Page 88 of Static

"No," I replied as Static shook his head with a warning look on his face. "Your...do your coworkers think it might be kids who broke into my house?"

"That's a pretty big coincidence," he stated.

"Well, thank you for letting me know. What...do I need to do?" Every molecule inside me was tensing up because I knew what he was going to say.

"We'll need you to come out here and go through your unit. See if there's anything missing."

"Okay," I forced out. "We'll be there soon." My hand was shaking so much that Static took the phone and disconnected the call for me.

He wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay. I'll be there with you."

"That's where all Trent's stuff is," I whispered.

"I know."

Of course he did. He was the one who got everything set up with the storage unit and he helped Ricochet and the others pack all the shit in Trent's apartment and put it there. He had no other living relatives, so my children became the beneficiaries of his estate. Not that he had much. Any money he had went straight up his nose—something I figured out after he attacked me—and he didn't have anything of value.

Rather than deal with it I was happy to keep paying the small rent on the storage unit each month. Just so that everything left of Trent was locked away and I wouldn't have to look at it. Digging my head into the sand was coming back to bite me in the ass now.

"I'm going to have to sit and talk with Dr. Donaldson for like seventy-two hours straight after this," I joked. My smile was weak because, though I was trying to make light of the situation it was freaking me out.

Static's eyes softened. "I wish I could do this for you. There's no way those cops are going to let me go in your stead, Sugar."

"I know." Blowing out a breath, I stood up and got dressed. "I'll see if Jordan or Syl can watch the kids."

Thirty minutes later we were back on the road, piled into the same truck as yesterday. Only today it was me, Hush, Butcher, and Toxic. I held Static's hand, working on hyping myself up for this. The hairs on the back of my neck rose and I glanced over to find Butcher studying me. Toxic was up front with Hush.

"What?" I asked.

"This is hard for you."

It wasn't a question. "Yeah," I admitted, giving him a small smile. "Stupid, right?"

He cocked his head, his eyes roaming over my face, as though he'd never considered someone else's pain before. Though, I knew for a fact he had. He wasn't as cold or heartless as he tried to portray. He was a good man in his own way. I counted myself lucky to have him as a friend.

"What's stupid?"

"Being afraid to go look at a room full of things. They're just inanimate objects." It was exactly the speech I'd been giving myself for most of the drive.

"That piece of shit tried to kill you," he growled. "He ambushed you." Anger flashed in his eyes. "Doesn't seem to me like you have anything to feel ashamed about." He went back to looking out the window after dropping that truth bomb, as though the rest of us weren't staring at him with our eyebrows up around our hairlines.

I looked over at Static and he gave me a 'didn't I tell you the same thing' kind of smile. And it wasn't that I hadn't believed him, it's just that when Butcher says something introspective, well, you paid attention. No one knew when it might happen again.

As soon as we pulled up, Static went to speak with the cops. Like a magnet, I was pulled to the storage unit. No one bothered me while I wandered through the things the club had stacked inside the unit. It wasn't much. A mattress, he didn't even have more than a metal bed frame for it, a dresser, a TV, a couch, and some bags of clothes.

I didn't bother to take care as I dumped the clothes out onto the concrete floor and kicked them around to make sure nothing was in there. My palms were sweaty and my vision was narrowed to a singular pinprick with overwhelming blackness around it. I was glad no one was trying to speak to me because I wasn't sure I could respond. Making a mental note to ask Dr. Donaldson why this was affecting me so much, I surveyed Trent's things, then looked over my shoulder and shook my head at Static. I knew he'd take care of the officers for me.

Yesterday I'd held myself together better than I was today. Two days in a row of dealing with my ghosts was just too much. I didn't want to do it. I wasn't sure why this was happening. I should be past it. The police officers didn't understand the turmoil inside me and they were staring at me like I was crazy.

"I'm not," I whispered to myself.

"What was that, Peaches?"

Glancing over, I found Butcher and Toxic by my side. I hadn't even heard them approach. I considered lying, but what was the point? "Just reminding myself that I'm not insane," I told them.

They shared a long look, but didn't say another word.

It was weird, but I was grateful that they didn't try to placate me. I just needed to handle this in my own way and move on. Sucking in a heavy breath, I blew it out, squared my shoulders, and forced myself to move to the space outside the unit. The Sheriffs were already leaving. I was just grateful none of this seemed to be them luring us out so Fremont could get to the guys. It would have been all too easy for him to do that.

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