Page 80 of Fragile Sanctuary

I sent up a mental curse. I never should’ve put it that way. That sort of thing set off Shep’s white-knight complex. “As far as I know, she’s good now. I can just tell she’s been through some things.” I glanced up at him. “You know how it is. We’ve got a radar for people with scars.”

There was no way we couldn’t when our siblings had been through so much. You developed a sort of alert system for people who had been through trauma. And I wasn’t sorry about it. It had given us all empathy that most people didn’t have.

Shep scowled down at the counter. “She shouldn’t be dealing with whatever it is alone.”

I smiled at him. “You’ve got the best heart, you know that, right?”

Redness crept into his cheeks. “I just meant she needs some friends.”

“I know. But I love that you think that way.”

The front door slammed shut, and Biscuit pulled Anson down the hallway, panting happily. As Anson came into view, my eyes widened. He had dirt streaked across his cheek and down one side of his jeans.

“What happened?”

Anson glared at Biscuit and then me. “He saw a bunny and thought it would be fun to chase it. He dragged me a good six feet through the dirt.”

I rolled my lips over my teeth to keep from laughing.

“Donotlaugh,” Anson growled.

“I’m not,” I said, barely holding it in.

“I see it in your eyes,” he accused. He scowled at Biscuit. “No more treats until you get some proper training.”

Biscuit just looked up at him with adoring eyes.

“Damn it,” Anson muttered.

Shep chuckled as he set the black-and-white kitten back with its siblings. “You’ll last an hour, tops, before giving that dog a treat. Even if you do look like you took a dirt bath.”

Anson turned his glare on Shep. “I’m going to work.”

He dropped the leash and headed for the door.

Shep and I shared a look, and then both burst out laughing.

“I heard that!”

I pulledinto a parking spot outside The Mix Up. A few cars were nearby, but it was still early enough that the big breakfast crowd hadn’t descended, and thankfully, the mornings were still cool enough that I could leave the critters in my SUV while I ran in.

My phone buzzed in the cupholder, and I swiped it up.

Trace

Had a word with Davis. He’s got an alibi for the night of the fire, but it’s thin. Still waiting on prints to come back from the crime scene, but we have his from a drunk and disorderly during college. We’ll be able to compare.

I let out a long breath as I stared at the screen. Davis was the onlyperson I could think of who had real anger when it came to me. I also couldn’t imagine him wanting me dead. It seemed like a big leap. But I didn’t have any better ideas.

Me

Thanks. I’m running to The Mix Up and then work. You need a caffeine and sugar hit?

Trace

I’m good. Text me when you get to work.

I sent him a salute emoji in response, then gripped the wheel and closed my eyes for a second. I forced myself to think about the good stuff. The things that weren’t fire or threats or hatred. I thought about cute kitten mews. Biscuit dragging Anson through the mud. Anson’s hand between my—nope.

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