Page 32 of Broken Halo
Other than our baby.
I’ve known for less than twenty-four hours and my heart can’t take it. It’s bursting for the love we made together. And for Trig.
For us.
I wrap my legs around his waist and his lips bruise mine with a kiss I’ll never forget. When he touches his forehead to mine, we both have to catch our breath and he says, “I’ll figure it out. As long as your daddy doesn’t kill me first, I promise to make you happy.”
I press my lips to his. No harm will ever come to Trig Barrett by the hands of my father. I’ll stand in the way if I have to.
“As long as I have you, I’ll always be happy.”
* * *
It all comes flooding back. Like it happened yesterday, not years ago.
Eli called Jen after sending poor Quinn home before I was able to get hold of myself. I’m sure I’ll never see her again and I’ll have to find someone else who barely knows payroll and wants to help me learn how to run a business. I really liked her, too, and thought we’d become friends.
I mean, as much as two people can become friends during an interview and the first three hours of working together.
And since my only true friend was buried a few days ago, I was hoping there might be a possibility that Quinn might be friend material.
If she’s smart, she’ll stay far away from the freak show I’ve become.
Eli assured me he’d take care of Griffin until Jen got there. Trig packed me and my stuff up in his G Class, and before I could stop crying, we were off. I was too upset to refuse or argue.
But Trig didn’t take me home.
I’m not sure my heart can take anything more today—hell, I’m not sure how much more it can withstand this decade. But here I am, sitting in a place I’ve sat so many times before but right now it feels different. Looking out the back windows of Faye’s house toward the lake, I listen to Trig banging around her kitchen.
The teapot whistles and I pull my T-shirt up to dry my eyes. Pavlov’s theory is a real thing because right now I want nothing more than for Faye to walk into her sunroom and hand me a hot cup of tea, followed by a kiss right on top of my head.
Over the past few months, our roles reversed. I’d make her tea and kiss her on her bald head that was usually covered in a wrap. Now I only have my memories.
I never thought I’d return to Faye’s home. All the moments I’ve spent here with her—both happy and hard—come flooding back.
Trig sets a steaming mug on the end table next to me where I’m curled in the corner of her white sofa. His expensive dress shirt is rumpled and stained with my mascara. He looks almost as tired as I feel and I wonder if he got any sleep last night after he left my house.
I shouldn’t care about his sleep.
I pick up the mug and my words come out rough. “Your mom always fixed me tea.”
He sighs. “Me too and I don’t drink tea.”
I put the mug to my lips and watch a robin fluttering around the dry bird bath in her flower garden that needs weeding. I wonder what he’s going to do with her house.
“Your in-laws have been making calls to Texas and Eli doesn’t think it has anything to do with their dead son. Eli can’t figure out how they have a connection to the numbers they’re calling. He’s looking into them but so far isn’t coming up with much.”
I’m not sure what I expected when we ended up at Faye’s house, but it wasn’t to have a chat about my legal issues. I take a sip and shrug. “Who knows why they do anything.”
He settles into his deep club chair. “They’ve been making payments to a private investigator out of Houston since the day after their son died.”
I grip my mug and my eyes fly to his. “What?”
Trig nods. “Eli thinks they didn’t want to raise any flags by hiring someone local, but the guy has been traveling to the Dallas area for the last few months. Eli said his reputation is iffy at best. He’s not known for working a clean case, let alone by the book.”
I frown. “Does Eli work by the book?”
He shrugs. “I hope not. But in this case, he means this guy is known for investigations that are a means to an end, not always the truth. If your in-laws want to make a statement or bring you low, this would be the guy to find dirt on you, or, if there’s nothing to find, contrive something so it fits their goals.”
