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Beautiful Burn: A Novel by Jamie McGuire (17)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

My fingers were spread out in my lap, all ten ink-stained and covered in dirt. I intertwined them, touching the knuckles of my thumbs to my forehead and closing my eyes but praying to no one. Echoes of movement traveled down the hall to my cell, and my knee began to bob again. This was the first time I’d been arrested without knowing my father would have me freed within the hour.

Tears stung the gash on my cheek, just one of several wounds the forest had left on my body while I’d tried to trudge through the thick trees and dry, razor-sharp branches. My head was still swirling from the countless vodka tonics that had helped me decide to sneak into the black.

The bars rolled to the right, and the sheriff’s deputy caught the gate just before it crashed into the wall.

“You got some friends in high places, Edson,” he said.

I stood, holding my hand in front of my face to block out the bright light. “Who?” I asked.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” he said.

I stepped out, hoping to God the person on the other side of the wall wasn’t my father.

The deputy guided me by the arm to a small room where Trex sat in a folded chair. He stood, reaching out to take me from the deputy’s grasp.

“Don’t speak,” Trex whispered.

“We’re releasing Miss Edson into your custody, Agent Trexler. We assume you’ll make sure she’s not in a restricted area again?”

“She’ll be up north. Nowhere near the fire,” Trex said.

We walked down a long hallway into the front of the county jail. Tyler was sitting in one of the dozen or so chairs lining the white wall, his head in his hands. When the door closed behind us, he looked up.

“Oh, thank Christ,” he said, standing up and pulling me against his chest. He kissed my hair, breathed me in, and then held me at arm’s length.

I cringed, knowing what he would say.

“What the fuck were you thinking, Ellison? I mean … what in the actual fuck?”

“Not here,” Trex said, holding open the front door.

Tyler grabbed my hand and pulled me through, following Trex down the sidewalk to an Audi much like my father’s. Trex opened the back door for me, and I sat, sliding over when Tyler began to climb in next to me. Once the door shut, the yelling began again.

“Do you have any idea how scared I was when I got the call?” he seethed. “Do you have any fucking clue how much trouble you could have been in—how much trouble we all could have been in—if Taylor hadn’t gotten Trex involved? Do you know what that would have done to me if something had happened to you?”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t trying to get you fired.”

Tyler grabbed my shoulders. “Fired?” He shook his head, releasing me before sitting back against the seat. “Goddamn it, Ellie, I thought you were dead.”

Guilt overwhelmed me, and the past six hours of wandering in the black, slightly intoxicated, and then getting fully booked into the system after my arrest finally hit me. “I’m really, really sorry. That was so stupid. I wasn’t thinking.”

“That tends to happen when you’re drunk,” he snapped.

“I’d only had two drinks,” I said, immediately feeling guilty for lying. It didn’t take long for me to resort to old habits.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, dubious. “You’re really going to lie me? After I just pulled a hundred strings to get you out of jail?”

“I’m not.” I paused, shrinking from Tyler’s glare. “Lying.”

“Wow. Okay, then,” he said, facing forward.

“Technically, I was the one who pulled all the strings,” Trex said.

I frowned at Tyler. “How did you get him to do it?”

Tyler looked down, frustrated. “Don’t ask how, Ellie. Just say thank you.”

“To who? The FBI? I want to know. What’s in it for you, Agent Trexler?” I feared the worst: that Taylor or Tyler had agreed to share information about their brother in return for Trex’s help.

“It’s not agent anymore,” Trex said. I wasn’t sure if he sounded deflated or relieved.

“What?” I asked.

Tyler nodded. “He’s serious. He no longer works for the bureau. Apparently his boss is a real dick.”

Trex breathed out a laugh, somehow finding humor in the situation.

“How did he pull strings, then?” I asked.

Tyler sighed. “He just did, Ellie.”

Why?” I insisted. “What did you do in return, Tyler?”

“It’s what you’re not going to do,” Trex said.

“All of us,” Tyler said.

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about? What do you mean?”

“Darby,” Trex said.

“Darby?” My nose wrinkled. “She thinks you’re a hotshot,” I said, my tone accusatory.

“I’m aware. Did you tell her otherwise?” Trex asked.

“No,” I said.

“Good. We need to keep it that way,” Tyler said. “That’s the deal.”

