“Sorry to piss you off more,” Trig adds, though not at all contrite. “But it’s true.”
I shake my head. “I don’t blame you. And it doesn’t piss me off. My dad thinks he can rule his kingdom with a heavy hand. Well, he might have, but not anymore. Jen is making sure of it. Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to pick our parents?”
Trig doesn’t find any humor in my offhand comment because his face doesn’t crack when he states, “Your father might be an ass and I’m not giving him a break, but it could always be worse.”
Shit. Just when I gained an inch of comfort, he brings up the past and tosses it at my feet. I bite my lip and look away from him because it’s etched into his face—the pain and the anger and the loss. I’d know it anywhere.
I move to the island and blindly flip through my mail for something meaningless to focus on. “Your times up, tough guy. Get out of my house.”
He moves, his fancy dress shoes connecting with the wood in confidence and purpose, and not toward the exit to take him far, far away. When they stop, he doesn’t touch me, but I feel him at my back—not only his heat but his presence. I squeeze my eyes shut and grip the edge of the marble, begging my body and heart not to react.
I jerk when he touches me, just one finger sliding across my bare shoulders and back, dragging my messy hair with it. My skin tingles under his touch, one that feels so different than the other day in my office when he practically restrained me like a wild animal. My words catch on a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Shh.” His hush tickles my temple and I tense, waiting for … something. Another touch, his warmth, his lips…
Shit.
What’s up with the change in him? He’s making this too hard. I’d rather him hate me than us be in this weird twilight zone that I don’t comprehend. I’m not sure I can take it—not with Trig. Feeling anything insipid when it comes to him isn’t possible.
“Trig—”
“Here,” he murmurs, so close to my ear, his word brushes my skin at the same time cool metal tickles my collarbone. “She’d want you to have this.”
I bring my hand up to my neck and choke on my tears in an instant. It’s the gold crescent I gave Faye for Christmas last year. She wore it every time I saw her after that, until she got too sick to get herself up and dressed every day. That’s when everything went downhill and I totally forgot about the necklace because the gravity of life overtook everything.
Trig fastens it at the back of my neck and traces the gold against my skin, but that’s all I get. My tears leak through my lids for my friend who’s gone, for Trig who lost his mom, and I can’t lie, for everything that never was.
He drops his face into the side of my head, burying himself in my hair, inhaling deeply.
“My time’s up,” he whispers there and I have to bite my lip to hold back a sob.
Breathing in one more time, he doesn’t say any more. I lose his touch, his warmth, and, most importantly, his presence—something I’m allowing myself to get used to.
Leaving me, I hear my front door open and shut without another word.
And he’s gone.
I clutch Faye’s pendant in my fist until its points dig into my skin, pinching and piercing. I need that—the pain—as a reminder.
And I’ve got to get Trig out of my head. I have enough to deal with right now. I don’t need him playing with my emotions. He can’t hate me and then give me hints of who he once was.
My heart can’t take it.
* * *
Trig
“You’re sure he’s heading here?”
“Positive.” Charlie sounds like he’s in a tin can so he must be at the prison. “I’ve got a friend who works at the county jail and is friends with his parole officer. Ray Barrett got a transfer to the DFW area. Claimed he has family there, a place to live, and a job lined up.”
“Fuck,” I hiss as I turn off my Merc and open the door.
“Yeah, fuck,” Charlie chirps, like it’s no skin off his back, which it isn’t, but I don’t need his commentary. “Your dad’s on the straight and narrow. Far as I can tell, he’s doin’ it all by the book.”
I’m done with Charlie’s services. My father heading back here isn’t good and I need someone local. One more thing for me to add to my list for Pettit. I’m not going to tell Charlie yet because I don’t need him selling me out. “Keep checking with your sources. I want to know if his plans change.”
“Righty-ho, boss.”
Fuck me, I’ll be glad when he’s officially off my payroll.
I slam my door shut and beep the locks where I parked next to Ellie’s Lexus.
It was fucking hard to leave her last night after I slipped my mother’s necklace around her neck. Watching her silent tears was a feat I’m surprised I managed. I went straight home and hit the gym to work that shit out of my system. I needed to get away from Ellie as fast as possible so I didn’t push her too far too soon.
Guilt, anger, and lust.
It’s a heady concoction, and right now, I need to be careful around her.
Sure, I could’ve pulled her into my arms, kissed her tears away, and let it go from there.
But I’d bet my bourbon collection that after that moment was over, she’d regret it and be back to telling me to fuck off and giving me time limits that were shorter than ever.
She once made me believe I was a regret. That will never happen again. When it finally happens, she’ll only want more. I’ll make sure of it.
Until then, I’ve got my work cut out for me.
I’ve had a long day, it’s late, and I’m late. I punch the code into the main entrance of Ellie’s building that Pettit gave me—the code that means everything to Ellie and me—and the door unlocks on cue. I swing it open to find Ellie on her way out.
Her eyes get big when she sees me. She goes from surprised to irritated—my petite little Jekyll and Hyde, transforming right in front of my eyes.
