Page 96 of Catch Me When I Fall

He shook his head once. “Never,” he vowed as his hands dropped to my waist, his lips against mine.

Chapter 25

Grayson

One week later. Astoria, OR.

Seven days.

I’d been with Carrie for seven days—snowed in with her in her blue house. The second round of storms was worst than expected, starting off with snow and turning into solid ice. All my life, I’d hated the thought of snow, but over the last week, I’d come to love it.

I seemed to love anything if Carrie was involved.

We spent the days together in a blissful haze unlike anything I’d never known. She cooked for me. I cooked for her. We took turns doing chores around the house. I fixed the door to the basement, which I learned Carrie never goes down into because she had “seen enough scary movies to know that avoiding basements is a smart idea.”

For the first time in a week, she was back at work. She told me about Sarah and the grumpy barista known as Margo. Then, of course, the old English man, Rossy, who owned the store. I let her ramble on about her bookstore adventures when her head was on my chest and we were cuddled up in her bed two nights ago. My sunshine was a talker, and I was more than happy to listen, even when she was telling me information I already knew.

I knew everything about her coworkers, from Rossy’s work visa that was about to expire, to Margo’s credit card debt. I knew everything about Sarah and Michael Humbly.

That was why I was sitting comfortably in Sheriff Humbly’s office, waiting on him to return from his lunch so we could have a discussion. After walking through town this morning after dropping Carrie off, Leo’s disappearance was already on people’s minds.

The door to Michael’s office flew open behind me, and I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder at him.

“What the fuck?” he whispered.

“Nice to see you too, Sheriff,” I drawled, folding my arms over my chest.

He came around to my front, glaring at me. “What the fuck?” he repeated.

“You’ve already said that,” I noted calmly before gesturing to his seat. “Sit. We have some things to discuss.”

“Look, Mr. Grayson, I don’t have the time for this. I have a missing person to find—”

“—then I suggest you take your fucking seat,” I bit off, baring my teeth as I glared up at him.

He blinked, realization dawning. As he walked around his desk, taking his seat, he asked, “Are you—are you here to help us?”

I stared at him, not giving a single fuck that I was about to shred every ounce of hope in his voice.

“Leo Samuels is dead,” I deadpanned.

Michael Humbly’s face transformed at the sound of my words, his jaw tightened as his spine snapped straight, but it was the flash in his brown eyes that caught my attention. I bit down on my jaw once, twice before leaning forward, forearms against my knees. “Do you understand why I’m here?” I asked.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I advise you not to,” he warned me, his words coming out slow and calculated.

Smart man.

He knew I was behind Leo’s death, and if he was searching my face for remorse, he wouldn’t find any.

“Nothing you do will keep me behind bars, Sheriff Humbly.”

“You say that like a man who has never paid for his fucking actions,” he spat, his lips thinning.

My lips curled into a cruel smile, a low chuckle coming from me. “I have my own version of justice.”

He said nothing, his eyes darting for the phone on his desk.

“Lift a fucking finger, and I won’t even give you a chance to scream before you join him,” I threatened, a growl in the back of my throat.

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