Page 47 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

ELLIE

Trace’s house was teeming with people. More than he’d likely ever had in the Craftsman bungalow Shep had modernized.

Sheriff’s department officials were in and out as Nora energized them with endless coffee, cookies, and other snacks.

The entire Colson crew was there, too, apart from Luca, who was at a friend’s for a sleepover, and Keely, whom Leah had agreed to take for the night after some initial annoyance at a change in the parenting schedule.

It was all one giant haze. Like an impressionist-style painting I’d see at The Met or MoMA.

People were only blurs of shapes and colors as they moved in and out of the space.

I was aware of Trace’s proximity only by his scent.

And my brother’s by his occasionally raised voice, which Arden tried to soothe and quiet.

Someone crouched in front of me. I had to blink a few times to register Trace’s face. His hands slid from my knees to my thighs, a steady pressure bringing me back. “Do you think you’re ready to talk things through with Gabriel?”

My gaze shifted from Trace’s face to register just how many people were there.

Nora and Sutton hovered in the dining room, looking on nervously and both wearing aprons, caretaking via food as was built into their DNA.

Cope moved to Sutton’s side, pressing a kiss to her temple and whispering words in her ear.

Shep and Thea were curled up in an overstuffed chair near the doors leading to Trace’s backyard.

Shep had been sticking close since they’d arrived, and I could see how he watched her now, checking in and making sure she was all right.

Guilt pricked at me, knowing she’d been the recipient of her own violating photos and threats.

And while different than this, my circumstances had likely brought up memories.

Rhodes busied herself arranging flowers on the dining table as if brightening the space would solve all the problems, while her boyfriend, Anson, spoke with Gabriel in the entryway. They used hushed tones, but their worried expressions gave far too much away.

Kye and Fallon spoke in quiet tones also, tucked away in a far corner of the living room.

Kye sporadically tugged a hand through his hair, jerking the dark strands with every movement, until Fallon finally gripped his hand and squeezed tightly.

Her dark blue gaze locked with his and held firm, speaking words only he seemed to understand.

But Linc wasn’t quiet or calm. He stalked back and forth across the space, his footsteps angry as if taking out all his rage on the floorboards of Trace’s house. Arden looked on, worry seeping into her features.

“Ellie, baby. Can you look at me?” Trace’s too-gentle voice pulled me back. “Do you want me to clear the room while we talk?”

“No.” The word was stronger than I felt.

But I knew what I needed to do. I was so damn tired of the lies and half truths, the shame and the guilt.

If I was going to talk about everything, it’d be better to do it with the people who were becoming my family around.

I didn’t want to hide it from them, and I didn’t want to lie to my brother anymore.

I cleared my throat, feeling like I was shaking off heavy chains that had been with me for far too long. “I want them to stay.”

“Here,” a new voice said, crossing into the living room. Lolli offered me a mug that read World’s Best Dad on the side. “I made you some tea.”

Trace’s head whipped around. “What kind of tea? ”

“Oh, relax.” Lolli waved him off. “Sadly, my poppy tea is at home.”

“You mean your opium tea?” Kye challenged as though searching for any source of humor at the moment.

Lolli made a pshh noise. “Didn’t expect you to be a buzzkill. But this is just plain ole chamomile.” She leaned into me as she placed the mug on the side table. “With a heavy shot of whiskey to soothe the nerves.”

I looked up at her, finding the barest flicker of a smile. “Thank you, Lolli.”

She patted my shoulder, then gave it a good squeeze. “I’ve got your back, honeybunch.”

And I could feel that. From every single member of this patchwork family. They all showed up in good times and bad. They each gave in the unique ways that were their strengths. Together, it gave me the strength to dive into the darkness I needed to.

“I’m ready.”

Trace waited for a beat as if giving me a moment to reconsider. When I didn’t, he stood. “Gabriel. We’re ready.”

Gabriel looked over, ending his conversation with Anson, and then they both started in our direction. Trace settled in the spot next to me on the couch, weaving his fingers through mine, creating a fabric that was stronger together than anything we could create on our own.

