Page 54 of Chasing Shelter

“And he went to prison.”

Trace nodded slowly, his fingers following invisible lines on hisuniform pants. “Got eight years for manslaughter, concealment of death, and drug possession.”

I frowned, doing the math in my head. “Shouldn’t he have been out by now?”

“Killed another inmate and attacked a guard his second year in.”

My mouth went dry as I thought about my own father currently sitting in a jail cell. I knew now what he was capable of, but it had always been hidden. Carefully constructed lies and facades of pleasantness. Trace’s father’s violence was in your face, the monster that never hid in the shadows. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

“And now he’s…what? Threatening you?” Anger surged, boiling over and spreading through each and every vein.

“In not so many words. Made sure I knew that he saw me with you, with Keely. Looking for targets around me.”

That boiling turned to pure fire. “I’m not a target. And I hope he comes for me. I’ll break his balls and have him singing soprano until the cops get there.”

Trace’s lips gave the barest twitch. “Break his balls, huh?”

“Damn straight.”

Any hint of a smile slid from his face. “If you see Jasper, you get somewhere public and call me. You donotengage. Promise me.”

It was the panic in Trace’s final words that had me agreeing. “Okay. But he’s probably just trying to make you worry.”

Trace leaned back against the headrest. “I wish I could be sure of that.”

Unease slid through me like oil through water. “What about Keely?”

A muscle in Trace’s cheek fluttered. “I talked to her mom and the school. We’ll all keep a close eye.”

God, I wanted to punch Trace’s dad. Wanted to do worse. Trace was the last person who deserved this, not when he did so much for others—his family, especially.

He reached out, closing his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles bleached white. “I’ve worked so hard to keep Keelysafe. I’d giveanythingto make sure she stays that way. Happy, healthy, secure. But I keep failing.”

I whirled in his direction, startling Gremlin in my lap. “The hell, you do.”

Trace’s eyes widened slightly at the fervor in my words.

I pinned him with a hard stare. “We don’t always get to choose our pasts. We definitely don’t get to choose what we’re born into. But you’ve created such good out of your heartache. You’re an amazing father, brother, and son. An incredible cop.”

“Sheriff.”

“Whatever. You made good out of the bad, beauty out of the ugliness. I would be proud as hell if I could do that.”

Trace stared at me for a long time. “What ugliness are you trying to erase?”

I let out a long breath. Thinking about sharing the truth with Trace was akin to standing naked on the lawn and letting the world see every scar and blemish. But he deserved it.

“My mom died when I was six. Dad said it was a car accident. Later, I found out she’d been drinking.”

“I’m sorry, Ellie?—”

“That wasn’t the whole story. No one told me the truth. Not my dad. Not Linc, not until recently.” My fingers dug into the seat cushion. “My dad terrorized her. Belittled her. Stole her life, piece by piece, until she didn’t want to live anymore. There were no skid marks at the scene. No signs that she tried to brake at all. She floored it and aimed straight for the bridge railing.”

“Ellie…”

My eyes burned as I fought back tears. “I miss her, but I’m so mad at her. And worse…I’m just like her.”

Trace reared back. “Excuse me?”

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