“What are you doing here?” she snaps, all her softness from last night gone.
I rock back on my heels and cross my arms. “Missed you, too, angel.”
Her eyes narrow and she jerks her leather bag over her shoulder violently. “Stop calling me that.”
My eyes drop to her body, today encased in skin-tight workout pants and a pink sports bra that I can see every detail of because the white T-shirt she’s wearing is see through. My mother’s necklace sits at the dip of her neck. Her clothes are covered in dust, her hair couldn’t be messier, and she’s wearing no makeup. All this put together, she couldn’t look more comfortable in her own skin and is fucking beautiful at the same time.
“What do you want me to call you? I’m up for suggestions.”
“Don’t call me anything,” she insists. “Don’t call me at all. Don’t come to my house and don’t come here.”
“Aren’t you the narcissistic one? I’m not here to see you.”
Her brow puckers. “Why are you here then?”
“I have a meeting with Eli, which I’m late for, and since he stayed to see me, I need to get going.”
“Why are you meeting with Eli?”
“There you go again, thinking everything’s about you, which it’s not. For once,” I verbally prod. I might need to kiss her ass, but I’m definitely going to do it on my terms. And there’s no way I’m telling her what my meeting is about. She, of all people, does not need to be worrying about my father.
“Well. Yay, me.” She exhales and actually looks relieved, which she wouldn’t be if she knew the truth. “I guess I’ll see you in court.”
“You might want to take a shower,” I suggest, making her glare and I have to work at keeping my smirk at bay. “Right now, you look like a weed-smoking-workout-fanatic. I can take you shopping if you need me to—I’ve had to do it before. Mostly when I was donating my time as a public defender in Orange County.”
She looks taken aback. “You were a public defender?”
“No. I was a defense att
orney. I served on a panel and donated my time to those who couldn’t afford it. I’ve bought a lot of suits off the racks for my clients. If I need to take you to Walmart, let me know.”
She knows I’m giving her shit and rolls her eyes.
“And,” I add, “make sure your bra isn’t hanging out. Just because I like it, doesn’t mean the judge will. You definitely don’t want to look like a bra-flashing-weed-smoking-workout-fanatic.”
Her face almost cracks into something besides constant annoyance, but she’s still hanging onto it by a fraying thread. Instead she tips her head and states, “I know how to make a good impression.”
“Looking forward to that, angel.” I glance at my watch. “Now I’m really late. You have a good night.”
“Yeah,” she mumbles as I move around her to get to Pettit’s office.
I take the stairs two at a time and call back down to her. “Maybe I’ll bump into you tomorrow. Can’t wait to see what bra you’re wearing.”
I don’t look back, but I do hear her push the door open with more force than necessary.
When I enter Statum Security and Investigations, Eli is at the desk in the lobby looking at his phone.
“Sorry I’m late,” I apologize and offer him my hand. “You can thank your fiancée. She’s a slave driver.”
“Don’t I know it. I’ve got information on your dad and on Ellie’s in-laws. Which do you want first?”
He’s in a hurry to get this done and I am, too. “Does it matter? I’m sure neither are good.”
He tips his head and slides a file that’s sitting on the desk my way. “Depends. I think all information is good news because it’s more than we knew before. Let’s start with Ellie. The Kettemans have booked flights to Dallas. They’ll be landing in the Lone Star State tomorrow night.”
I flip open the file to read over his notes and their itinerary. “Interesting that they’re coming for a visit now when Ellie is having legal issues.”
“Exactly my thought,” he confirms my fears and flips over the first paper, pointing to the next page. “They’ve also been in constant contact with this number. I ran it and it’s a burner phone. The drawback of being a PI and not a federal agent is I can’t tap a line or ping it. Not legally anyway.”
I look up and hitch a brow, wondering if he’s capable and willing to tap it in an illegal way.
“Sorry.” He shakes his head. “But I am going to have the Kettemans followed while they’re in our backyard. Has Ellie had any additional contact with them?”
I pick up the paper and study the details. “Not that I know of, but I barely have contact with her, so you never know.”
“Yeah, Jen told me about you two.”
Without moving my head, I angle my eyes to his with an annoyed glance before flipping through the rest of the file. I have nothing to say to him about Ellie and me. “What else?”
“They’ve also been in contact with a local attorney.”
I give him my full attention this time. “No shit?”
“I would not shit you. It’s in the paperwork.”
I flip farther through the file. “I’ll look into the firm.”
He tosses another stack of papers in front of me. “Now, your dad. Ray Barrett has a Tarrant County parole officer assigned to him. I’ve got an in there and am waiting on a call back. I should have an address and place of employment soon, if he has either.”
I run my hand through my hair and shake my head. “I won’t need a home address. I know where he’s going.”
Eli lifts a brow.
“The property across from the Montgomery ranch. It’s where I grew up, but trust me, it doesn’t compare. It’s a shithole.”
Eli nods. “I’ll look into it. That might make things easier. I can use Kipp’s property to put up cameras if you want eyes on him coming and going.”
“Cameras would be good. Add it to my bill.”
