Page 20 of Over the Edge

“I’ll see you there. Don’t let the press get to you.”

Easy advice to give—but Lindsey wasn’t married to a man who’d been scarred by shattering trauma that had almost ruined his life. Who’d been conditioned to expect the worst in any situation.

“I’ll try not to.” She shifted aside as Chad deposited their plates on the counter. “Thank you for reaching out.”

They said their goodbyes, and Dara set the phone on the table.

“Why did she call?” Chad put the stopper in the sink and twisted the faucet.

“To see if we were okay.”

He squirted detergent into the water, posture stiff. Watched as bubbles began to multiply, covering the surface until the clear water was obscured. “There’s one thing I didn’t tell you earlier.”

She braced, dread snaking through her.

Whatever he was about to say was why he’d been taut as a bowstring all afternoon. Why he’d relayed only the bare facts as she’d driven him home earlier, then shut down and buried himself in video games until she took him back to get his truck.

“Tell me now.”

“The police found one of Heidi Robertson’s earrings wedged in the running board of my truck.”

Dara’s pulse stuttered.

That was very bad news. No matter how it had ended up there, the police would take a hard look at the owner of the truck. Especially an owner with Chad’s history.

“What did you tell them?”

“That I had no idea how it got there. I don’t know if they believed me.” He twisted off the faucet, and quiet descended in the room as he faced her. “Doyoubelieve me, Dara?”

Pressure built in her throat, and she moved closer to him. Laid her hand on his arm. “Of course. The man I married isn’t a thief.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed, and he eased away from her touch. “He was once, though. On the street, I ... I stole food when I was hungry and warm clothes if I got cold.”

A tingle of unease swept over her. “You told me you didn’t have a record.”

“I don’t. I only got caught once, and the store didn’t press charges.”

“Why not?”

“I’d met Reverend Long by then, and I called him. He intervened for me.”

“But why did you steal? Wouldn’t homeless shelters have provided everything you needed, or pointed you to resources to get them?”

His jaw hardened. “My experience with shelters wasn’t the best. Let’s just say I felt safer on my own—until I ran into Reverend Long.”

The man who’d convinced Chad he could turn his life around and hooked him up with counseling, training, and a place to live. She knew that part of the story.

Apparently there was a lot she didn’t know.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“I don’t know what the reporters or cops will dig up about my past, and I don’t want you to find out about anything bad from anyone but me.”

She braced. “Is there more?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back against the sink and wrapped his fingers around the edge. “I got into a fight once, on the street. A guy tried to take a coat I’d stolen. He jumped me from behind. I reacted on instinct, and my military training kicked in.”

She tried to ignore the alarm bells beginning to clang in her mind. “Did you hurt him?”

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