I glare at her. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.” She throws her hands at me and doesn’t look remorseful for calling the woman who gave birth to me a criminal. “I’m totally serious. I just need to find my shoes in all the shit first.”
“You’re not going.” I raise my voice so she can hear me since she’s already disappeared into the disaster zone that will soon be our bedroom. I say that even though I know she’ll get her way. I can’t deny her anything.
“I can’t find my shoes. Dammit! Don’t you dare leave without me, Trig Barrett. It’ll be our first fight. I promise you, I will win, even if I have to get in my car and follow you there.”
It only took a couple of hours for me to get an email from Pettit with a file attached the size of an affidavit on a serial killer. It included everything I needed to know about the doctors my mother worked for.
Al Toussaint and Tommie Endo are worth a fucking mint and it didn’t all come from practicing medicine. Long hours and demanding patient loads suck their time, I shouldn’t be surprised they wanted my mom to move in with them after I left for California. Their daughter, Rino Endo Toussaint, sounds like she took after her adoptive parents rather than the biological idiot of a father we share. After attending the most prestigious private schools in Dallas, she went to Yale and even studied abroad at Oxford. Besides that, he couldn’t find any more on her.
My father made another run by their estate. This can’t wait—I need to warn them.
And I might as well find out what I can about my sister while I’m at it.
Trying not to think about the secret sibling I don’t know because my mother kept her from me, I stuff my wallet and fob into my pockets and cross my arms. When Ellie comes running back out, she’s holding a pair of pink flip flops, her hair is just as much of a mess as it was earlier, and she’s makeup free, exactly the way I prefer her. Even so, I don’t lie when I state, “You know, you still look like you could be in college—maybe even your senior year of high school. You’re gonna make me look like a dirty old man.”
My angel rolls her eyes as she tosses her shoes to the floor and wiggles her feet into them. “Whatever. And I can’t find shit in there. But I did put on a bra.”
“I know,” I add. “I can see it.”
“I don’t tell you what ties to wear—give me a break.”
“You can tell me what to wear all you want. In fact, I need to go shopping. Now that Griffin is in my life, my shit needs to be dry cleaned five times as often.”
A smile warms her face, showing me nothing makes her happier than me covered in baby goop, even if it’s my custom suits. “Maybe your sister will be there. Maybe we’ll get to meet her!”
I hold my hand out. “Let’s go before it gets too late to ring someone’s door on a Sunday night, informing them an ex-convict is casing their house and that person is your child’s biological father. Oh, and that I’m their daughter’s older brother. What the fuck could go wrong?”
She bounces on her rubber shoes and lays a quick one on my lips. “Don’t be such a downer. It’s gonna be great!”
With that, she grabs her chapstick off the counter and she’s out the door before me.
Every day, she’s more and more like her old self and there’s one thing for certain. My life with Ellie will never be boring.
* * *
Ellie
Holding hands, Trig and I walk up the long path to the front door of one of the largest and most impressive homes in Highland Park, and that’s saying something since everything in Highland Park is impressive.
“My old house could be this house’s pool house,” I whisper even though there’s no one around to hear us.
“The house we’re moving into could be this house’s storage shed,” he mutters back.
I give his hand a squeeze. “I love our house.”
“I do, too. I’d lose you in this fucker. I’m also surprised we didn’t have to swim through a moat with crocs snapping at our asses to get to the front door.”
“Oh, I bet they know—” but I don’t have a chance to finish what I’m saying because I’m right. They must have security coming out the ying-yang because one of the enormous front doors opens and an older, yet fit and healthy-looking man, stands at the threshold.
No sooner do we have a chance to climb up the grand steps to him, does he greet Trig. “Easton. It’s good to see you.
Trig offers his right hand while still holding mine. “Dr. Toussaint.”
He offers me a small smile before looking back to Trig. “You can call me Aleron. Heck, you can even call me Mr. A. Your mother did.”
“This is Ellie. She’s my,” Trig starts and hesitates, glancing over at me before finishing, “we’ll be married soon.”
I feel my eyes go big. “Is that your proposal? Because if so, it sucked. But I accept.”
Trig narrows his eyes on me.
“Ellie Montgomery,” Aleron drawls. “Faye mentioned you a time or two.”
I pull my hand away from the man I’m going to marry to greet the infamous doctor. “It’s nice to meet you.”
It’s late in the evening and the sun has already disappeared behind the horizon, daylight quickly disintegrating in its wake as we walk through the grand entryway, following Aleron into a room at the front of the house. I thought I grew up in luxury. This is what you would call royalty, Texas-style, but with no cowhides or original horse paintings. This place is straight-up fancy … fancy ass with a capital A.
But I’m not looking for a Van Gogh or Monet. Nope. I’m looking for family pictures—snapshots, formal portraits … at this point, my eager curiosity will accept anything.
But there’s nothing.
Nothing but fancy-ass shit, which makes me really glad Griffin isn’t here because Trig does not exaggerate—he’s always sticky. But he’s a baby. Aren’t all babies sticky? I wonder what it was like for Trig’s sister to grow up in such a palace. I can’t imagine she and Trig could have anything in common.
