Shelter from the Storm (Finley Creek Book 2)

by Calle J. Brookes

  Hearings were difficult, he didn’t want to put Brynna through that. Not with her looking as fragile as she just had.

  Elliot waited until Gabby was in the SUV, then pulled his phone free and dialed his brother.

  Chance deserved to know that Brynna had just been commandeered by the son of one of the men who had almost killed her.

  Somehow he didn’t think Chance was going to be too happy about that.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN

  * * *

  CHANCE hung up after speaking with his brother. Brynna was back. Elliot had thought he’d want to know. And he did. He wanted to see her, touch her, smell her, taste her—everything he could do with her. But that wouldn’t be fair to her.

  He thought about her for a moment. What did he want from her?

  What did he want in general? He wasn’t certain he knew the answer to that question. He was thirty-four, he had decades left, God willing. Was this how he wanted to spend it? On the fringes of Elliot’s life, not a real part of it?

  Brynna was back, and that meant Gabby was back now. His brother could stop moping around, missing her.

  Elliot and Gabby were going to make a life together, any idiot could see that. His brother would be happy. Fulfilled.

  Chance would have his job, such that it was. What else?

  Would he be forced to see Brynna occasionally, whenever he’d see Elliot? What if Elliot and Gabby married and had children? Brynna would be there at the kids’ birthday parties, at barbeques, and every other damned thing families did.

  Would he be forced to see her with the man she finally did marry? Would he see her have that man’s children? What if the guy ended up being a real asshole who hurt her somehow?

  Would he be able to stand seeing Brynna hurting, seeing her and not touching her, not having her for himself?

  What was he supposed to think?

  She’d arrived back in Finley Creek and he hadn’t even been told she was coming home. No one had bothered to tell him ahead of time. No one had considered that he had the right to know. And he didn’t. He’d given up that right, hadn’t he? He had given up the right.

  Hell, Houghton Barratt had been there to make sure she was safe. Not him.

  Houghton Barratt, a man who thought nothing of abducting a woman and forcing her to marry him.

  That didn’t sit too well with Chance. Not at all. And Barratt’s attention would naturally be on his wife. Who could blame him?

  Elliot had Gabby and the life they were building out at the old homestead. Mel had whatever it was she was doing with Barratt. Where would that leave Brynna?

  She thrived on routine, and he’d heard from Elliot that she had been struggling in St. Louis with the changes and traumas she’d been through. It was why they’d left Lucas’ place and moved in with her sister, in the first place. Brynna was used to staying with the oldest Beck daughter, so they’d thought it would help her adjust to the lengthy stay in St. Louis. From what Gabby had told Elliot, it hadn’t.

  Brynna was struggling.

  That tore at him, and had for the past week, since Elliot had first told him. How many times had he fought going to St. Louis on some pretext, just to see her? Just to check?

  And now she was with Houghton Barratt, the day after the man’s father had broken in to the apartment Brynna had been sleeping in.

  How was she handling that? Had it terrified her? He knew it had, knew she had nightmares that Handley Barratt featured in strongly. To have him show up where she was sleeping had to have terrified her.

  He wanted to see her, check on her, make sure she was ok. To hold her and tell her he’d never let anything hurt her again. But he would never be able to keep that promise, would he? He’d always end up hurting her somehow. She deserved far better than him.

  And that was exactly why he was getting out of Finley Creek. His contacts had reported a man matching Handley Barratt’s description entering Mexico less than two hours ago.

  He wasn’t coming back to Finley Creek until he had that man where he could never get near Brynna again.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT.

  * * *

  BRYNNA stared at the realtor’s website for what must have been fifteen minutes or more. The house represented a dream to her. Perhaps it was a foolish one—but she’d managed to scramble together most of the purchase price. It wasn’t chump change for anyone. The house had mattered to her.

  It had been a real, tangible piece of hope.

  But so had the money. It had been a real sign of what she had done.

  More than that, the money was going to help her with this. The next part of her life.

  She could have applied the money toward the house, but that would have still left her with an astronomical house payment and no real savings anymore.

  She didn’t have a job. At least not one she wanted to do anymore. There was no way she’d ever be able to walk back into the TSP and not remember what had happened.

  More importantly, she didn’t want to. The TSP had never been her dream. It had been a way to get experience that she needed. And she had gotten that—far more than she’d ever have wanted. She touched a hand to the still healing scars just below her ribs.

  Just how lucky she had been was something Brynna would never forget. Dr. Anderson had told her bluntly when Mel had taken her to him for a follow up the day after they’d come home that she was damned lucky she had survived. That the baby, that tiny miraculous part of her and Chance, had made it this far was definitely against the odds.

  Brynna preferred to think of it as meant to be.

  Apparently the house she’d wanted since she was a teenager wasn’t.

  She was allowed to feel disappointed by that.

