Page 17 of Traces Of You
His father was just getting back on his feet in the past few months, but he’d never be the same after he’d fallen and broken his back.
“I doubt you remember Reenie. We were friends for a year when she lived here. Eighth grade, then she moved.”
“The little mousy girl that came around all the time?” Clay asked. His brother’s phone rang on the desk, but he ignored it. He knew he’d get one hundred percent of Clay’s attention unless the building was burning down.
“She wasn’t mousey,” he argued. “She was shy and had a shitty home life.”
“We all saw that,” Clay said. “And the fact you had the biggest puppy love crush going on. She didn’t see you that way.”
He didn’t need the reminder. “I’m not arguing there either. She’s on the run.”
“Whoa,” Clay said. “My brother, the sheriff, is going to harbor a criminal? That’s taking a childhood crush too far.”
“Don’t be a dick. You’re lucky we aren’t kids anymore or I’d be ramming you against the wall.”
“Dude,” Clay said, putting his hands up and waving his fingers. “Try it. It’s been a while since I’ve gone a few rounds with someone.”
He’d be stupid to lock horns with his brother. Anyone would be.
There were many afraid of Ford in this area, but his brother wasn’t one of them.
Shit, he’d learned how to fight by defending himself against Clay.
“Reenie isn’t a criminal.” At least he didn’t think so. He was going to have to do some digging without alerting anyone as to why or where she was. By her words, he still had most of this day to do it, but he wasn’t so sure he was going to trust that.
“Then what is she running from?” Clay asked. “Tell me everything or I won’t know what to do.”
“I doubt that,” he said. He filled his brother in on what Reenie had just confessed to him not even twenty minutes ago.
“Damn. Do you believe her story?”
“I do,” he said. “I know what I saw years ago. She’s never lied to me. She might not have given me all the facts back then, but she didn’t outright lie.”
Just like he knew she wasn’t lying now.
Was she withholding information?
Yeah, he was positive she was.
The fact he could convince her to stay was only one level of trust.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t change her mind in an hour and take off though.
“Do you trust her knowing that she set this guy up? That’s pretty damn sneaky to leave her blood in places in the house, clean it up so that it’s not visible to the naked eye. That’s a lot of planning too. To the point she’d bought another car without him knowing.”
“I know,” he said. “She said she’s been planning escapes in her mind for years. Try living like that. To feel as if you’re in acage and every time you open the door and walk out and see a piece of freedom, something yanks you into another one.”
“That’s her choice to hook up with men like that,” Clay said.
He shoved his brother against the wall and tried to lift him in the air by the shirtfront. Pure rage managed it.
Clay smirked. “See. You’re in trouble. You can’t react like that and never have before. Are you sure this is a wise decision?”
He let go of Clay’s shirt and stepped back. “Fuck.” He ran his hand over his face. “I’ll be fine. Just listening to her talk, it makes me sick. And I don’t think she’s always been in relationships like that. I didn’t ask. I only care about this last one.”
He wanted to vomit over what she’d endured.
Did he internally question why she stayed? Yeah, he had.
