Page 27 of Finding Home with You

“I got shot. I thought I told you not to keep a key under your doormat?”

I stand there dumbfounded, taking a step back; I put some distance between us. He just told me he got shot and yet he’s worried about the spare key I keep under my mat.

“What do you mean you got shot?” The tone of my voice changes suddenly along with my posture and Ryan seems to grow defensive. My arms are crossed against my chest and I can feel my face grow hot.

“I’m a cop, Erin,” he says matter-of-factly, like this somehow explains the situation. He’s shown up at my house out of nowhere acting like getting shot is no big deal.

It’s a big fucking deal.

I don’t even know how to respond, but I feel like his callousness shouldn’t be it. I’m silent too long and Ryan lets out a long exhale and says, “I figured you’d understand.”

“Understand what? What’s that supposed to mean?” I practically shout back at him, running a hand through my hair as I feel myself begin to grow anxious.

“Understand that people get shot, Erin!” And this time he is shouting.

“Why the fuck would I understand that?” I scream, knowing I’m lying through my teeth. I do know that people get shot, and I know my father has even killed people, but Ryan doesn’t know that. There’s no way he could.

“I don’t know, because I’m a fucking cop and that shit happens,” he yells back, throwing his hands in the air.

I need to be at work in twenty minutes and it’s clear this conversation isn’t going to end that quickly.

“Listen, Ryan, I have no idea why you’re here or what the hell happened, but I gotta get to work. This conversation isn’t over and you damn well better be here when I get home.”

I storm out the door; grabbing the spare key, I look right at Ryan and toss it back under the mat as I slam the door closed behind me.

Chapter Eleven

Ryan

The sound of Erin’s tires screeching as she reverses out of the driveway and takes off down the street only pisses me off even more. I’m in two minds about whether I should go after her and finish this argument, but I know I can’t confront her and make a scene at her school. Even I’m not that much of a dick.

Still, I’m fucking livid and I know it’s got nothing to do with her rant about me getting shot, and everything to do with the key under her mat and the photo I have in my pocket.

I shouldn’t have come here. I should’ve gone straight to the station or Beck’s place. But it’s a small town and if Erin had gotten wind of me being up here without me coming to see her first, then all hell would have broken loose. Well, more so than it has already.

Plus, a part of me wanted to see her, see if she recognized what I now know about her. What I hoped she’d be able to admit to me without me having to confront her about it all.

“Shit,” I mumble as I turn and open the front door. I grab the key she put under the mat and slide it onto my key ring. It’s bad enough she does it in the first place, regardless of how small this town is, but knowing now that she might have some sort of connection to William fucking Fitzgerald and his crew, it makes all of this so much worse.

I pull out my phone and send a quick text.

Me: hey, you at home or the bar? Ok if we have a quick chat?

Beck: you’re here? I’m home, come on over.

I don’t bother responding, just slide my phone into my pocket as I lock the door and head out to my car.

Ten minutes later I’m knocking on Beck and Kelsey’s front door.

“Hey,” Beck says, opening it immediately.

“Hey.”

“What’s going on?” he asks, ushering me inside. “Couldn’t stay away from her, huh?”

I shake my head, scrubbing a hand down my face as exhaustion starts to kick in. “How much do you know about Erin’s past?”

Beck looks at me strangely before turning and walking in the direction of the kitchen. I follow him wordlessly, taking a seat at the table as he pours me a cup of coffee and then joins me.

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