Page 94 of Broken Halo

She leans her head on the door frame, a mix of happy and reflective. “We are.”

I hold out my hand. “Come here.”

Not hesitating, she pushes off the door and walks straight into my arms. “This house is perfect. It’s already home.”

I put my lips to the top of her head. “My mom, she knew what she was doing by keeping you close.”

She tips her face to mine. “She might be the smartest woman I’ve ever known. And Jen Montgomery is my sister, so that’s saying something.”

I give her a squeeze. “Let’s finish the closet at least. The faster we get this done, the sooner we can move in permanently.”

She looks back to the closet. “There’re boxes up high I can’t reach.”

I let her go and head for the rest of my mom’s junk. We can go through it another night. I’m anxious for some more unprotected sex. “This is the biggest of the bedrooms and it has its own bathroom, I figure Griffin will appreciate it when we give him siblings.”

“I love you,” she offers freely, just like she used to.

I look back and tell her the truth. “Love you, too, angel.”

26

The Hardest and the Easiest

Keep the ones you love close and an eye on the rest, ‘cause who’d want them closer anyway?

Trig

My mom cleaned houses when I was growing up. She graduated from high school, but my dad did not. Somehow, he got his hooks into my mom when they were young. Maybe he wasn’t the asshole he is now … or even ten years ago … hell, even thirty-two years ago because I don’t remember him being anything other than the lying, cheating, thieving, son-of-a-bitch he’s always been.

When it comes to him, I have no memory of a time I wasn’t conditioned to being alert when he was around. It started when I was little and I’d hide when he came home drunk or high. It kept on later, but I did my best to stay away. He was never violent nor did he raise a hand to my mother. If he had, I probably would’ve killed him. But he did everything else and how he evaded the law as long as he did is beyond me. He’s a slippery fucker.

The only time I was able to breathe easy was when he was in prison. Even then, the first thing I did when I got a real job was find someone on the inside who could keep tabs on him. It was worth the price I paid, even when I could barely afford it. What happened to Ellie that day will haunt me until I die. Knowing my father’s every move was the only way I could sleep at night.

That’s why, for the last three weeks, I’ve kept a closer eye on him than normal.

He’s been quiet.

Eerily quiet.

Since Ellie is back in my bed—or in the guest bed at my mother’s house—I thought I would’ve at least calmed down, but no. Knowing she and Griffin are under my roof and aren’t going anywhere has only made me more alert. As long as Ray Barrett is breathing free air, I’ll obsess and stalk the shit out of him. The restraining order went through within a day and included her McMansion, studio, and my mother’s home.

Pettit told me that his parole officer wasn’t happy about the order and my dad has to check in more often because of it. My dad goes to work and sometimes he hits the same shitty-ass bar he used to go to all the time back in the day, but he always heads home after. He hasn’t done anything shady.

Until today.

“Your dad met with someone.”

My eyes angle up to Anderson. He works for Eli and has been tailing my dad. When I got a call straight from him and not Pettit, I knew the quiet was over. I’m so on edge, I’m ready for a fucking earthquake. “Who?”

“I don’t know. Truck windows were tinted and I wasn’t in a position to get a read on the tag to run it.” Anderson brings the screen of his big-ass camera to life and hands it to me. “I got some shots, but like I said, it was dark. He drove up, your dad got out of his truck, and talked to him through his window. I don’t have many pictures and Eli said to come straight to you, see if you recognized anything. I got what I could, which isn’t much.”

I zoom in as far as I can, skimming through the pictures. It’s so dark, I can’t see who’s in the car. As much as I appreciate the information, this is no help.

“When was this taken?” I ask, not looking away from the camera as I flip through the rest of the pictures of the man driving away in a generic Ford truck that’s maybe a few years old.

“About thirty minutes ago.”

“Can you send those to me?” I pick up my cell and call Ellie because I’m late.

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