Page 66 of Chasing Shelter (Sparrow Falls #5)

My muscles stiffened at the sound of Rho’s voice above the crowd. I could’ve pretended I didn’t hear her, but Rhodes was determined, and she would’ve followed me. I slowed in the side hallway, stepping out of the flow of traffic.

“You’re fast for how tiny you are,” Rhodes said, struggling to catch her breath.

“What’s up?” I asked, feigning nonchalance.

Rho’s eyes narrowed on me the way only a best friend’s could. “Where are you going?”

“I have something to do this lunch period.”

“And that is?” she pressed.

I didn’t say anything right away.

Rhodes let out a long breath. “You’ve been MIA at lunch for weeks. What’s going on?”

I twisted the strap of my backpack around my fingers and pulled it tight. “I’m tutoring someone.”

Rho’s brow furrowed. “Why didn’t you just say so?”

“He doesn’t want people to know he’s struggling. That’s all.”

One corner of her mouth quirked up. “ He , huh?”

My cheeks heated. “It’s not like that.” No matter how much I wanted it to be. But even if there were no stolen kisses or anything of the like, we shared something deep—an understanding I’d never had with anyone else. Not even Rhodes.

“I’m just giving you a hard time,” Rho said. “I’ll cover for you if anyone asks.”

I grinned at her and started down the hall. “You’re the bestest bestie,” I called.

“I know I am!” Rho shouted.

Keeping an eye out for any faculty members, I ducked out the side door and jogged across one of the soccer fields toward the forest. The moment I stepped into the trees, I breathed a little deeper.

The clean mountain air, the pine scent clinging to everything, the sound of the creek in the distance… it all put me at ease.

I wound through the trees, following a path I knew by heart. It had been my escape route since high school started a few months ago. I just hadn’t realized at the time that it wasn’t only mine .

My heart stuttered as I caught sight of him sitting on a log.

I recognized him instantly, even from behind, and with the hood of his sweatshirt pulled up.

Kyler Blackwood was just that kind of boy.

Bigger than most of the guys at Sparrow Falls High, it wasn’t only his size that made him so easy to identify.

It was the energy that emanated from him, wafting off him in crackling waves.

He seemed to prowl through life in a way that made others keep their distance.

But I was never scared of Kyler. He was real .

He didn’t paint on a smile when he didn’t feel it.

He didn’t pretend that everything was okay when it wasn’t. He simply was. And I was in awe of it.

Fallen leaves crunched under my feet, and Kyler turned, revealing one side of his shadowed face. Even half-covered, I instantly knew something was wrong.

“Hey, Sparrow.”

I didn’t say anything right away; I just kept moving, needing to get to him. I lowered myself to the log next to him and let my backpack fall to the ground. “Tell me.”

Kyler shrugged off the request, asking a question of his own. “Got any new house drawings?”

He was the only one I’d ever shown my drawings to by choice.

Sometimes, living in an imaginary world—one where parents and siblings didn’t die, and kids weren’t neglected or hurt—was easier.

So, I’d repeatedly draw a whimsical house: a place where no bad things happened.

It was a cross between a Craftsman and a Victorian, with teal siding and bright blooms covering most of it.

I wasn’t especially good at drawing, but I’d gotten good at this one thing. It was my escape. Except that escape had shifted over the past few months. Changed. Because Kyler had become a part of it.

I could feel the anger and pain swirling around Kyler. I took him in. His hand lay on the log, pressing against the rough bark. His knuckles were torn, which wasn’t unusual given the number of fights he got into, both inside the ring and out of it. But some of the tears were fresh.

The urge to clean them gnawed at me. I’d taken to carrying a first-aid kit in my backpack for exactly that reason. But it wasn’t time. Not yet. Because something was hurting him a hell of a lot more than those knuckles.

I moved, linking my pinky with his and squeezing.

It was our sign that we were there for each other.

If I needed to rage about how unfair it was that I’d lost Dad and Jacob, or how worried I was about one of my siblings…

If Kyler needed to let loose the ugly stew of feelings regarding what he faced at home each and every day: his father’s fists, his mother’s vitriol. We were always there.

“Tell me.” My words had a slight pleading edge.

Something about that made Kyler turn. And that’s when I saw it. A sick feeling swirled inside me as I took in the side of Kyler’s face. It was bruised and swollen in a way that could only come from someone hitting you over and over again when you were down.

My pinky tightened around Kyler’s as if my grip on him was the only thing keeping him with me.