“How are you doing, Easton? It’s been about a month since your mother passed. She was very much a part of our small family. Tommie and I miss her every day.”
“I’m good. We’re moving into her house,” Trig answers.
He smiles and sits across from us. “I’m sure that would make her very happy.”
Trig clears his throat. “I’m not sure how to start. My mother was with you a very long time. You helped her with her divorce—I’m sure you know of my father.”
Aleron answers quickly but efficiently, studying my future husband like he would a brain tumor he’s trying to decide how to eradicate. “I do.”
Trig must sense it too, because he gets down to business. “He’s out of jail.”
Controlled and steady, I’m sure from years of experience in the operating room, Aleron doesn’t miss a beat. “I see. I appreciate you informing me of this. Please don’t take this the wrong way because it’s good to see Faye’s son, but why did you come here to tell me this?”
“He’s been staking out your street. I have a tracker on his car and have hired a private investigator to follow him.”
Aleron’s jaw goes taut, finally exhibiting a human reaction, something to tell us he’s bothered by this like he should be. “And do you have an idea of why he’d be interested in this street?”
Trig doesn’t have a chance to answer, because from somewhere deep in the manor, we hear voices. All of a sudden, Aleron isn’t calm or steady. He’s alert and tense, standing in a rush and moving to the far end of the room that we didn’t enter from. Aleron’s tone isn’t calm or welcoming when he yells, “Tommie, we have company. Faye’s son is here.”
The voices get closer and louder but it’s hard to make out what they’re saying because they’re arguing. Some moms, whys, stops, and nos rise above the jumbled words that have become an argument.
“Tommie,” Aleron yells again and starts out the door and I grab Trig’s forearm.
“But I want to meet Fa
ye’s son since you wouldn’t let me go to the funeral.”
What?
I gasp.
Trig’s face swings around to me, his eyes searching mine.
Shit. It can’t be.
“Dad, I’ve wanted to meet him forever. Faye talked about him all the time—”
There’s another gasp in the room and this time it’s not mine.
It’s hers.
30
Sentimental
I hate that show about hoarding. There’s nothin’ wrong with keepin’ stuff that means somethin’.
Ellie
After I lost the baby and was in the hospital, Trig didn’t leave me for two days. He stayed by my side, he slept by me and he put up with my family. It didn’t matter how much my father demanded, how much my mother cried, or how much Jen begged our parents to leave us alone, he never wavered.
When he kissed me goodbye and promised to be back in an hour, I had no idea that would be it. That my own father would threaten me by threatening Trig. I didn’t know which hurt worse at the time, losing Trig or what my own father did to me.
It might not be on the same scale or have the same ramifications, but when someone you trust betrays you, it hurts nonetheless.
If this scene had a set of lungs, by the look on her face and that of her parents’, it would be screaming from the hilltops.
“Oh shit,” she gasps.
“Oh shit is right, Quinn,” I bite back, her name tumbling off my lips like a curse.
I look between her and her parents as my brain circles and spins, trying to reason why this would make sense. The woman standing beside her is small and petite. With her sleek dark hair, warm skin, and beautiful black eyes, the woman, who must be Dr. Tommie Endo, appears confused but in a different way than I am.
She looks to the young woman I’ve called my office manager, and most recently, friend, asking, “Do you know them?”
Aleron doesn’t look confused. He turns angry and it’s rolling off him in spades. “You know them?”
Trig puts a hand up and tries to be a calming force. “Wait a second, now.”
I don’t wait, I can’t. I take a step forward, but this time Trig is the one who has to catch my arm to hold me back, doing a much better job than I did. “She works for me.” I look to my office manager and wonder who in the universe I can believe anymore. “If your name is even Quinn Bowers. If you’re their daughter, we know your name is Rino.”
“Bowers? Who in the hell is Bowers?” Her father loses all control and swings his glare back to me. “And how do you know her given name?”
My employee opens her eyes and they implore mine. “It’s Quinn. I swear. I’ve never gone by Rino. It’s a family name.”
I bring my hands up to my messy hair and shake my head. “Please tell me this is a coincidence. That you had no idea who Trig was before I hired you and you decided to give me a fake name for shits and giggles.”
Quinn frowns and throws her hand out toward Trig, who’s now holding me around the waist, pressing his front to my back. “What does he have to do with it? I only applied for the job because of you.”
Trig’s arm goes tight around my middle and he demands, “What about her?”
“You work for her? You told us you were volunteering at the counseling center at the women’s shelter,” Aleron growls.
“Al.” Tommie looks to her husband, and I swear, she’s paled. She shakes her head and her voice is weak when she has to reach out to hang on to the wingback chair the color of a ghost, which is fitting, since it matches her new complexion. “I knew this would happen.”
Trig ignores them all and raises his voice. “Why in the hell did you apply for a job just because of Ellie?”
Quinn’s blue eyes shift between us and her parents, landing on her mother with remorse and pure guilt. “I’m sorry, Mom. So sorry. When Faye got sick, I was upset. She was so sick and couldn’t even communicate anymore. I went into her suite where she and I would hang out at night before you both would get home from your rounds. There were still some of her things in there. She was gone, I didn’t think there would be any harm in going through them … and I found a letter.”
