Fragile Sanctuary (Sparrow Falls Book 1)

Chapter 25



“Stop laughing,” I said through gritted teeth as I climbed out of Rho’s SUV.

She rolled her lips over her teeth, doing her best to hide her amusement. But her eyes said it all. “Come on, he didn’t mean it.”

I just glared at Rho as she moved to open the back door for Biscuit. “That shirt will have to be burned. Look at what I’m wearing.”

Rho couldn’t hold in her laughter this time, not as the absolute absurdity of my T-shirt came into view. It was bright pink with an airbrushed kitten and rainbow on it. Not to mention the fucking sparkles.

Her laughter came harder as Biscuit jumped out of the SUV. Tears streamed down her face. “It was like projectile pooping. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“You won’t be laughing when you get his back end next time,” I mumbled.

Rho patted Biscuit on the head. “We’ll get you a diaper next time. Didn’t know you were a nervous pooper.”

A diaper. Jesus.

“Come on,” Rho said. “You can borrow Shep’s running stuff again.”

“I’ve got something in my truck.” I didn’t want to look too closely at the fact that I’d stopped at my place to fill a bag just in case Rho wanted me here.

“Well, you can use my shower while I feed the kittens and make dinner.”

Her shower. Images of Rho joining me in said shower filled my mind. Hell. I needed to rein it in. One taste of her, and she was all I wanted. All I could see.

A million different alarms went off in my head. All the reasons why everything about this was a horrible idea. But I followed her inside anyway.

Heading for the bathroom, I turned on the water as cold as it would go. I’d freeze that need right out of my system. I ripped off the goddamn sparkly kitten shirt, tossing it to the floor. That thing needed to be burned, too.

I shucked the rest of my clothes and stepped under the spray. The curses I let loose would’ve made a sailor blush, but I didn’t move out of the way. I let the ice-cold water hit me over and over again.

I made quick work of cleaning up before stepping out and toweling off. I changed into joggers and a fresh tee, scowling as I picked up the pink atrocity from the floor. I stuffed my belongings back into my duffel and headed toward the sound of humming.

As I reached the edge of the kitchen, the humming shifted to soft singing as Rho echoed the strains of a song I didn’t recognize. It was beautiful, raw, and real, with a hint of imperfection that just made it more captivating.

“You’ve got a voice, Reckless.”

She glanced up, a smile teasing her lips. “If you think I do, you should hear Arden.” She whistled. “She’s incredible.”

I leaned a hip against the kitchen island. “Sounded pretty damn good from where I was standing.”

“Well, thank you. I’ll reward your compliment with this.” She set some sort of bowl on a placemat on the island.

“What is it? Smells amazing.”

“Mexican grain bowl. Got some leftover chicken, corn, black beans, sauteed red pepper, and onions. You can add salsa and guac if you want—homemade, of course.”

I chuckled as I crossed into the kitchen. “Of course.” I glanced around the space. “Trash can under the sink?”

“Yup,” Rho answered, then frowned. “Why?”

I held up the pink T-shirt. “I’m getting rid of this atrocity.”

She snatched it from my hand. “You are not.”

I arched a brow at her in question.

Rho hugged it to her chest. “It’s a memory.”

“Of me being shat on,” I grumbled.

She giggled. “Yes, but also of you helping me when I needed it. We’re not throwing it away.”

“All right. Do whatever you want with it.”

“I’ll wash it and use it as a nightshirt.”

Oh, hell. I didn’t need that image in my head.

I did my best to shove it down. I hadn’t let myself dwell on the consequences of this morning’s encounter. Wouldn’t let myself go down the road of what it could mean. But I couldn’t stop remembering the feel of Rhodes strangling my fingers, the breathy moans, the mark she’d left on my shoulder. And her taste. That taste would haunt me for the rest of time.

Get ahold of yourself.

I tried switching my focus to helping Rho with dinner. Tried not to look at any one part of her for too long while we ate. Because, somehow, any part of her was dangerous. From the tips of her toes to the ends of her hair.

Despite my obsession with Rho’s goddamn toes, dinner felt normal. All a little too routine. As if we’d been doing this for years.

Even the cleanup. We worked in tandem, rinsing dishes and placing them into the dishwasher. It was a silent dance we’d somehow already memorized the steps to.

“You get any updates from Trace?” I asked as I wiped down the kitchen counters.

There was a slight hitch in Rho’s movements as she put the detergent into the dishwasher. “Nothing, really. He’s interviewing people. Still waiting on results from the lab.”

