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  Grant wasn’t sure things could get much worse than seeing Wren at the scene and he hadn’t hit anything then. “Just tell me whatever it is you have to say.”

  “Wren’s staying at my place.”

  He was still, trying to process that information without feeling anything. He knew he was wrecked emotionally at the moment and it would be too easy to get hung up on where loyalties should lie and say something he couldn’t take back.

  Gavin was a firefighter. Cait was an EMT. Helping people was in their nature. And Wren wasn’t a stranger. She’d almost been family.

  He nodded sharply. “Your place is a one-bedroom. Is she sleeping on the couch?”

  “Tonight, yeah. For a longer term solution—you know, until she gets back on her feet—Cait suggested she stay with Cait’s mom and Carter, in her old room because it’s empty. She said Wren wanted no part of it, and she got really agitated when she suggested Danny and Ashley’s, because they have a kid.”

  Grant connected the dots. “She’s scared of something.”

  “Or somebody.”

  A new emotion coursed through Grant, so intense he sucked in a breath. Somebody wanted to hurt Wren. Somebody had hurt Wren, badly enough so she’d run.

  She’d run from him.

  “Okay, now he might hit something,” Chris said, taking a step out of his arm’s reach.

  “I’m not going to hit anything.” The person he wanted to hit wasn’t here. He couldn’t even be sure there was a person, though it felt like he’d found the missing piece of the Wren puzzle.

  It made sense. Her reserve when they’d met. How reluctant she’d been to let him in. Why she’d felt the need to run.

  There could never be an explanation for why she’d run from him, though, other than Wren not trusting him to keep her safe. To take care of her. That was never going to make sense to him.

  “She can come stay with us,” Derek said. “We live a little further from the neighborhood, so maybe far enough away from whatever the problem is. She and Julia really hit it off at the Labor Day barbecue. I know Olivia wouldn’t mind.”

  Memories of Wren, her blonde hair shining in the sun as she laughed with Derek’s daughter in Aidan’s backyard, slammed into Grant’s mind and they hurt. That day had been one of the happiest days of his life—watching the woman he was going to marry fitting right in with the people who were like family to him—and a week later she’d dumped him and taken off.

  Rick was washing his bowl, but he looked over his shoulder. “If she wouldn’t stay with Danny and Ashley because of Jackson, she’s probably not going to stay with you. Especially since she did hit it off so well with your daughter.”

  “We need to find out what she’s afraid of and take care of it,” Scott said, and Aidan nodded.

  “If she wanted our help,” Grant said, “she would have asked me for it when I was her boyfriend. Obviously she doesn’t.”

  Rick dried his hands and leaned against the counter. “Until we know what’s going on, we don’t know why she’s doing anything she does. But we do know she needs help. You know we have your back, Cutter. If you want nothing to do with her, then Cait can set her up with the agencies who’ll help her out and that’ll be the end of it. It’s your call.”

  “She’s lost everything,” Gavin said quietly. “And I’m guessing she didn’t have much to begin with.”

  Grant wasn’t surprised Gavin was the one pushing him toward helping her. Because they were best friends, he was the guy who’d spent the most time with Wren.

  “If any of you can get her to stay with you while she finds a new place, I’m cool with that. And I have some of her stuff.” He shrugged. “Not much, but there were some things she’d left at my apartment and since she didn’t tell anybody where she was going, I couldn’t give it back. And I couldn’t just throw it away.”

  “She’d probably like to have it,” Gavin said. “Even if it’s not much, it’s something. Because that fire was such a bitch, with the ice and all, there’s not gonna be much to save in that building.”

  “It’s in a bag. I can run home and grab it and...” He could give it to Gavin or leave it on the damn doorstep. There was no reason he had to see her. He waited, hoping his friend would offer to swing by and pick it up, but Gavin said nothing. “I’ll stop by with it after shift. See how she’s doing.”

  It would hurt. There was no doubt about that. But he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head since he saw her sitting in the back of Cait’s ambulance, and he knew it would only get worse when he went home to his empty apartment and tried to close his eyes.

  So he’d see her. He’d give Wren her stuff and see with his own eyes that she was okay. And then he’d walk away.

  * * *

  Wren sat on the edge of a couch that wasn’t hers, wearing borrowed clothes after taking a shower and cleaning up with the spare toiletries Cait had given her. The leggings were a little baggy on her and the lightweight sweatshirt hung almost to her knees, but she was thankful for them.

  Cait brought her a blanket and a pillow, which she put on top of several throw pillows to keep Wren elevated a little. “Can I ask you something?”

  She couldn’t really say no, considering how generous the other woman was being with her hospitality. “Sure.”

  “You were obviously running away from something, so why did you stay in Boston?”

  It was probably the last question Wren wanted to hear because she didn’t want to face the honest answer. “It costs a lot of money to move.”

  Cait sighed and gave a slight shake of her head, as if she knew Wren was lying to her. “Yeah, it does. Unless you’re just packing what little you own in a car and disappearing. One tank of gas could have gotten you someplace a hell of a lot cheaper to live.”

