Page 3 of You're the Reason

After retrieving the key, Seth let himself in, bracing himself for the impact of memories, but they didn’t come. Someone else had lived here recently. The peeling wallpaper was flowered instead of the plaid pattern they’d had. The brown stained carpet had been replaced with a cheap wood floor. Even the odor of cigarettes that had always hit him when he entered had faded to a distant smell covered by something he’d expect to find in an old attic. Nothing about this place felt familiar.

He hurried up the steps toward his bedroom in the front corner. The worn yellow walls he’d always hated were now pink with a few peeling duck decals. Couldn’t say he liked it any better.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he pulled it out. “Hey, Grant. What’s up?”

“Sorry to abandon you. We went to get the girls settled at Caroline’s brother’s house. Now we’re on the way to the hospital.” His friend’s voice sounded a bit distant, which meant he was probably speaking though the car phone. “Where are you at?”

“Still in Heritage.” Seth would leave the exact location out of it. “Did you need me to get something?”

“No, I just wanted to say we expect this to be a long night. I probably won’t be around for lifting at the ranch tomorrow. Maybe next weekend.”

A week without lifting? He ignored the unease that spread through him. “That’s fine.”

And one more reminder that he needed to find another option for lifting soon. He loved lifting with Grant, but the ranch was two hours away. But since his car had become his place of residence, it was his only option. At least for now, Grant let him keep his weights there.

“You sure you’re good to wait?” There was no mistaking the tension in Grant’s voice.

He didn’t blame his friend. When Seth had landed at Quinn Ranch for rehab, Grant had tried to get him interested in every sport under the sun. He’d had just enough bitterness about his past back then that he’d refused all of it. That was until Grant had introduced him to weightlifting. Since that day, it had become his anti-drug—literally. But he’d been clean for over five years, and a few missed gym sessions weren’t going to change that. “Positive.”

“You know, Seth, it was good to have you there today. Caroline said that Leah was so happy you decided to come. She really adores you.”

Adored him?

The idea wrapped around him and made it difficult to breathe. Leah had treated him like family from the time she’d gotten engaged to Jon. He couldn’t imagine that someone would want him around—someone who wasn’t even obligated by blood—and there went that tightening of his chest again.

He pushed away the emotions, cleared his throat. “I’ll be at the hospital to change cars soon.”

He ended the call and circled the room, finally stopping at his closet. He knelt down and felt along the wall but came up empty. He pulled out his phone and tapped the flashlight. It lit up the small space. His fingers found the bent nail and twisted it, releasing a small section of paneling.

One thing hadn’t changed. He pulled out the old wooden plaque not much bigger than two inches by four inches. There were toothpicks glued roughly to it and if possible, it looked worse than he’d remembered. He dropped it in his shirt pocket then resecured the wall and stood.

He circled the room once more and paused at the window. His gaze snagged on the window straight across the street from him. He’d spent half his childhood wishing that was his home instead of this one. Not just because it was bigger and fancier. But it always looked clean and homey.

The curtain in her room moved.

Grace?

He hadn’t seen her in years. Last he’d heard she was starring in a ballet in Chicago, so what would she be doing here? This trip down memory lane was playing tricks on him. His gaze skipped over to the next window, where Gabe had shared a room with Gregory. His hands broke out into a sweat, and he ran them down the lengths of his pants. Maybe he hadn’t completely moved on.

He stepped back from the window, then made his way back down the stairs and out the door. He took a second to lock the door and rehide the key. Maybe it was silly, but it just seemed right.

He hurried over to Jon’s car and got in. Then followed Henderson to Heritage Road, where he turned toward 31. In half an hour, he’d get his car back and still have no job. Because no matter how desperate he was, he wasn’t going to bother Jon with that tonight.

He’d just gotten the Mustang up to speed when lights flashed in his rearview mirror.

Just great. He pulled the car that he had no business driving to the side of the road, rolled down the window, and waited with both hands on the wheel.

The officer approached and leaned down. “License and registration.”

He didn’t have to look to recognize the voice. Officer Hammond.

Of course. But that was what happened when you had one officer in the area. Everyone knew who was in charge. Wasn’t he supposed to retire soon?

His hair and mustache were a touch grayer, but he pretty much hadn’t changed. “Evening, Officer.”

The man’s eyes widened slightly as recognition seemed to sink in. “Seth Warner. I hadn’t heard you were back.”

There was no affection in the words, and Seth didn’t blame the guy. Hammond had been the one who’d busted Seth more than a dozen times in his teen years. Alcohol, curfew violation, the infamous drug possession, and the doozy of them all... suspicion for Gregory’s death. If Seth were a betting man, he would guess that it was the last one that was circling Officer Hammond’s mind as his jaw seemed to tighten and his hand went to rest on the gun at his hip.

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