“That we let Trex lie to Darby?” I asked. “Who is she?”

“Just a girl,” Trex said. “But you blow my cover with her, and you’re back in that cell.”

I settled back into my seat, unhappy about his conditions. “You’re not going to hurt her, are you?”

He grimaced, his thick eyebrows pulling together. “That’s the point, Ellison. Do you agree or not?”

I looked up at Tyler. “Do you trust him?”

“He got you out of jail, didn’t he?”

I pressed my lips into a hard line, shaking my head. “You’re not investigating her?” I asked.

“No,” Trex said simply.

“Fine,” I snapped. “You’re a hotshot.”

I could see Trex smiling in the rearview mirror. “Thank you,” he said.

When we arrived at the hotel, I passed Darby. She waved at me, and I smiled, hoping Trex was telling the truth. I had talked her again during my fourth-ish drink, and from what I could remember, she was in Colorado Springs to start over, running away from someone or something. Darby didn’t need more trouble. She’d been hurt enough.

Tyler walked me to my room, pausing just outside my door. He looked pained over what he was about to say. “I know you’ve had a long day, but I need you to go in and pack your bags.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Trex might have gotten you out of jail, but Chief is beyond pissed. He wants you back in Estes Park. He’s already called Jojo.”

I covered my face. “Fuck. Fuck … Because of one mistake?”

“Sneaking into a restricted area, and then getting arrested is a big one.” He looked down the hall at nothing, having a hard time looking me in the eye.

“Am I out for good?”

“I don’t know. Give me some time to talk to him. I’m going to let him cool off first.”

I exhaled, wishing I could rewind the day and start over. “What about you? Are you still mad?”

Tyler’s jaw clenched, and then he folded his arms around me. I closed my eyes, pressing my cheek against his chest. There was nowhere safer for me than Tyler. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he said.

“Stay with me,” I whispered.

He kissed my hair. “A car will be waiting for you outside in fifteen minutes. Chief wants you on the road heading north. I’m just here long enough to make sure you’re packed, checked out, and on the road. Then I have to get back to fire camp.”

“You’re not coming with me?”

His eyebrows pulled together. “I have a job to do, Ellie. You have to go home.”

My eyes filled with tears. “I don’t have anywhere to go.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a single key, the light glinting off the silver. “Lone Tree Village in Estes. 111 F. We’re never there, so it’s mostly storage. I’m not even sure if there are sheets on my bed. It’s not a penthouse, but it’s a place to stay. My bedroom is the last door on the left.”

I took the key, sniffing. “Tyler…”

“Just … take it,” he said. “I’ll be home in a couple of weeks. We can figure it out then.” He stepped back, waving to me before turning for the elevator.

“I thought you were supposed to make sure I get in the car?” I asked.

He stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can watch you leave.”

My bottom lip trembled, and I held the key to the sensor, hearing the lock click before I pressed down on the handle and pushed through. My clothes were still laid out, ready to go, but I would be lucky to ever get to go on a call again.

The wall felt cold against my back as I slid down the scuffed white paint to the aged orange and brown carpet. My phone buzzed, and I held it to my ear.

“Ellie?” Jojo said.

I covered my face with my hand. “I fucked up, Jojo,” I said, pressing my lips together to stifle a sob.

“You’re right. You did. Now you need to pack your things and get right back on the wagon. Do you hear me?”

“Do I still have a job?”

“You know you do. I’m not saying what you did is okay, but it’s an uphill battle. You lost this one. Come home, and let’s start preparing for the next one.”

My face crumbled, and I took in a deep breath. “I don’t deserve it, but thank you,” I whispered.

“Hang up, pack, and get downstairs. The car will be there soon. When you get home, go straight to bed and I’ll pick you up for work first thing in the morning. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Stand up. Clean slate starts now.”

I took a deep breath, simultaneously standing and pressing END. It didn’t take long to pack the few things I’d laid out, and then I was out the door, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Darby dropped the marker she was using for her newest doodle masterpiece, and stood up. “Ellie? Are you okay?”

I paused at her desk, placing my key card in front of her. “Yeah. I have to leave.”

“You have to? Why?”

“I screwed up. I’m being sent home.”

Darby shook her head in disbelief even when she’d heard it from me. “Screwed up how? Just because you were drinking?”

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Trex can explain it to you.”

“If you ever come back … be sure to stop by and say hi.”

