Page 5 of Chasing Shelter

Some part of me knew I answered. That I’d played the part he wanted me to play. But the rest of me? I buried it deep so no one could ever steal it from me again. The only problem was thatIdidn’t have it either.

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TRACE

“Daaaaaaddy.”Keely’s voice cut through our house like a heat-seeking missile. “My toothpaste exploded.”

I didn’t move for a second, just stared at the wall before I pinched the bridge of my nose in that spot just below my brow bone where headaches loved to form. Everything hurt. Whether from sparring with my foster brother, Kyler, or tackling a perp behind The Soda Pop after he tried to snatch cash out of an open register, I wasn’t sure. Both options made me feel old.

“It’s really everywhere.”

The amused wonder in Keely’s voice had me pushing to my feet. As cute as my kid was, she could leave destruction in her wake. I strode down the hallway, adjusting my empty gun belt as I moved. But I froze as I stepped into the doorway.

It looked like a murder scene, not a kid’s bathroom. Red goo waseverywhere.The sink, the mirror, and all over said kid’s face.

I stared at her for a long moment. Her long, brown locks were in haphazard pigtails she’d attempted to tackle herself. Her greeneyes, a couple of shades lighter than my own, looked up at me with a hint of wariness.

That flicker of uncertainty spurred me into action. “You just had to have the strawberry flavor, didn’t you.”

Keely broke into a fit of giggles, just as I’d hoped. “I dunno what happened. I just squeezed, andBOOM!” She threw her hands wide, making more red goo hit the walls.

I tried not to wince at the mess. “Gentle squeezes, remember?”

She sent me a sheepish grin. “I forgot.”

I chuckled, grabbing her pink washcloth dotted with strawberries. “Bet you won’t next time.”

“Prolly not,” she mumbled as I ran the cloth under the water.

I dabbed at my daughter’s face, trying to get her clean while glancing at my watch. Five past eight.Damn.I scrubbed faster.

The thought of being late ground at me. Logically, I knew it wasn’t the end of the world, but it reminded me too much of growing up. Of the time before I went to live with the Colsons. When I’d gotten to school hours past starting time, hungry and in stained clothes a size too small.

That would never be the case for my kid.

“Daaaad, too scratchy,” she complained.

“Sorry, Keels.” I instantly softened my movements, trying to get every sticky ounce of red gel off her. Laying the washcloth on the sink, I lifted and deposited her in the hall so she wouldn’t step in the mess. “Arms up.”

Keely instantly shot her hands in the air. I fought a laugh as I pulled her T-shirt covered in tiny rainbows over her head and handed her the toothbrush from the counter. “Go brush your teeth in my bathroom, then pick out a new shirt.”

“Aw, man. That one’s my favorite,” she complained.

My lips twitched. “You want your friends to think you miss your mouth when you’re eating jelly and toast?”

Her little nose wrinkled adorably. “Noooo. Do I have to use your gross mint toothpaste?”

“Mint isn’t gross.”

“It burns, and it tastes like a plant from Grams’s garden.”

I shook my head. “Lucky for you, I stocked extra strawberry in the hall closet. Just be careful.”

“Yes!” She shot both hands in the air again and did a little dance down the hallway.

I laughed, but as I turned back to the bathroom, a groan replaced the sound. I glanced at my watch again. Five minutes. I could handle that. I’d become an expert in mess cleanup at record-breaking speed.

Pulling open the cabinet, I grabbed some paper towels and cleaning spray and got to work. As I cleaned, I realized the red toothpaste was leaving pink stains behind everywhere. It really did look like a crime scene.

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