  And almost two million dollars would go a long way toward helping her stay home to take care of her baby, wouldn’t it? She’d already googled the approximate cost of a pregnancy and delivery at the Finley Creek hospital. She already had a wonderful home with her dad and her sisters. They would be shocked by her news—most of them, anyway, Mel was already knitting bunches of little hats and blankets for both her and Carrie—but her baby would be welcomed and loved. Her baby would grow up in a wonderful place. Just like she had.

  If that was ok with Chance, that was.

  He was the only real problem, wasn’t he? They hadn’t planned on anything like this. There had been no commitment, and Brynna was fine with that. Even though the thought of not being with him felt like her heart was being wrenched from her body whenever she let the thought linger in her head.

  Brynna was an adult. She wasn’t going to die from a broken heart. She wasn’t.

  How could she? She felt like she’d given the emotional heart to that man who obviously didn’t want it. It had been long enough for her to figure that out. She had to get a hold of herself now though. She had to. Her baby depended on it.

  He had been traipsing around Mexico for eighteen days. He’d missed Christmas with his brother and Gabby. He’d missed New Year’s.

  And she had to wait for him to show up again before she could tell him and then the rest of her family. If he was missing too much longer, she’d have to tell the rest of her family anyway. The nausea was getting worse, and they’d probably start to notice when her belly got round. Where was he?

  Her father and Jillian and Syd had flown down with Carrie and Sebastian and the baby for Christmas. Her father and Jillian had stayed. They were all still under heavy guard at Houghton’s, much to Mel’s consternation.

  Somehow she was managing to avoid Houghton, even in the house they all shared. Of course, it was a huge house. Plenty of places for Mel to hide when she wanted.

  Brynna thought Houghton was having fun tracking her down every night before bed.

  Jillian had had to go back to work, or she was going to lose her job. Brynna understood it. Their lives couldn’t be put on hold while the TSP searched for Charles Raymund.

  Life had to go on. And that meant she needed to speak with Chance. Somehow.


  The only way she was going to be able to contact him was through his brother, wasn’t it? Unless she found some other way to track a man who prided himself on being untraceable.

  What did she really know about him? Three days together under extreme circumstances meant absolutely nothing, didn’t it? They’d talked, they’d laughed together, they’d even argued several times—Chance was very stubborn, and they’d had sex. Eight times. She’d never had sex that much in her life.

  There were a lot of things she’d never quite understood before recent events, were there?

  “I promise, kid, that I won’t screw this up for us. Ok?” She’d started talking to the baby when she was alone. She’d read that babies recognized their mother’s voices early.

  Sometimes she thought it had to be a girl. Other times a little boy just like his father had been.

  How was she going to do it? Tell everyone?

  Oh by the way, Daddy, you’re going to be a grandfather for the third time. Just a few short months after Carrie’s baby is born. Remember those days I was lost in the woods with Chance Marshall...well...

  Somehow Brynna suspected that probably wasn’t the best way to tell him.

  She really should tell Chance first.

  That was the right thing to do.

  As much as this baby was hanging out in her body, it was just as much Chance’s baby as hers.

  She took one last look at the house that had been her dream for nearly a decade and turned away. She reached out with one hand and closed her laptop. It was time to end the old dreams, wasn’t it?

  Brynna was growing different dreams now.

  * * *

  SHE tried not to let the hurt show to those around her, but it was obvious Mel knew. Her sister was angry on her behalf, but she wasn’t saying anything bad about Chance. Which Brynna appreciated. She wasn’t sure whether he’d left to escape her or because he was tracking Houghton’s father.

  It had been easier for her and Mel and Houghton to just not talk about Handley when they were all together. Brynna spent most of her time hiding out in the suite he’d given her. It had light blue walls and a view of the back gardens. It was absolutely beautiful, and he was doing his best to make her completely comfortable while she was there. She was pretty certain Mel was going to stay with Houghton when it was all over with. And that was how it should be.

  Her sister and Houghton were weird, though. Mel did her best to avoid him during the day, but as soon as he looked at her at night, Mel practically melted. Houghton had taken to stalking her around his house and kissing her whenever Mel would least expect it. Brynna was keeping score. So far Mel had eluded him thirty-two times. Houghton had caught her sister forty-seven.

  It was her only source of entertainment as the days past, until her family arrived for Christmas. There was no sign—or word—from Chance in all of that time.

  Gabby visited sometimes; Elliot would drop her off on his way in to the TSP. They’d work on the next big project—they were going to do something not law enforcement related this time. Brynna was thinking a video game—Mel had agreed to help them with the storyline. It was going to be the first project Mel had ever worked on with them.

  When not working on that, Brynna was holing up in her suite going over the TSP files she’d duplicated before Benny had died.

  Charles Raymund and Handley Barratt and Benny were in there somewhere. There was a connection and she was going to find it.

  Finally, two days after the New Year, she did.

