Page 146 of Those Who Are Bound

“Skip to the end.”

“His name is Killion Murphy. He’s Army—out now. He’s staying on the property as maintenance and security.”

“Define ‘on the property.’”

“In that little room behind the office.”

She heard him exhale. Becks was as familiar with that room as she was; rather, to whom it had originally belonged. He didn’t comment on it, but instead prompted, “Drop the other half of your bombshell.”

“He has a record.”

“Goddamn it.” Now she heard movement on the end of the phone. Scribbling, maybe? He was taking notes. She had no doubt that in less than an hour, the preferred brand of Killion’s underwear would be in Becks’s hands… if Killion even wore underwear. “Didn’t think to consult me before you let an ex-con on yourproperty?”

“He’s tied to a church program. Lucy—”

“Don’t care. What the fuck is a church going to do if he loses his shit out there with you? Say a prayer after the fact? Light a candle?”

Elliott looked toward the front window at the dark blue twilight. “He reminds me—”

“He’s not Gage,” Becks interrupted harshly. “Being a veteran doesn’t automatically make him a good person. And even if he is, every stray veteran is not yours to save.”

That hurt. But instead of shutting down and hanging up, she jutted her chin—a gesture he couldn’t see—and responded, “That’s not what this is. I needed a hand, and he can do the job. It’ll be okay, you’ll see.”

“I’ll make sure it’s okay.” The response was one of frustration.

“You make me feel incompetent.”

“Your instincts aren’t always the best.”

The rapidity at which it was shot back was jarring. Becks had taken the gloves off and delivered a gut punch. True, and deserved, but she was still taken aback that he’d delivered it. No apology, no walk-back.

A few months ago, it would have sent her scurrying back to a place of anger, and she’d have shut down and shut him out again. Today, though, she accepted accountability for what led him to make the remark. “I’m trying.”

That at least was true. She was trying to salvage Jonah, fighting those instincts that said to race down the path of destruction with him because he made her feel good. It was a place she could lead him—he’d go willingly—and then she’d wreck him.

“I know, babe. And I’m proud of you, but next time… Ellie, don’t let there be a next time until you talk to me first. I just want you safe.”

She sighed. “I know. And I am safe.”

“Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”

Injecting levity into her voice, she asked, “Are you finished being mad at me?”

One begrudging laugh was her reward. “Not mad; concerned. But yeah; teaches me to check up on you more.”

“Becks,” she chided gently.

“That lasagna for him?”

Elliott made another face at the cooked dish and peeled back the tinfoil to let out the steam. “Not all of it.” Also true. Because she was heading out, she would probably send the leftovers to Killion. “I mean, I don’t even know if he likes lasagna.”

“Every man likes lasagna. If that’s your mother’s recipe, I’m jealous.”

“It is,” she answered. Her mom had made awesome lasagna, and Elliott never thought hers measured up. And she hadn’t made it in years, so she hoped it was palatable.

He made a joking yummy sound, followed by the exhale of what she imagined to be a stream of cigarette smoke. “Okay, kid, I gotta go. You added a high-priority task to my chores.”

“It’s not high-priority. And he already fixed the bathroom sink, so I’m pretty pleased.”

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