Page 35 of Shelter from the Storm

“I hope he will, but I’m afraid he’s nowhere near finished looking right now. He came by the office this morning, wanting to look at your computer. I told him to get a court order,” Brenda confessed.

“Brenda! You didn’t have to do that. I didn’t leave anything on my computer to give away my location.”

“Doesn’t matter. My brother might be the forgive and forget type, but I’m not. Figured it was time to throw my cards on the table. Tired of him walking around town like the goddamned injured party. I have to admit, he’s smooth. Even though his frustration is off the charts, he didn’t lose his cool when I called him every name in the book. I think I should let you know…” Brenda paused.

“What?”

“He’s working an angle.”

Gretchen already knew which angle because it was one he’d used countless times in the past. So she wasn’t surprised when Brenda continued.

“He mentioned to me that he was concerned you’d had some sort of mental break because of childhood trauma and a bunch of bullshit like that. I think he’s using that to get his buddies on the force to help him look for you. Told me he handled things poorly, but it was because he didn’t know how to help you. He keeps saying you’re a danger to yourself.”

Gretchen blew out a long, slow breath. It wasn’t the first time he’d attempted to gaslight her—and others—by saying she was crazy, that she overreacted, that she blew things out of proportion. Briggs was as good at emotional abuse as he was physical. And for a while there, she’d started to genuinely believe she might be losing her mind.

But not now. “I’ve never been more mentally sound.”

Brenda sighed in relief. “I can tell. You sound so much better already, and it’s only been a couple of weeks. Listen, I won’t keep you. I wanted to touch base to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m great. And thanks again, Brenda. For everything.”

“If you need anything…”

“I’ll call. I promise.” The two of them said their goodbyes.

Gretchen hung up but made no move to return to the cookout, her thoughts whirling over Briggs and his comments about her mental instability, as a new fear crept in.

What if he traced her here?

What if he told the Storms and Edith the same lies?

Would they believe him the same way all the others had?

Briggs had convinced Destiny and Darryl that she was prone to outbursts and violence, and that the bruises they saw on her were the result of him trying to restrain her, to keep her from hurting him. He always managed to paint himself as some savior, as the only one who could control her and keep her safe from her psycho self.

The idea of him turning the Storms against her weighed heavy on her mind, and her lungs constricted.

“Hey, Gretchen,” Remi called out. “You better come grab a slice of this apple pie before the heathens eat it all.”

She forced a smile, drawing in a shivery breath. She’d felt so relaxed prior to Brenda’s call. Unfortunately, she couldn’t shake the tension in her shoulders, all the old fears and anxieties bubbling to the surface.

Somehow, she kept her fake smile in place and managed to hold the coming panic attack at bay all through dessert, and while it was clear the party was going to carry on for a few more hours, she was grateful when Edith offered her a chance to leave.

“I’m going to head home, my dear,” Edith said. “Theo said he’d drive you home later.”

“Oh no,” Gretchen said. “That’s not necessary. I’m kind of tired. I think I’ll go with you if that’s okay.”

Edith tilted her head curiously. “Of course it is. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather hang out with the young ones? Kick up your heels a bit?”

Gretchen shook her head. “No. I’d rather call it a night. I’m looking forward to diving back into our book.”

She and Edith had fallen into a routine ever since Gretchen moved in. After dinner, the two of them would hang out in the living room, chilling on the cozy couches as they watched a movie. So far, they’d taken turns picking the flicks. While Gretchen was a huge fan of rom coms, Edith’s taste—hilariously—ran toward disaster films.

A few days ago, they’d decided to start their own book club of two, each of them buying copies of the same book. They’d read the first three chapters last night, curled under their own fleece blankets, then they stopped to chat about what they’d read.

“If you’re sure.” It was clear Edith couldn’t believe Gretchen would choose reading a book over hanging around the firepit with the Storms.

“I am.”

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