I smiled. “I will.”

A man older than my father, who dressed like a Baptist preacher and smelled like cheap aftershave, offered a contrived smile before taking my backpack. The cowlick on the top of his white hair was misbehaving, despite what looked like a quarter cup of gel he’d combed through it.

I waited for him to open the door, but he opened the trunk and threw in my bag. I opened the door myself, thinking the sticky carpet and trash tucked in the back of the passenger seat was the perfect ride for a woman who’d just left county jail.

The two and half hours to Estes Park seemed especially long when having to breathe in the smell of mothballs and possibly a fart or two. When we reached city limits, the driver turned his head while still keeping his eyes on the road.

“Do you have an address?”

“Lone Tree Village. Building F.”

He sighed. “Do you have an address?”

“Hang on,” I said, looking through my phone. “Thirteen-ten Manford Avenue.”

The driver poked at his GPS and then sat back, resuming his mission to ignore me.

We passed through a part of town I was unfamiliar with, and then turned onto a side road, driving for another two minutes. The Lone Tree Village sign made me feel excited for half a second, but then I remembered most of the things I’d taken from my parents were still at the Alpine barracks, and all that I had was inside my backpack.

The driver drove straight to the back where Tyler’s building sat. He rounded the back and then pulled into the first free parking space he found.

I stepped out onto the asphalt and waited for the driver to fetch my backpack. He handed it to me and turned for his door.

“Excuse me?” I said, following him.

He turned, annoyed. “It’s been taken care of.”

“Oh,” I said, watching him open the door and sit behind the wheel. I took a step back when he reversed, watching him drive away and then looking up at building F.

111 was upstairs, so I climbed the first set, turned at the landing, and climbed another. Some of the clay-colored slats of the vinyl siding were missing, but it was in a nice neighborhood and the outside lawn was manicured—not that I was in any position to be fussy.

I pulled Tyler’s key from my pocket and twisted it in the bolt lock. The mechanism clicked, and my heart began to pound. Standing in front of Tyler’s apartment, preparing to enter his personal space for the first time without him there, felt wrong.

The knob felt cold and unwelcoming in my hand, but I twisted it anyway, pushing through the beige door to a living room full of furniture and boxes. Tyler had warned me that the apartment was serving as a storage unit, but there were several stacks, leaving a walkway to a kitchen on the left and a hallway straight ahead.

I followed the path to the hall, feeling along the wall for a light switch. When my fingertips touched the toggle, I pressed up, illuminating a twenty-foot-long hall with eggshell walls and beige carpet—two doors on the right, and one on the left. I pushed through the closest to find a bathroom. I dropped my backpack and quickly unbuttoned my jeans, shoving them down to my knees, sitting on the cold toilet seat and moaning as I relieved myself for the first time in almost twelve hours.

The faucet took a while to offer warm water. I looked around before resorting to drying my hands on my jeans. I gripped the edge of the sink as I tried to wait out the nausea and dizziness overwhelming me. I breathed in and was instantly comforted—the apartment smelled like Tyler.

With my bag in hand, I stopped at the end of the hall between two doors. I pushed the one on the right, seeing a room with more stacks of boxes, a stripped bed, and a nightstand. The door Tyler said was his was closed, so I twisted the knob and walked through, the door hitting a stack of boxes and knocking all but two of them to the ground.

“Shit,” I hissed, dropping my bag to reassemble them.

I wiped my brow, and then walked across the room to open a window. A fresh breeze blew into my face, and I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath. I had been banished from the only place I’d felt at home, cast away from the only people who felt like family. I was alone inside a dusty storage house of a man whose dick I was more familiar with than his hopes and dreams.

I rested my elbow on the windowsill, unable to fight the fluttering of my eyes. From that vantage point, I could see the mountains that huddled around the barracks. My eyes filled with tears, and they spilled out and over my cheeks, unrelenting until my entire body began to shake. I wanted to be in that rickety building with cold showers and uncomfortable beds so bad it hurt. I sniffed a few times and wiped my nose with my wrist, licking my lips, wishing for another five or six rounds of vodka tonic—hell, I’d have been happy with a twelve-pack of cheap beer, anything to make the pain go away.

I leaned against the wall, trying to keep the landscape in sight, but the only thing to do was to thirst for what I couldn’t have, and close my eyes.

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