Gabriel moved into the space, but instead of hovering over me, he sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table. He placed his phone on it and tapped the screen a few times. “Is it okay if I record this so we don’t have to go over it again?”

“Yes.” My voice sounded rusty, but it was enough.

Anson moved in then, taking a seat in the second overstuffed chair. He was careful not to stare at me, but I felt his gaze finding me in steady intervals as if he were trying to read the meaning behind my every facial expression and movement, his profiler training springing to life.

“Are you okay to begin?” Gabriel asked.

I gripped Trace’s hand harder, my fingers tingling from lack of blood flow, but I didn’t let go. “We can start. ”

Gabriel shifted, pulling out a small notepad and pen. “Can you take me through your day? Everything up until you got home.”

He’d started me off with a softball question, but I appreciated it.

It gave me a chance to steady my voice and my heart rate a minute to slow.

I told him about doing Keely’s hair for school.

My shift at The Mix Up. Thea giving me a ride to the school for the parade, and everything that happened there.

My words slowed when we reached the portion of the day where Trace, Keely, and I had arrived home.

Gabriel looked up from his notepad with a gentle smile on his face. “That’s great. Very helpful. Tell me, did you notice anyone following you? Have there been any encounters at work that were odd or raised any flags? Nothing is too small.”

My mind felt fuzzy, like I was slogging through mud to recall everything.

Trace leaned in, his head dipping so his lips brushed my ear. “Take your time. There’s no rush.”

With his encouragement, I did, but I still came up empty. “There’s nothing. I’ve had a few unpleasant run-ins with people unhappy about the things my father did?—”

“You what?” Linc barked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Arden took his hand, squeezing. “Easy, Cowboy. She doesn’t need your anger, too.”

Linc took a steadying breath and seemed to try to rein himself in. But there was a hint of hurt in his eyes now. “Why didn’t you say anything, El Bell?”

The use of my nickname nearly did me in.

And it was so much worse knowing how much I still had to get through.

“I needed to deal with it on my own. You would’ve had me moving back into Cope’s compound and tried to go with me everywhere I went.

But that’s not a solution. People are mad about what Philip did.

They have a right to be. And I’m figuring out a way to deal with it. ”

A muscle fluttered in his jaw. “If you were living at Cope’s, this wouldn’t have happened.”

I sighed. “Maybe, maybe not. But that was my choice to make. ”

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk a little about your father?”

A nauseating sensation swept through me. “Sure.”

“Are you two in contact?”

I knew Trace had likely already shared the pieces he knew, but I still went over them. “Not really. He tried right after his arrest, and I never accepted his calls. I changed my number recently, and he tried again. That time, I answered.”

My gaze flicked to Linc. His hazel eyes flashed more gold than green as that muscle in his jaw danced. But he held his tongue.

“What did he want?” Gabriel asked, bringing my attention back to him.

My mouth went dry, like all the moisture had evaporated in a single second, leaving me unable to speak. I reached for Lolli’s tea, taking a sip and fighting a wince at the bite of whiskey.

“It’ll put hair on your chest,” Lolli said with a grin, but I saw the uneasiness in her gaze.

“Not sure that’s a goal of mine, but thanks.”

Shep’s lips twitched as he wrapped an arm around Thea, pulling her closer. A few other people chuckled.

I set the cup back on the side table and pulled up my courage. “He wanted me to go back to New York, to Bradley, to that life. I think he still has some unhinged idea that he’ll get out of the mess he’s in and wants me there when he does.”

Images danced in my head, memories of what that life had been like.

Michelin-star dinners with Bradley at restaurants I never liked.

Charity functions with Helen, where I felt like I was constantly judged and found lacking.

Lobster boils at our house in the Hamptons, where my father watched my every move.

Wimbledon with Bradley’s family and my father, where Henrick would bemoan my lack of tennis knowledge.

I was always dancing on a tightrope, trying to keep them all happy. Everyone but me.

