Page 55 of His to Cherish
He knew. He had to know who that was.
“Yeah.”
Slowly, I turned to him as tears began to burn my eyes. I couldn’t cry. Not now.
I typed back a quick message to Beth as David climbed out of his side of his SUV.
Me: No, not yet. I’ll keep my eyes peeled. I’m at Aidan’s. Just found out it was Derrick’s birthday today.
Her reply was almost instant.
Beth Johnson: Oh no. I totally forgot.
Oh no, was right.
And oh crap, oh shit, oh God, oh hell. All of thoseohs seemed appropriate.
With goosebumps prickling my skin, and adrenaline buzzing in my veins, I slowly climbed out of the vehicle and met David at the front where he’d been waiting for me.
His hands were in his pockets and his eyes were on the front door.
There were no lights on and it didn’t look like Aidan was home.
I checked my phone, to see if I’d missed any texts or calls from him, but there was nothing.
“It doesn’t look like he’s home,” I said quietly, although I didn’t know why I was whispering. No one was around to hear us, but it seemed to fit the tense mood.
Even the air felt thick and damp, like the trees and sky were in the mood to cry for whatever we were about to walk into.
“Come on.” David took my hand, clasped his palm around mine, and pulled me toward the front door. He flipped through his keys when we hit the front stoop and had a key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door before I could tell him about Shane, or Beth, or any of my concerns.
He was purely focused on Aidan anyway.
“Damn.”
I cleared my throat as soon as we got inside the house.
It reeked of stale pizza and beer and a host of other smells I couldn’t and didn’t want to identify.
The front room, which looked like a small office, was completely trashed. A lamp was tossed over, shattered all over the carpeted floor, and papers were strewn everywhere.
Even a laptop was broken and lying upside down on the floor.
“Oh no,” I muttered, and quietly began to follow David through the house.
He flicked light switches on the wall on his way, illuminating the mess. It looked like the house had been broken into, and as much as that thought concerned me, I knew it hadn’t been.
This was the damage done by a broken man in pain. An angry man who had no other outlet but to destroy everything in his path.
“Aidan!” David’s loud voice boomed through the house. It echoed off the walls and the two-story foyer we’d just walked through, but we didn’t get an answer.
“Check the garage,” he muttered, pointing me toward a door. “See if his truck’s here.”
I did, hesitantly, and exhaled when I saw his truck parked at an angle inside the garage.
“It’s here.”
David kept walking until we hit the kitchen. The stench made me gag and I suddenly realized why Aidan had been spending so much time at my house.