“No bill.” He picks up a backpack and swings it over his shoulder. “This is for Ellie.”
I shake my head. “You’re just getting started and I’m used to paying for information. You can bill me.”
“My client list is growing. Trust me, I’m good. You and I don’t know each other well, but after what I saw the other day between you and Ellie on top of what Jen’s told me, I’ve gotta ask, does she know Ray Barrett is on his way back to town?”
I grab the files and turn for the door because this is something I not only don’t want to talk about, it makes me fucking sick to my stomach.
“Trig?”
I stop and turn back to look at him but don’t answer.
He raises a brow. “You’re not going to tell her?”
I shake my head. “My shit with Ellie is complicated.”
He exhales. “I know.”
“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell Jen because it’ll go straight to Ellie,” I add.
He shakes his head. “That, I won’t do.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. Why would he keep a secret for me from the woman he’s going to marry? “I need time. I’ll tell her but I need to get to a place where she quits cussing at me first.”
A smile creeps from his eyes, and fuck me, he’s amused. “I’ll give you a day.”
Dammit. “I need at least a week.”
He shakes his head and now I know he’s amused because he all but laughs at me. “I know Ellie and suspect you need more than a week but I’m still only going to give you a day. And when Jen finds out I kept it from her for that long, I’ll pay for it. Be grateful for the twenty-four hours.”
“Shit,” I mutter, turning for the door and stairs. I’m a fucking attorney and negotiate for a living, but there’s no way I was going to win that.
“Good luck,” he calls but I don’t look back when he adds, “you’re gonna need it.”
I pull out my phone and cue up the text string that has more fucks than any other in the history of the cell phone.
Pettit is not wrong. At this point, I need all the luck I can get.
14
Hate and Love
I feel sorry for those with an apathetic heart. I want to live and feel everything—all the good and all the bad.
Ellie
I walk into the kitchen to find Chloe and Griffin sitting on the floor in the family room as he snacks on raisins while she points to pictures in a book. When he sees me, he drops his bowl, pushes out of her lap, and starts to race to me on all fours at a pace that could win him a blue ribbon at the Puppy Bowl.
“Hi, baby.” My first real smile since I left him this morning breaks across my face and I dump my bags to reach for him. Tossing him up in the air before I blow a raspberry into his neck, he tries to eat my nose as he belly-laughs. I peek around to look at Chloe. “How was your afternoon?”
She walks over to her bag. “Great. He took a long nap. I can tell he’s feeling so much better.”
I give him a bounce. “He is. And he’s so much happier here than with me at the studio. He can’t crawl around there with all the construction. And he loves you.”
“The feeling is mutual.” She gives us a warm smile. “What time tomorrow?”
“You can take tomorrow off. I’m working from home.”
“Sounds good.” She reaches over and gives Griff’s bare foot a tickle. “See you in a couple days, little man.”
We walk Chloe to the door and my phone dings with a text. I look at Griffin who’s chewing on his fingers. He must be getting another tooth. “I bet that’s your Aunt Jen. What do you think?”
After I get Griffin settled, I dig in my bag for my phone. My stomach drops when I see his name.
Again.
I swear, he’s everywhere.
I open up his text.
Trig: I wonder how many FUCKs are on this thread.
Well, at least no one is here to see me, because I smile. That’s sort of funny.
Me: I’m glad you texted. I’m in need of legal representation. Can you get me a restraining order aga
inst my attorney?
Trig: I hear your attorney’s the shit. No judge would grant that.
I sigh. Falling into anything normal with Trig is not what I need.
Me: What do you want?
Trig: You mean, what the FUCK do I want? You’re off your game.
I bite my lip as I walk into the pantry to start dinner.
Me: Fine. What the FUCK do you want?
Trig: I’m going through my mom’s stuff. Since you two had a secret friendship-affair behind my back, I thought if there was anything of hers you wanted, you could come over and grab it.
I sit down on the floor with Griffin and he comes crawling like he always does. Trying to gather my thoughts, I’m grateful he asked me this over text and not where he could see my reaction.
Me: You already gave me the necklace.
Trig: Ellie. My mom was a packrat. Come and pick a few things.
Me: But I have Griffin.
Trig: Bring him.
I look up at Griff. “Should we go to your Mimi Faye’s house?”
Griff and I haven’t been to Faye’s together for a while, but my baby likes the word go and gets excited.
Trig: Come on. I’ll pick up dinner and you can cuss at me all night. It’ll be the most fun you’ve had in months.
“What am I doing?” I ask my baby. He jabbers and claps his hands, I think telling me to get over myself and go take all the things of Faye’s that Trig will allow.
Me: Okay, I guess. But I’m covered in dust and haven’t showered.
I see bubbles and then nothing.
Bubbles again and finally a message pops up.
Trig: Dust means you’ve worked hard. See you in thirty.
I don’t answer. I can’t. I’m afraid I’ll cancel and I really want something of Faye’s. I can’t help but bring my hand up to finger the charm at the base of my neck that Trig put there last night.
Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 13