Fractured Sky (Tattered & Torn #5)(53)

My heart sped up, tripping over itself in a double-time rhythm. “Oh.”

It was the only thing I could get out. That single syllable.

He leaned in closer. “You have to tell Hayes about the letters. This could be related to that, too.”

My head spun with how quickly Ramsey had jumped from one possibility to another—and with his nearness.

“What letters?” Hayes growled.

He’d always had hearing like a damn cat.

Ramsey straightened but kept his hold on me. He didn’t hurry to fill the silence with explanation. He let me find my way, even if I bumbled it.

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I, um, I used to get letters from Howard Kemper.”

Everyone around us went dead silent. I could hear the hum of the lights in the ambulance. A vehicle’s engine running. The breeze in the leaves.

“What did you say?” Hayes asked slowly.

I swallowed hard, weaving my fingers through Ramsey’s. I was facing this myself, but I was leaning on his strength to do it. “He sent me letters from jail once I had my own post office box.”

The sheriff’s mask was in place as Hayes stared at me—the one that made it impossible to read what he was thinking. “What was in the letters?”

I looked down at our joined hands, studying them as if they could give me the words to say. “Garbage. Sometimes, he just told me about his life in prison. Others were angry.”

Hadley glanced between us all. “But what does that have to do with this? He’s dead.”

“I got one after he died. One similar to what he used to say but…different.”

“It was a threat,” Ramsey filled in.

Beckett whirled on him. “You knew about this and didn’t say anything?”

Ramsey didn’t even blink at Beckett’s outburst. “It wasn’t my story to tell.”

“And now my sister’s sitting here with a concussion. She could’ve been killed!”

Most people wouldn’t have seen it, the flinching of Ramsey’s muscles, but it was more than I could take. I swung my legs over the side of the gurney and stood, giving Beckett a healthy shove. “Shut your mouth. You don’t know what you’re talking about. If you have a problem with information I didn’t share, then take that out on me. Don’t lash out at the person who has been there for me through all of this.”

Beckett’s eyes widened, and his jaw went slack. “He should’ve been looking out for you—”

“He was! In every way. Just because he doesn’t use a method you find acceptable doesn’t mean it’s not everything to me.”

A hand curled around my waist, tugging me back to the gurney. “You don’t have to defend me.”

I looked up at Ramsey, seeing the first hint of amusement in his eyes. But there was pain there, too. Because my brother’s words had landed. I scowled. “I do when people are being idiots.”

Hadley made a choked sound.

“I’m worried about you,” Beckett defended. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because she was worried that she’d lose the little bit of freedom she had.”

It was Hayes who’d spoken, pain and regret lacing his voice.

He moved towards me, taking my hand and squeezing. “I’m so damn sorry, Shy. I’m sorry we made you feel so trapped you felt you couldn’t tell us any of this.”

“I should’ve. I was trying to find a way…”

He squeezed my hand. “You told us now. And we’re going to figure this out. But I need to see those letters.”





25





RAMSEY





The walls of the guest cabin seemed closer than earlier in the day, the air warmer and thicker. I cracked my neck as I took in Hadley and Calder in the kitchen with Shiloh. Hadley handed her a cup of tea, saying something I couldn’t hear. Shiloh nodded, and I didn’t miss the wince with the action.

She needed rest, but I knew that wouldn’t happen anytime soon. The tension between my shoulder blades eased a fraction when she headed towards the couch, Hadley and Calder on her heels. My gaze stayed locked on Shiloh as she eased onto the sectional, Kai lying down on the floor next to her.

Hadley dimmed the lights overhead in the living space, and the lines of strain around Shiloh’s eyes lessened the barest amount. Beckett had returned home to his pregnant wife but had given me strict instructions to wake Shiloh every three hours tonight just to be safe.

As Shiloh took a sip of her tea, I turned back to Hayes. He had clearly perfected his mask over his years in law enforcement, but I saw glimmers of his true emotions beneath it. He was ravaged. Too many letters to count lay across the dining room table, each one placed in an evidence bag. But there were still more in a box that Shiloh had retrieved from her bedroom.

I hated the idea of her sleeping near the container of vileness, and that Howard Kemper’s voice was always close. If Hayes hadn’t needed them, I would’ve burned every damn one.

I didn’t want to see the words, but they jumped out at me.

Keep yourself pure for my boy. You’ll be his one day.

You’ll pay for running from the family I tried to give you.

I forgive you. You know not what you do.