“Carse, I’m sorry ? —”

“Don’t.” His voice is sharp but soft. His gaze cuts to me as he pulls away from the stop sign on the quiet road. “You have nothin’ to apologize for, Wren.”

Guilt surges through me anyway for putting him in this situation, bringing back memories I know he doesn’t like to think about.

I quickly lift my chin once and fidget with my hands in my lap. Tears well up in my eyes again, and I do my best to hold them back; the burn in my throat and the pinch in my nose are almost more than I can bear.

“How long has this been goin’ on?” he asks, never taking his eyes from the paved street.

I anxiously worry my lip and shake my head. “I don’t know,” I whisper, hoping he doesn’t hear the tears in my voice.

Carson turns his attention toward me, and I feel it like a thousand knives, my guilt quickly intensifying at the lie.

“A while,” I finally answer honestly. “He wasn’t like this in the beginning,” I defend, thinking that making him sound a little better will somehow make me seem like less of an idiot.

“Has he hit you?”

His voice drops. It’s angry, but not dangerous—not to me.

Greg’s anger made me feel unsafe. Carson’s makes me feel protected. I know Carson would never hurt me. He’s not mad at me; he’s mad at the situation.

“No,” I whisper.

“Put his hands on you?”

The question hangs heavily between us. I know he was eyeing my wrist earlier, but I should lie. I know what will happen if I don’t. Carson said he thinks of me as a sister, so he’d obviously defend me. I don’t want anyone to get hurt, but I know I lie for crap and I really hate doing it.

The movement of my head is so slight that I’m not sure he’ll see it. I sniff, trying to hold back the tears.

“Jesus Christ.” His molars grind together harder as a harsh stream of air passes from his nose.

The truck begins to slow, and I fear that one of my worst nightmares is about to happen. That someone I care about may get hurt or end up in trouble because of me.

Reaching over, I put a hand on his arm. “Please don’t do anything, Carson. Let’s just go.”

He looks at me, fire behind his eyes. “And where are we goin’, huh?

” he bites out. “What happens tomorrow when he apologizes? I’ve seen this shit too many times, Wren.

And I swear to God if he comes near you again…

” He shakes his head, running a hand over his jaw.

“Maybe I should just go back there now and ? —”

“No! Please don’t. It’s over, I swear. Just promise me you won’t do anything.”

We pull up to a stop sign at a quiet intersection, and Carson puts the truck in park.

“Wren. I can’t just let him get away with puttin’ his fuckin’ hands on you.”

“He just grabbed my wrist. I’m fine… Really.”

The disgusted look on his face makes it clear how wrong I am.

“I don’t care if it was a goddamn finger tap. Abuse is abuse, Wren. And I can’t let that happen—not to you.”

Carson’s trembling hand tightens around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white again.

“I know.” I nod, squeezing my fists so tightly at my sides that the crescent shapes of my nails are about to break the skin. “But I’m askin’ you to do this… For me, Carse. Please…”

My plea has him observing me closely once more. It’s evident that there’s a battle raging inside him, caught between doing what I asked and fulfilling his own desires. He exhales, looking away, jaw flexing as he considers.

“Fine,” he finally relents.

I’m both surprised and relieved.

“Where do you want me to take you?”

A heavy silence fills the space between us as I try to think of the answer. Somewhere safe. Somewhere quiet. Someone who won’t overreact when I tell them why I need a place to stay.

“I have a room,” he answers for me. “You can stay with me as long as you need to.”

“Carse, I can’t. He’ll be ? —”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about what he thinks or wants. If you don’t want to stay with me, that’s fine. But you are not stayin’ alone right now. I need to know you’re safe. Let’s call Cal ? —”

“No!” I interject, refusing to get my brother involved. “Please don’t say anything to anyone about this.”

“Wren…” His blue eyes hold mine as he shakes his head. “You’re askin’ a helluva lot from me tonight.”

Requesting that he keep something like this from his best friend is wrong of me. But I feel embarrassed enough. I don’t want anyone else to know about it or do anything stupid because of it. And that is exactly what my brothers would do if they found out what has been going on with Greg.

“Please,” I say one final time, reaching my hand to his arm, my lips rolling between my teeth to bite back the cry I want to release so badly.

Carson looks out his window, releasing a sigh and closing his eyes.

After thinking for a second, he shakes his head again and quietly mutters, “Fine… Where am I takin’ you?”

“Alice’s,” I answer after mulling over my options. She’s a sweet lady, and I know she’d never judge me or my situation.

Carson’s dark brows pinch. “The plant shop lady?”

I nod. “I’ve known her since I was a little girl.”

Releasing the brake, we finally start to move forward from the stop sign.

“And you think she’s just gonna let you stay with her out of the blue like this?” he asks skeptically.

“Yeah.” I lift my chin again. “She’s already offered.”

“She knew about this?” His angry eyes are back on me.

I shrug. “She suspected.”

Carson’s lips part, but he slams them shut, releasing a huff of air through his nose again as his jaw clenches tighter than before. It’s clear that the normally quiet man has a million things he wants to say, but for my sake, he’s holding back.

Why I let this go on for so long with Greg, I’m not entirely sure.

I didn’t really think too much of it in the beginning.

I always saw it as him wanting to spend more time with me.

Loving me so much that he didn’t like being apart, and he’d obviously get jealous at the thought of me being near another man, especially one he knew I had feelings for at one point—something I regret ever telling him about.

I don’t know when it reached the point that it did. The point where I felt the need to hide, sneak, and worst of all…lie.

Greg and I have been together for six months.

If I’m honest with myself, he has behaved this way since day one when he became angry that I was texting a friend during our drive home from our date.

I thought I was reading too much into it and chose to ignore the signs every time his possessive jealousy showed.

By the time we pull up to Alice’s house, Carson has mostly calmed down. His knuckles aren’t as white as he grips the wheel, his breathing has returned to a normal rhythm, and the tension in his jaw has relaxed.

“Thanks, Carse.”

When he looks at me, the emotions I see warring in his eyes bring back that guilty feeling. “I’ll have your things to you tomorrow.”

“What? No. You don’t need to. I can go ? —”

“Again, not a question, Tink.” He shuts off the truck. “I should be able to tell what’s yours, but text me anything you think I might overlook.”

“You can’t do all that alone,” I retort.

“Trust me. I’ll manage just fine.”

“I don’t want you gettin’ in a fight. If he ? —”

“I’ll go while he’s gone. If you want to come with me, you can, but I’d rather you stay away from him and that place.”

Carson has always been a caring person. A good person. And now, because of me, he’s in a messy situation that he shouldn’t be involved in.

I shake my head, overwhelmed. “I don’t want you involved in this.”

He sighs. “Too late for that.”

The tears I’ve been fighting finally spill down my cheeks and I cover my face.

“Shit. Come here.” Carson reaches over the center console and pulls me into his shoulder, resting his head on top of mine as I sob like a baby into my hands.

“I’m sorry,” I sniffle through a sob.

“Stop apologizin’, Wren.” He sits back and lifts my chin. “You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You hear me?”

Biting my lip, I cast my gaze downward, unable to continue looking into the deep-sea eyes that have always read me too easily.

“Hey.” He pulls my chin toward him again. “You’ve done nothin’ wrong, Tink. Do not apologize for this or him. Got it?” His piercing blues hold mine, refusing to leave until I understand.

His words are sincere and challenging to argue with. Nodding, I feel a small smile form on my lips.

“Good. Come on. Let’s get you inside.”