  And someplace a hell of a lot farther from Grant. It had been stupid to stay in the city and she knew it. But she hadn’t been able to bring herself to fill that gas tank and drive until she ran out of gas money. Her little car got good mileage and she would have gotten far enough away so she’d never see him again.

  That was the thought that had kept her in the city, working her ass off to pay the outrageous rent on a crappy apartment while saving for something better. Even as she faced knowing he’d only be safe if she left, she couldn’t imagine living the rest of her life without seeing him again. Maybe if she had a little time, she could come up with a way to make her problem disappear and then she could tell him everything.

  Maybe he would have forgiven her and even loved her again.

  Now she knew differently. The look he’d given her after handing her into the ambulance was seared into her memory already and it broke her heart all over again.

  “I don’t think you really wanted to leave Grant,” Cait said in a low voice. “You should have talked to him, Wren. No matter what it was, you should have told him because he loved you.”

  Loved. Would there ever come a time that past tense wouldn’t hurt?

  “Okay, it’s late,” Cait said when Wren didn’t have an answer for her. “Get some rest and things will look better in the morning.”

  Once Cait had turned off the lights and gone into her bedroom, Wren stretched out on the couch and pulled the soft blanket over her. She didn’t expect sleep to come easily, especially with the coughing, but it had been a long, cold, scary night and feeling safe and warm knocked her out.

  She woke up when the front door closed. It was light enough for her to see Gavin, and he closed the door as quietly as he could, but she’d been sleeping even lighter than usual in the months since she’d gotten the phone call from Ben.

  He looked in her direction and winced. “Sorry. I tried to be quiet.”

  “I was awake anyway,” she lied to make him feel better. Her throat was dry and scratchy, and her voice was hoarse.

  “You doing okay?” He kept his voice lo
w, probably to avoid waking Cait, so he walked closer as he spoke.

  “I’m fine.” That seemed to be her life now.

  You doing okay?

  I’m fine.

  Nothing could be farther from the truth, but she knew if she opened the door to any of the people in Grant’s life, they’d come charging through and she didn’t want anybody else to worry about.

  “Thank you for letting me crash here,” she said. “I hope it didn’t cause you any problems. With Grant, I mean. I assume you told him.”

  “I had to tell him. That’s not the kind of thing I could keep from him.” He shrugged. “It’s not a problem. I mean, you aren’t just some woman Grant used to date. You’re Wren. We know you and we’re not just turning our backs on you because...you broke up.”

  Because you turned your back on Grant and broke up with him in the most hurtful way possible. “Thank you.”

  The bedroom door opened and Cait poked her head out. “Hey, good morning.”

  To give Cait time to welcome her guy home, Wren got up and went into the bathroom. She didn’t rush, giving them a few minutes to talk, so by the time she was done, the apartment smelled like coffee.

  “Do you want some coffee?” Gavin asked while she folded the blanket and set it neatly on the pillow.

  “Yes, please. Black is fine.”

  She could tell by the way Cait looked at her as she sipped that they’d talked about her while she was in the bathroom and they had something to tell her she probably wasn’t going to like.

  They let her have a few sips of her coffee—which tasted like heaven even if it was a little hot for her throat after the smoke and coughing—before Gavin broke the news. “Grant’s going to stop by in about an hour.”

  “Oh.” Wren set the coffee mug on the table because the liquid contents made it too obvious her hands were trembling. “I can be gone by then. I’ll just—”

  “He’s coming to see you,” he said. “Well, he’s coming to drop off a few things you’d left at his apartment, anyway. Not much, I guess. But he thought you might want it.”

  So he wasn’t actually coming to see her. He just wanted to return a few things, though at this moment, she couldn’t remember anything she’d left at his place.

  “I thought Cait and I would go get some breakfast somewhere. Give you two some privacy.”

  Privacy for what? Wren didn’t feel strong enough to bear the weight of whatever anger and resentment Grant needed to get off his chest. Maybe he’d demand answers and she wasn’t sure she was ready to give him any.

  If Ben set that fire...

  “Wren?” Concern practically radiated from Cait. “If you’re not feeling up to it, I’ll stay. He can give me the stuff and go on his way.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she managed to say, despite feeling as if her sore throat was closing up on her.

  If he had some things he wanted to say to her, she wouldn’t run from him. He deserved that much after what she’d done.

  Chapter Three

  Grant knocked on Gavin and Cait’s door, hoping the emotions churning in his gut didn’t show on his face.

  He wasn’t sure what a guy was supposed to say to a woman who’d told him she loved him, too, and later the same day, told him they were done and she never wanted to see him again.

  Why? That was the obvious question, but seeing her last night had been like reopening a wound that had barely begun to heal. It was still all tenderness and ragged edges and unexpected sore spots. And last night had ripped it all wide open. Right now he wanted to throw a bandage over it and pretend it didn’t hurt.

  When the door opened and Wren stepped back to let him in without really looking him in the eye, he felt as if that wound had been doused with salt water.

  For a second, he was ready to toss the small duffel bag through the open door and run.

  “Come in,” she said, and the raspiness in her voice made him remember the feel of her limp, unconscious body draped over his shoulder last night.