“Shit,” her father spits and looks to his wife. “You were supposed to get rid of everything.”
“I did,” she cries. “Faye must have dug it out of the trash. You know how sentimental she was. She kept everything.”
“Please don’t be mad at Faye,” Quinn pleads, as if Faye was in the room and her feelings would be hurt. “You always told me my parents weren’t capable of caring for me. But if I have other family out there, I want to know them.”
“That’s why we’re here,” I say. “So you can get to know Trig … and he you.”
Quinn’s frown digs deeper this time and she shakes her head. “Why do you keep saying that? I want to know you.”
“This makes no sense.” Trig lets me go from his hold and moves in front of me. “All I know is I trust no one, not when everyone around Ellie has been after her in some form or another. What in the hell do you want with her?”
“The note…” Quinn looks back to her parents. “I’m a Montgomery, right?”
I reach out for Trig. There’s no way.
31
Dead Women
History is important. Set it free.
Ellie
“No.” Trig reaches for me but doesn’t take his eyes off Quinn. “We found my mother’s journals. You’re a Barrett.”
“No,” Tommie echoes, but her’s isn’t a rebuke—it’s a plea. She sits in the chair she was using for balance just moments ago and her face falls to her hands. “This can’t be happening.”
“The letter I found was from my mother,” Quinn explains as a sob wracks from Tommie’s body. Quinn goes to her and puts a hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, Mom. My birth mother.” She looks back to Trig. “What do you mean, I’m a Barrett?”
Aleron steps between his daughter and us and puts a hand up to Trig, demanding, “You’ve done enough. Leave. We need time alone with our daughter.”
Trig ignores him. “We found one of my mother’s journals. She found you with a note, probably the one you’re talking about—”
“Stop!” Tommie cries.
“For the love of God, get out of my house,” Aleron thunders.
Trig ignores them both and keeps speaking to Quinn. “My mom said you’re a Barrett. She was very clear about it and that’s why she brought you here. My father is an evil man and she didn’t want another child subjected to him.”
Quinn’s face falls and she looks to her parents. “You said my birth parents were dead.”
Tommie sobs into her hands and her husband tries to move for his daughter. “Sweetheart, it was for the best. Faye brought you to us for a reason.”
“No!” she pulls away from her father and looks back to Trig. “We share a father?”
Trig pauses. “According to my mother, yes. You’re my sister—half-sister, but sister all the same.”
Quinn—my sweet new friend—her face falls and I almost see the news sink into her features. Her father starts to reach for her again but she pulls back and shakes her head. “But the note … it didn’t say anything about my father. All it said was she couldn’t do it and she never wanted a baby and she didn’t want to catch shit from the Montgomerys. It was signed Silvie. It took, like, two google searches and I found a Silva Montgomery that was found dead soon after my birthday.” She looks to me. “Am I wrong?”
“Oh, shit.” It’s my turn to be shocked. I look from Quinn to Trig. “The dates … they make sense.”
“He’s alive?” Quinn pins Trig with her eyes—eyes I’m ashamed to say I didn’t recognize, but now it’s as clear as a spring, sunny morning. Hers are the same beautiful light tone as Trig’s—blue and crystal and a stark contrast to her coloring which is similar to Jen and my dad … and if memory serves from old pictures, my Aunt Silvie. “My father is alive?”
Trig exhales and looks to hi
s younger sister. And for the first time since we got here, he softens his tone. “Yes, but he’s not anyone you want to know. Trust me.”
She shakes her head. “But you don’t know what it’s like to wonder where you came from. I’ve wondered since I was old enough for those thoughts to run through my head.” She looks to her parents, tears leaking from her beautiful blue eyes. “You lied to me. You told me you’d never lie to me. And Faye lied to me, too?”
Tommie stands, hemorrhaging desperation as she tries to explain to her daughter. “We did what we did because it was for the best—to protect you. Faye begged us to help.” She looks to Trig. “She said she could barely protect you from your father and she couldn’t take care of another baby and work at the same time. I think you were eight. She couldn’t bear the burden of raising another child on her own and we tried and failed for years to have a baby. I had miscarriage after miscarriage. We might’ve helped Faye but she gave us the most precious gift.” She turns to her daughter and her pain is evident. “You have to understand. We did what we did because we love you.”
Quinn shakes her head and backs up when her mother lifts a gentle hand for her, one I can tell has bared nothing but love. “No. There was a time you could have told me the truth. You knew how much I wanted to know about where I came from.” She points to me as she starts to yell at her parents, a side I’ve never seen from her. “You kept that from me. Did you think I’d stop loving you? I have cousins, an aunt and uncle,” she pauses and looks to Trig and her eyes turn wild with emotion. “I have a brother! I could have had them in my life but you were selfish and strict and kept me bottled up in private schools and music lessons and foreign languages and … and—just everything!”
Broken Halo: The Montgomery Series, Book 2 Page 27