I’d heard pretty much the same from Shep, but we still hadn’t gotten the fire reports. Something told me Trace was holding back on handing them over because he knew they’d end up in my grasp, and he didn’t quite trust me.

“You notice anyone hanging around who shouldn’t have been the past couple of days?” I couldn’t seem to stop myself from asking all the questions I would’ve asked in my former life. Couldn’t keep from trying to help, even if I’d failed spectacularly at it before.

Rho’s eyes stayed focused on the dishwasher, but she didn’t answer right away.

I stiffened, my hand stilling on the counter. “Reckless.”

She straightened. “My ex is being a douche canoe, that’s all. Trace talked to him because of our history, and Davis didn’t handle it all that well.”

My hand tightened on the paper towel. “What. Did. He. Do?”

“Anson.”

“Tell me, Reckless.” Just knowing he’d been in her space, causing her grief after everything she’d been through in the past couple of days, made me want to rip out his jugular.

Rho worried the corner of her lip. “I ran into him outside the bakery, and he made it known he wasn’t pleased that I’d sicced my foster brother on him.”

A muscle along my jaw jumped. “You mean your brother.”

She let out a huff. “He always tried to lessen my connection to them.”

Sounded like an abuser in the making, trying to isolate Rho from her loved ones. “If he approaches you again, call Trace and then me. You might want to consider an order of protection, too.”

Her brows lifted. “That’s cop-speak.”

Shit. I needed to watch it. “I’ve watched my share of Law & Order. Just promise me you’ll tell us if he approaches you again.”

Rho’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want it to be him.

My chest constricted. No one wanted to think that someone close to them could do horrendous things. I moved into Rho’s space, unable to resist the pull of her pain. I wrapped my arms around her. “Might not be. But you should keep your distance either way.”

She nodded into my chest.

We stood there for longer than was safe, and if I stayed a moment longer, I’d end up doing something really stupid. So, I forced myself to release Rho. But I didn’t make a move to head for my truck. I simply got the blanket out of the hall closet and headed for the couch.

It seemed ridiculous after the moment we’d shared in the hallway this morning, but I couldn’t risk getting any closer to Rho than I already was.

Rho hovered in the hall, worrying her bottom lip. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know, I don’t.” I was anyway. Couldn’t get myself to leave her alone here with everything that’d happened. Even if I knew sleeping mere feet from her would be torture.

A little of the tension bled out of her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“G’night, Reckless.”

“Goodnight, Anson.”

Her lips around my name had everything in me winding tight again, but I shoved it all down. Counted to one hundred as she carried the box of kittens down the hall. Biscuit followed her toward the bedroom, and the lights went out. I stared up at the ceiling, listening to every tiny sound from down the hall.

The opening and closing of drawers, the rustling of bedding, the switch of the light. I lay in the dark, listening for anything else. Rhodes tossed and turned a few times, and then there was nothing.

I relaxed a fraction at the lack of sound. She was asleep. It eased something in me, knowing she was at peace. And I didn’t want to look too closely at that.

I thought sleep would be elusive, but it pulled me under, thanks to the lack of it the night before. Dreams swirled in my mind. Some good. Some bad. But all of them had one common thread…Rho.

She haunted me in my waking hours and in my sleep. I couldn’t escape her. And maybe I didn’t want to.

I didn’t know how long I’d been out when a whine sounded by my ear. I shot up to sitting, my heart pounding against my ribs.

Biscuit let out another whine.

“What’s wrong?” But I was already moving, heading straight for Rho’s room.

The sound of whimpering reached my ears before I’d even rounded the corner. When I hit her doorway, I saw Rho thrashing in the sheets. She was running for her life somewhere deep in her subconscious.

I made it to the bed in three long strides. “Rho,” I whispered, hands going to her shoulders. “Wake up. You’re okay.”

She jolted, her eyes flying open. The moment she took stock of me, those hazel orbs filled with tears, and she threw herself against me.

I caught her with an oomph, arms encircling her. “Easy, now. You’re okay.”

“It was so real. I was trying to get out, but I couldn’t. And Emilia was screaming for help. I couldn’t find her.”

Agony ripped through me at the fear and grief in Rho’s voice, at how desperately she clung to me. I held her tighter against me. “You’re safe. I promise.”

But I knew that was a promise I couldn’t keep. Because I’d failed before, and it was always the people closest to me who paid the price.


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