  It wasn’t a thick file. It was less than five pages, just a witness statement and two police reports. A report of an aggressive man at a bar and a twenty-two year old woman. The report had been made six months before Brynna was born.

  Her father had been the assisting officer, his partner Minton had been the lead on the case. And the perpetrator had been Charles Raymund.

  That was it.

  She printed three copies; she’d give one to Elliot that evening at the dinner they were having at his home, one to Mel—who she suspected was doing her own digging, by using Houghton’s access to his father’s files—and fax one to her father.

  Maybe they could make something out of it.

  She pushed the laptop she was working at away. She was done. So done giving these monsters her life and energy. She wanted her new normal and it was time she went after it.

  Brynna was tired of letting life happen to her. Wasn’t that what Mel meant whenever she’d told Brynna to go after what she wanted?

  Well, now she wanted safety and security and a good life for her baby. She wanted her baby to have his or her father, but if that wasn’t going to happen, then the baby would have her father.

  And the baby would no doubt have Elliot, no matter how awkward Brynna would find the entire situation. The baby would have Gabby and Mel and Carrie and Jilly and Syd, too.

  They would have a life again. Her and the baby.

  Even if they had to stay right there under armed guards for the next few years, no matter where or what situation she found herself in, her baby would have a normal. She’d learn to bake cookies—Mel would no doubt be willing to teach her. She’d learn to change diapers and give her baby a bath and feed the baby and everything else a mother was supposed to do.

  She’d be a good mother, she’d do everything she had to in order to make that a reality.

  She had almost two million dollars sitting in the Finley Creek Valley Bank. That would go a long way to making that normal for her baby, wouldn’t it?

  She’d talk to Elliot later that evening. She had no doubt that he knew exactly where his brother was. She’d find him.

  Tell him. If he wanted to be involved, then fine. They’d plan together how they wanted to do it.

  If he didn’t want that big of a string then she and the baby would be just fine.

  They would be just fine.

  She turned away from her laptop and toward the little present Mel had slipped into her room while she’d been sleeping.

  The blanket was lilac and teal and light green and oh so very tiny. Mel was really good at knitting and crocheting; she’d practiced even more when Carrie had been pregnant with Maddie. It was just another sign that her baby would be just fine. Her baby would have a normal.

  CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE.

  * * *

  GABBY was gushing to Mel about wedding dresses and bridesmaids dresses and flowers and making a total goob out of herself. Brynna listened with half an ear—just to make certain Gabby didn’t put her in a bright yellow dress or something—but her thoughts were more on what she needed to say to Elliot.

  He looked like his brother. The eyes were different. Elliot wasn’t quite as lean as Chance. Chance was harder, faster. If Elliot was a strong leopard, Chance would be a huge black panther. Both were equally as deadly and from the same family, but panthers were just more dangerous because you couldn’t see them coming. That was Chance.

  Elliot was in the kitchen of the house that had once been his parents. It was weird to Brynna to be there again. It hadn’t changed much since she was a child, though the living room and family room had all been hurriedly redecorated before Gabby moved in for the first time.

  Who could blame her? Brynna had watched the video of the Marshall family murders enough times to be able to return the living room to the exact decorations it had had back then. What hell it must be for Gabby.

  But she and Elliot were determined to fill the house with love again. Erase as many of the bad memories as they could.

  They had left Chance’s room alone, though. Sara and Slade’s were being redecorated next month. While Gabby and Elliot were away on their honeymoon.

  The kitchen had been recently repainted and Brynna was careful to check for fumes before she went in. She couldn’t tell Elliot that she couldn’t be in his kitchen.

  Well, she could always say that she was sensitive to the smells, right?

  Sometimes sensory issues had their uses. No matter how dishonest s
he’d think that was.

  Elliot looked up when she entered. “Hey Bryn. What can I get for you? We have soda, beer, water, milk, lemonade...In the fridge. Just help yourself.”

  Brynna grabbed the water. “Thank you. I have a question.”

  “What is it?”

  She pulled in a deep breath. Now or never. “I need to speak with your brother about something. Do you know how I can reach him?”

  “I have a number. But he’ll be here tomorrow for the TSP inquiry. If you want to speak with him face to face. Or is it something I can help with?”

  “No. It is personal. I’ll wait until tomorrow. I hate talking on the phone.” And telling someone they were going to be a father wasn’t something a decent woman did over the phone. Unless she had no other options.

  That wasn’t the case here. She could wait one more day.

  “Ok. Brynna, it’s over, you know?”

  Her and Chance. Yeah, she had a good inkling it was. But the consequences were definitely still there. “I know.”

  “We’re still looking for Handley Barratt, but the man who attacked you and my brother, we know who he is. And where he is.”

  “We don’t have Raymund.” They had tips that Raymund was in Mexico. Just like Handley Barratt.

  “The Mexican authorities are pretty certain we do.”

  “We’ll need to put it all together. Find all the connections. I’ve only been able to go so far.”