Gabriel focused on the notepad as if to give me privacy for his next question. “And how do you feel about that request? ”

“That he can shove it where the sun doesn’t shine. And I told him as much. Just like I told him what a crappy father he was. He couldn’t hear it, but that wasn’t why I told him. I told him for me.”

“That’s my girl,” Lolli cheered. “Stick it to the assholes.”

“Lolli,” Nora hissed.

“Good luck,” Rhodes murmured. “She dipped into the spiked tea.”

“Jesus,” Trace muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose with his free hand.

Gabriel looked up from his notes as he fought a grin. “Can be freeing, letting loose all those feelings.”

“It was.”

“And have you heard from him since?”

“No. I haven’t heard from him at all.”

Gabriel glanced to his right, sharing a silent moment with Anson before returning his focus to me. “And what about your ex-fiancé, Bradley Newbury? Can you walk me through the ending of that relationship and how he took it?”

I stared down at my hands, one still linked with Trace’s, the other balled into a fist, the knuckles bleached white on both.

As much as I wanted to speak the truth in a room full of people who cared about me, I couldn’t take in their faces while I did.

But I told myself that was okay. The important thing was that I spoke, even if my voice shook and I couldn’t look at anything but how Trace’s fingers melded with mine.

“Bradley’s and my relationship was never a good one. I can see it more clearly now. It started small. How he would make his displeasure about certain friends or things I wore known. How there would be little punishments if I didn’t toe the line.”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I swallowed. “Nothing huge. But he’d stay out until all hours if I went against his wishes. Or not hold me as we went to sleep. He wouldn’t kiss me goodbye. He’d embarrass me in front of his parents or my father, retelling the story.”

I forced my free hand to straighten and pressed it flat against my jeans-covered thigh. “It wasn’t anything I could’ve named as more than unkindness. But looking back now…”

“It was manipulation.”

The voice that spoke wasn’t one I’d expected. I lifted my head to find Anson’s dark blue eyes staring back at me. Pissed-off understanding blooming in those dark depths.

“It was a manipulation to get what he wanted. And my guess is that escalated.”

I gripped Trace’s hand harder but didn’t look away from the ex-profiler putting together all the pieces. “Yes.”

My brother made a sound low in his throat, but I couldn’t look at him. Couldn’t look at anyone as I spoke the next words.

“When I told him I couldn’t marry him, he hit me. Backhanded me so hard it left me with a black eye.”

Movement sounded then. Rustling and then a door slamming. I looked up to see Linc disappearing out onto the back deck and the darkness looming there. My gaze collided with Arden’s, and she gave me a sad smile. “I’ve got him,” she said quietly.

I knew she did, but it killed something in me that I’d been the one to cause my brother pain. The one person who’d been there for me growing up. But hiding this from him wasn’t a kindness either.

“It’s the right thing,” Thea said softly.

“You have to tell people. Even if it hurts them. Even if it’s the most terrifying thing you’ll ever do.

” Her green eyes glittered with unshed tears.

“You tell them so they can be there for you. So they can help you untangle all the lies you’ve been told about yourself. ”

I battled with my own tears. There was a kindredness between us I didn’t want to share with anyone. Because I didn’t want another soul to feel the hurt I had. But still, I spoke the words I needed to. “Thank you.”

Trace’s lips pressed against my temple. “So damn brave.”

Gabriel’s expression looked a hell of a lot more pissed off now. “I have officers from the NYPD going to interview him, and put a call in to some prison officials at your dad’s facility.”

“He’s also checking into Jasper’s whereabouts,” Trace added .

There were some sounds of surprise around the room, and I realized that not all the Colsons knew Trace’s father was out of prison.

I twisted and turned to look at him. “Do you really think he’d do this just because he’s angry with you?”

Trace’s jaw worked back and forth a couple of times before he spoke. “He was outside the elementary school today. Made more threats. I honestly don’t know. He hates me.”

I pulled myself into Trace, grasping his hand even harder. Because all of this was weighing on him two-fold. Fear for me and hurt and anger regarding his father. I looked up and brushed my lips across his. “We’ll figure it out.”

But Trace didn’t look like he believed me.