Page 79 of Wish You Were Mine

Nate rolled his eyes. “So of course you hurried over without stopping to think it through.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, but Asher cleared his throat pointedly, so I just huffed and let it go. It shouldn’t bother me that my brothers seemed to think me impulsive and reckless. I was too old to need anyone else’s approval. Yet it did frustrate me, nonetheless.

What would they say if they found out I’d kissed Asher? Would they consider that just one more poorly thought out decision?

Slowly, Asher led us up the path. As we neared the porch, the overhead light came on, illuminating the gaping hole in the center of his window. Beyond that, the house was dark.

Nate whistled. “Looks like they threw something through it.”

Patton tipped his chin up. “You think it was that rather than punching it out to gain entrance?”

“Based on the location of the hole, I’d guess so. They’d have done it closer to the bottom if they wanted in.” He turned on the flashlight app on his phone and shone it through the window. “There’s a rock on the floor.”

“I’ll dust the windowsill for fingerprints,” Patton’s partner said. “I’m not an expert but it’ll be better than nothing. You won’t get a crime scene tech out here just because of a little vandalism.”

He jogged back to their car.

“Do you think this could be related to the fight earlier today?” I asked. It seemed like too much of a coincidence that Asher would get assaulted in the morning and then randomly have someone else throw a rock through his window in the evening.

“What happened?” Patton asked as his partner came back up the path toward us.

Nate briefly explained. “It’s possible this is a continuation of that,” he agreed. “I’ll check with James Conroy in the morning to see if he can account for his movements tonight.”

I bit my lip. “What about Lionel Lowry?”

Asher turned toward me, frowning. “Lionel wouldn’t—”

“He’s an angry man,” I said. “Angry people do stupid things.”

Nate stepped aside so Patton’s partner could access the window. “Summer is right. We should check, just to be sure. In the meantime, Asher, can you unlock the door so we can have a look inside?”

With shaking hands, Asher withdrew a key from one of his pockets and slotted it into the lock. He turned and pushed the door open. Nate touched his shoulder when he tried to enter.

“Patton will go first,” he said. “He’s fully kitted out in protective gear.”

My stomach lurched. It was the sensible thing to do, but I hated the thought that someone with ill intentions might be hiding inside Asher’s home, lying in wait.

“Gee thanks, boss,” Patton said wryly, but he drew his Taser, held his flashlight high with his other hand, and stepped inside.

“Stay here,” Nate said as he followed him in.

Asher and I exchanged glances. I could tell he was listening as carefully as me, hoping that all would be well. A couple minutes later, Nate stuck his head back out the door and gestured for us to come in.

“The place is empty, other than the cat. She’s sleeping peacefully on the bed.” He jerked his thumb toward the living room. “You need to see this.”

Asher’s eyebrows knitted together. “What is it?”

Nate just shook his head and led the way into the living room. Patton was crouched on the floor, shards of glass scattered around him and latex gloves on his hands as he held an oval-shaped rock. Presumably, this was what had done the damage to the window.

“Come closer,” he said.

We gathered in a circle, everyone being careful not to stand on any large shards of glass. As I leaned over, I realized that a message was scratched onto the back of the rock in block letters. It read:

WHAT SCARES YOU MOST?

I shivered, a cold tendril of fear sneaking down my spine. “What the hell is that about?”

“We were hoping you might know.” Patton glanced at Asher. “Any ideas?”

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