  He went in, walking past her to set the bag down on the table. “You left a few things at my place. Not a lot, but I have that sweatshirt you...well, you said it was your favorite, so I thought you might want it.”

  And he’d guessed right, judging by the way her face softened as he pulled it out of the bag. It was obviously old and had been washed a million times, but it was a soft pink with a big, draping neckline and a long, loose hem.

  She’d liked to wear it with nothing but a pair of lace-trimmed panties while they cuddled on the couch to watch television.

  He dropped it back in the bag as if it had scalded his fingers. “There’s some other random stuff, too. Nothing big, but I figured you’d want the sweatshirt.”

  “Thank you for bringing it over. Cait warned me not to expect to save much, if anything, from my apartment, but I’ll have my favorite sweatshirt. Thank you for not throwing it away or tossing it in a donation bin.”

  He nodded because he didn’t want to acknowledge that would have been the typical thing to do. Or that he’d tried and couldn’t bring himself to get rid of her things. Especially the sweatshirt. He hadn’t slept with it or anything, but he couldn’t throw it away.

  “Do you want some coffee or something? Gavin said there’s plenty of breakfast things and to help myself.”

  “No, thanks. I’m not staying.” And yet he couldn’t bring himself to move toward the door.

  “Okay.”

  Silence filled the apartment, heavy and awkward, until Grant blurted out, “I want to know what’s going on.”

  “Grant, I...I didn’t want to hurt you. You have to believe—”

  He held up his hand to make her stop talking. He didn’t have to believe shit. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t want to talk about feelings. I don’t want to talk about us. I want you tell me what’s going on with you right now.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. If you don’t want me to talk about us or why I left, what do you want to know?”

  “If you’d gone off to some new great opportunity, it would be one thing. But you ghosted on me just to live in some shithole fire hazard, and that tells me you were running and I want to know what you were running from.”

  Her expression closed off and that kind of abrupt withdrawal wasn’t in her usual nature, so he knew he’d hit a nerve. “It’s nothing that concerns you.”

  “Bullshit. You’re staying with friends of mine. That makes whatever you’re afraid of my business.”

  “Then I’ll leave.”

  Grant blew out a breath, forcing himself to take a minute before saying anything else. Even in the beginning, when she’d maintained a distance, she hadn’t sounded hard. This kind of closed-off resolution was so unlike her, he knew something heavy was weighing on her. He needed to know what it was.

  “It doesn’t work that way, Wren,” he said finally, in a much calmer voice. “You were mine and they’re like my family. That means you were theirs, too. They’ve already proven that, no matter what went down between you and me, they’re not going to turn their backs on you when you’re down. They’re not going to let you just walk away.”

  “They can’t stop me.”

  He held her gaze, noticing the way her hair gave away her trembling and how she blinked fast to keep tears from filling her eyes.

  And even as he cursed himself for a fool, he stepped forward. He opened his arms, telegraphing his intentions and giving her the chance to turn away. To reject him. Instead, a tear spilled over onto her cheek as she moved into his embrace.

  He tried not to feel anything. All he wanted to do was offer this woman comfort, but her body fit so perfectly against his. For months, he’d ached for her, and joy and pain ran through him like some kind of fucked-up emotional cocktail.

  “I’m not trying to control you,” he murmured against her hair. “Or threa
ten you or anything like that. I’m trying to tell you that, no matter what it is, we all have your back.”

  She whispered something that sounded a lot like that’s the problem, which didn’t make any sense.

  Then she coughed, a harsh and ragged sound that reminded him that no matter how emotionally messed up this was, she’d been through a physical trauma.

  “Let’s sit down,” he said, hoping that sitting together would not only ease her cough, but might seem less adversarial than standing facing each other. He’d been determined not to touch her at all, but that ship had sailed.

  She didn’t resist as he led her to the couch and pulled her down next to him. Rather than putting his arm around her, even though he knew she fit perfectly there, he laced his fingers through hers and squeezed her hand.

  “I didn’t want to make this personal, but I guess it can’t be separated. Whatever this is isn’t just hurting you, Wren. It ruined us. It destroyed me.” He watched her face crumple as she closed her eyes, but he couldn’t stop. “It stole the life I thought we were going to have together and I want to know what it is that had that kind of power over you.”

  “I’m scared to tell you. Like really scared.”

  He felt her body tense as if she was about to get up, and he put his other hand over their clasped hands. “Okay. Is it a something or a somebody?”

  He didn’t think it was some dark secret she was ashamed of or she wouldn’t have bolted so suddenly. It was fear. He’d known from the night he met her that she had something in her past. Something that made her wary and slow to trust or open up. But when she had opened up to him, she’d been all in. Or so he’d thought.

  “Somebody,” she whispered.

  Anger burned through him and he tightened his hands around hers. “An ex?” She nodded. “Ex-husband?”

  “No.” He watched her take a very deep breath, hoping it meant she was resigning herself to finally telling her story. “An ex-boyfriend.”

  “And he hurt you?” Again, the rage filled him, this time like a surge of energy he had to burn off somehow before it consumed him.