The Truth About Us
Page 71
Reaching out, Kaden placed two fingers under her chin, gently guiding her gaze away from the building to him. “What are you thinking?”
“I’m not good at this. At feeling things, and I don’t know...” She paused and bit the inside of her cheek, trying to sort through the thoughts volleying in her head like a wild game of tennis.
“What if I find something horrible? Like that I’m adopted? Or that my father isn’t really my father? Or that GG discovered my grandfather had cheated on her years ago? Or...or...”
Abigail’s gaze shifted around her car, searching for questions and answers. “What if my grandfather was a drug dealer all these years or she—”
“Stop. Breathe,” Kaden said, coaxing her with a soothing voice. He slid his hands down to her shoulders and squeezed.
Abby inhaled, pulling oxygen into her lungs and focused on the tenor of his voice.
“Good. Now exhale,” he coached. “Breathe. Relax.”
Abby listened. With every breath, the rubber bands constricting her lungs loosened.
When she shot him a grateful smile, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her forehead, then moved south, kissing the tip of her nose, followed by her mouth, trailing fire in his wake.
“Most of those things wouldn’t explain the clues we have. I don’t know what’s in there,” he said, gesturing toward the storage building, “but whatever it is, you can handle it. We’ll figure it out, and it’ll be okay. Got it?”
Abby grit her teeth, unsure.
“But if you don’t want to do this, if you’ve changed your mind, we can leave. Right now. We can drive back to your house or go see a movie or grab some lunch, but you need to put this behind you if that’s your choice. Either we go in or we don’t, and you stop hunting.”
“I don’t think I can stop,” Abby murmured. “And if I flunk all my classes, my parents are going to kill me. Forgetting this isn’t an option when I can’t even focus enough to get through a day with this hanging over my head.”
“Then you know what you need to do.”
He squeezed her hands, and she nodded. She could do this.
“I got this,” she said, then before she could change her mind, she swung her door open and headed toward the building with the key clenched inside her fist.
ABBY POUNDED A FIST against the aluminum siding, then cursed.
“Ouch!” She dropped her hand and winced at the sharp pain in her knuckles while Kaden snickered.
“We’ve gone through two-thirds of these stupid units. There’s only a couple left! What if we don’t find it? What if we’re wrong, and the key isn’t to one of these?” She stepped back as Kaden snatched the keys from her hand, then tried another unit with no luck.
Abigail threw her arms up, her frustration mounting. She leaned back against the cool metal and crossed them over her chest. “We’ve spent over half the day in this middle-of-nowhere town, and so far, we’ve found nothing. We’re the worst.”
The building shuddered against her back.
“You were saying?” Kaden said, his voice edged with excitement.
Abigail pushed off the side of the building, staring at Kaden as he grinned, crouched down, and pushed the huge rolling door the rest of the way up.
“Bingo,” he murmured, peering into the cavernous room.
“Oh my gosh.” Abby stepped inside, her mouth gaping.
Boxes sat on the dusty concrete floor, piled knee-high, along with a couple pieces of miscellaneous furniture and an old bicycle.
Abby moved to the back of the unit and wrinkled her nose at the musty scent of mildew. Turning, she took in the cluttered contents of the small space while the soft melody of a bird along with the swooshing sound of passing cars soothed her mounting nerves.
Next to her, Kaden whipped a drop cloth off an old chair. A plume of dust billowed off the old fabric, causing him to cough. “Well, it definitely looks like this stuff has been here a while.”
Abby bounced on her toes, eyeing the boxes and ignoring the fluttering wings in her chest. Nodding, she said, “There’s a lot to go through. Let’s get started.”
Twenty minutes later, she slumped in her spot on the grimy floor. “I’ve got nothing. You find anything yet?” she asked Kaden in a toneless voice.