Page 78 of Chasing Shelter

He just laughed and crossed to the table, but I intercepted him before he made it. “Kye?”

“What’s up, buttercup?”

A soft laugh left my lips. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

“You need ink?”

I shook my head. “I have an aversion to needles.”

“You and Fal both.”

“I was wondering if you had time for some self-defense training or mixed martial arts instruction?”

Kye’s expression morphed again, becoming assessing like an animal gauging my weaknesses. Only I knew it wasn’t a lead-up to attack. It was something else entirely. “What are you looking for?”

I swallowed, really thinking about the question. “I want to feel strong.”

I wanted that more than anything. To feel like I could stand up for myself and not just with my words. That I could back it up with my body, too.

“That, we can do. Tomorrow, five o’clock?”

“That easy?” I asked, a little shocked.

One corner of Kye’s mouth pulled up. “Gonna turn you into an ass-kicking machine.”

“Kyler Blackwood,” Nora called. “You’re in time-out.”

“Swear jar, Kye Kye,” Keely yelled.

Kye shook his head. “Always the black sheep.”

Only I knew he was anything but.

Laughter filledthe air as Shep told a story about Lolli getting frisked at an airport thanks to her T-shirt that readGo Green, with a pot leaf instead of the recycling symbol.

My phone dinged, and I shifted to pull it out of my skirt pocket. It dinged again before I could even get it out, and then it started ringing.

I quickly silenced it, taking in the unfamiliar number on the screen. Unease slid through me like the oily tentacles of an unknownsea monster. I pushed to my feet, mumbling that I’d be back. As I headed for the back door, the phone started ringing again.

The same unfamiliar number.

My fingers tightened around the device. It could be Trace. Maybe he was calling from a landline at the station.

I hitAccept, pressing the cell to my ear as I closed the door behind me and stepped out onto the back deck. “Hello?”

“Eleanor.”

Everything in me tightened at the sound of Bradley’s voice. “You need to stop calling me.”

Maybe he simply needed to hear it. To know that we were truly done.

“You need to stop playing games,” he spat.

My fingers gripped the phone harder. “I’m not. I’m saying we’re done. I hope you can deal with the things you need to and find someone who makes you happy. But that person isn’t me.”

I moved the phone away from my ear to end the call but heard him yelling on the other end of the line. “You think you can throw me away, you little cunt?—”

I disconnected, but I couldn’t stop staring at the screen. I could count the number of times I’d heard Bradley curse on one hand. He’d always thought my letting those spicy words fly was an unattractive habit. Maybe keeping them in my vocabulary was my little rebellion.

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