Buried Secrets (New Adult Dark Suspense Romance) by Emme Rollins Read Free Book Online Page B

too.
    Hunting through her drawers, she pulled out a University of Michigan sweatshirt, blue with gold letters. She dug through, looking for sweat pants, but realized they were all down the laundry chute with the rest of the week's dirty clothes. She opened her closet and her drawers, but found that even her yoga pants were dirty.
    She sighed, sitting on the bed and pulling the sweatshirt over her head. Julia had been so busy making funeral arrangements for Nick, accepting condolences, and making sure Dusty wore and said the right things, the laundry had been neglected. But she knew where she could find something to wear.
    What’s the big deal? Just go get a pair of his sweats.
    She didn’t want to go back down the hall to his room, but if she didn’t, Julia would come looking for her, and that would be worse. The only thing she could think of to do was to borrow a pair of Nick's sweats. They would be big but that was okay. She borrowed his clothes all the time. The thought of wearing something of his was a sad sort of comfort.
    She got up and opened her door, peeking out. What are you afraid of? she chided herself. Ghosts? But she was afraid. She was afraid he was in there—afraid she would see him and he would tell her it was her fault for letting him go that night, her fault for not being more insistent he stay, her fault for letting Shane take him away.
    “Don't be stupid,” she whispered, the sound of her own voice crazy but comforting. “Just run in there and get a pair of sweats.”
    She edged her way down the hall and stopped just short of the slant of light spilling onto the floor from his open door. Standing there, just outside, she contemplated going in for a long time, she didn’t know how long. Then, finally, Dusty took a deep breath and stepped into the warmth of the sunlight, and then into his room.
    He really was there—he was everywhere. The entire room was filled with him. There wasn’t a thing that wasn’t Nick. And she couldn’t believe how much that hurt.
    His hair dryer and gel still sat on top of his dresser, along with the t-shirt he’d used to wipe his hands. His bed was rumpled, the magazine she’d been fake-reading still open on it, the stuffed dragon she’d thrown at him face down on the comforter.
    Her breath caught and held and she closed her eyes, fighting tears. If they started now, they’d never stop. And there was no Shane here to catch her if she fell. The pain would come with sharp, razor-like teeth and eat her alive.
    Once she thought she had it under control, she opened her eyes again and headed for his dresser. She found a pair of yellow sweats in the second drawer.
    Walking toward his bed, she saw a picture of Nick and Shane on the night table, taken on a hay ride out at the cider mill back when they were in high school. Dusty had taken it herself, and Nick had liked it so much he’d asked her to blow it up to an eight-by-ten, so she had. At the time, Dusty had thought it was the image of he and Suzanne that he wanted to keep—her arm was around his waist on his other side—but it was Shane who filled the frame with her brother, his arm draped around Nick’s shoulder, a smug smile spread across his face. Suzanne had been folded under, hidden from view.
    Nick smiled at her out of the gold frame and bitterness filled her throat as she picked up the picture, hugging it to her chest for a moment, cuddling it, her insides burning, as if she had swallowed dry ice.
    In her grief, she didn’t hear the footsteps behind her, and when the hand fell on her shoulder, she screamed, dropping the picture onto the bed and whirling around.
    “What are you doing in here?” Julia. Jesus, it was just Julia, coming up to check on her as Dusty had known she would. “And what are you wearing?”
    Dusty's heart rate started to slow to a normal rhythm again and she managed an answer. “I... I came in here for a pair of sweats. Mine are dirty.”
    “You’re going to wear sweats?”