“The fights?” I croaked. Kyler was a hell of a mixed martial artist, but he’d started taking some fights for money, and I’d never had a good feeling about them.

Looking at his face now, I realized it was more than just the physical toll of those fights.

The light in Kyler’s amber eyes swirled, turning darker. “No.”

My throat constricted. Worse than fights for money with no protective gear? Worse than getting mixed up with guys who wore motorcycle club vests and Trace said were dangerous?

“Your dad?” I could barely get the words out, my throat weaving into intricate knots I didn’t think I’d ever get undone.

Kyler looked at the creek below us. The dogwoods that had been in full bloom months ago when we first met here were now bare, like bony fingers that had been starved of food and affection for far too long. Like Kyler himself.

A muscle along his jaw pulsed in time to a beat only he could hear. “He got the jump on me when I got home. Drunk or high. Maybe both. He got me down, and I couldn’t get up. Woke up on the floor this morning.”

The pressure of unshed tears was instant, but I shoved them and the rage swirling inside me down as far as they would go. “Your mom? ”

The two words were strangled, barely audible, but he heard them. “You know she doesn’t give a fuck about me. She’s still pissed that I ruined the best years of her life. Sometimes, I think she’d rather he finish me off.”

Tears filled my eyes, cresting up and spilling over as I kept hold of Kyler’s pinky. But I couldn’t speak. Didn’t have the words for him living through something so awful.

He turned then, taking in my face. “Fuck, Sparrow. Don’t cry.”

Kyler tugged his hand from mine. Not holding his pinky made me feel a little sick. Like I could no longer protect him. Kyler covered his thumbs with the sleeves of his hoodie and swept them under my eyes, clearing away the tears. “I’m okay.”

“You’re not.” The words were barely a whisper. “They can’t get away with this. We can’t let them.”

Kyler’s hands dropped from my face. “I’m gonna take off. Maybe try to make it to Portland.”

Panic flooded my system, fear fast on its heels. Kyler was two years older than me, but sixteen wasn’t old enough to make it on your own in a huge city. Anything could happen to him. And the idea of not seeing Kyler every day? Not knowing he was all right?

It made me feel like I couldn’t breathe.

“Don’t,” I croaked. “I can talk to Trace. He’s a deputy now. He can help?—”

“No.” Kyler was on his feet in a flash, pacing. “You can’t. I could end up in a group home or, if my dad rats me out for fighting, juvie. I can’t risk it, Sparrow. Promise me you won’t tell anyone. Promise.”

Each word wound the panic tighter. But I knew I couldn’t betray the gift Kyler had given me.

Trust.

For the boy who had nothing, he’d given me everything. His trust. His kindness. He’d seen me doing battle with my grief and had come alongside me in the most beautiful way.

“I won’t tell,” I whispered.

The tension in Kyler eased a fraction, like someone had dialed down an electrical current. “Okay. ”

I stared at the boy who’d become my haven, taking in his beaten and bloodied face. “I can’t stand you hurting,” I rasped, pushing to my feet. “I want to fix it. I want to kill them. I want to take away all the pain and make it better.”

“You do,” Kyler said, cutting me off as he moved into my space and linked his pinky with mine again.

“You bring me food. You make sure I don’t flunk out of my classes.

” His finger traced the arrow necklace I wore every day.

“You make me feel…not alone. And, Sparrow? I’ve been alone for basically as long as I’ve been breathing. But you? You make it all better.”

My breath hitched as Kyler’s hand lifted to cup my cheek, his thumb sweeping away the last of my tears. My pulse thundered in my ears as his head dipped. But he just hovered there, not closing the distance, waiting for me. Like he always did.

And because it was Kyler, I wasn’t afraid or even nervous. I just wanted. To know what his lips felt like, what his tongue tasted like, what it would be like to be kissed by this boy.

I closed the distance, my mouth meeting his.

The boy everyone thought of as a brute was heartbreakingly gentle as his mouth met mine.

Heat hit my lips, spreading out, moving through my whole form, waking me up as if I’d been sleepwalking through life.

Kyler tasted like peppermint and a hint of smoke, and his scent was stronger now, too: oakmoss and amber, but with a twist. As though when those scents connected with Kyler’s skin, they changed. Just like I did.

His rough palm slid along my jaw as I pressed into him, wanting more of the magic that was only him.

His tongue stroked in, just barely. Hesitant, waiting for that permission again.

I met his kiss awkwardly at first, but then I found my footing.

His long fingers slid into my hair as I opened for him.