Flight Risk (Antiques in Flight) (19 page)

As soon as Shelby said it, she regretted it. Saying those things, to Callie of all people, felt like the worst kind of betrayal.

“Well, hell, how am I supposed to keep being a bitch to you when you say that?”

Shelby smiled, couldn’t help herself. No matter how many times Mom’s words pounded into her brain about Callie being bad, about Callie being incapable of change, Shelby couldn’t see it. Callie was different, and the thought of her with Trevor wasn’t totally self-serving anymore. Trevor and Callie kind of complemented each other, and it was obvious to anyone with half a brain they had the hots for each other.

“As long as we’re being friendly, I want to talk to you about something.”

Shelby’s smile immediately died. She did not like the sound of this.

“I know you want Trevor to stay in Pilot’s Point, and I get it. He’s your brother and you want something and someone to call home. It makes sense.”

“I’m guessing there’s a but here.” Shelby slumped in her seat, kept her eyes focused on the window, prepared to ignore whatever lecture was coming.

“Whatever happened at graduation really hit him hard. Hard enough that he’s feeling so guilty he’s talking about staying.”

Shelby straightened in the seat so fast the binder clattered onto the floor below. “He is?”

Callie frowned at the reaction, clutched the steering wheel tighter. “Yes, but don’t start celebrating just yet. If he decides to stay, it’s only out of guilt. He was a wreck after graduation. I’ve never seen him so lost. But in a couple years, that guilt will wear off and he’s going to be stuck here, somewhere he never wanted to be while you graduate college and start your life somewhere else.”

Shelby’s heart twisted. She’d never meant to make Trevor feel bad with what she’d said at graduation. No one was more embarrassed by that moment than her. Being so pathetic and needy with him was not part of her plan, and she’d been so mortified by it she’d pretended it never happened.

It never occurred to her that honesty and emotion would have affected Trevor enough to get him seriously thinking about staying. She’d gone the manipulation route because she’d been so sure that would be most effective.

Her stomach churned into queasy waves as she realized why she’d thought that. It had been Mom’s method of choice when getting what she wanted. Shelby leaned her head against the cool window and closed her eyes.

“You okay?”

Shelby swallowed. No, she wasn’t okay. Ever since Mom had died, ever since her strong influence had left the house, Shelby had been realizing more and more all the ways she didn’t want to be like her mother, and all the ways she was. It made her feel disloyal and weak all at once. If she loved her mom, shouldn’t she want to be like her?

“Shelby?”

“I’m okay,” Shelby rasped.

“I thought you’d be ecstatic.”

Shelby opened her eyes, stared at the buildings of Pilot’s Point in the distance. “I want Trevor to stay, I do. I just…” She shook her head. She
should
be ecstatic, but she couldn’t fight the feeling she’d somehow done something wrong.

Callie reached over, tentatively patted her shoulder. “He should stay because he wants to, and he doesn’t want to.”

“I don’t want him so far away. I don’t want to be…”

“Alone?”

Shelby swallowed, nodded.

“It probably doesn’t mean shit to you, but you’re part of the AIF family now. You’re always welcome.”

Some warmth worked its way through the conflicting feelings in her head and stomach. “It means something.”

Callie smiled. “Good.”

“I still want him to stay.” More than anything. “But I guess you might be almost kind of right about… Well, it shouldn’t be out of guilt.”

Callie’s smile widened. “Be careful, you might give me a heart attack here.”

The past two months came into sharp focus. She’d been a selfish child, and maybe that was okay with everything she’d had to deal with, but it was time to start making some adult decisions. Some adult decisions that weren’t based on her mother. “I guess I kind of almost owe you an apology.”

“For what?”

“I guess most of my life I treated you a certain way because my mom didn’t like you.”

Callie shrugged and seemed uncomfortable. “Well, for most of your life I deserved it.”

“Yeah, you did.” Callie snorted, but Shelby couldn’t be amused by her own words. Too many emotions fought for prominence. Betrayal was winning pretty steadily. Her mother would never approve of this discussion, of Shelby’s new almost-respect for Callie. But Shelby had to do what she felt was right, even if that made her feel guilty. “I love my mom.” Her voice cracked a little, but she wasn’t going to cry.

“Of course you do. I liked your mom too, until I found out she hated my guts.”

“I don’t want to hate you or manipulate Trevor, but, Mom’s voice is in my head.” That sounded crazy, and stupid. She should have kept her mouth shut. Why was she telling this to Callie anyway?

“You can love your mom and not listen to that voice, you know? I mean, look at your brother. He took all the good things from your parents, but got rid of most of the rest. He did what they wanted, but he did it his own way.” Callie’s lips curved into a small, faraway smile, and, for Callie, Shelby figured that was as close to gushing as she got.

“You are
so
in love with him.”

Callie snorted. “I am not. We’re
friends
.”

“Yeah, friends who want to have sex.”

Callie gaped at her and Shelby shrugged.

“What? I have half a brain and eyes, don’t I? It’s pretty obvious. And very disturbing.”

“Jesus Christ,” Callie muttered, shaking her head.

“Well, whatever. You care about Trevor, right?”

Callie’s jaw tightened in tune with her hands on the steering wheel. “Right.”

“Why don’t you want him to stay then?”

She frowned at that, squeezed the steering wheel again and stared hard at the stoplight above her. “Because I want him to be happy.”

Shelby leaned forward to pick the forgotten binder off the ground. “That doesn’t seem like a whole answer to me.”

“It’s the only answer I’ve got.”

Shelby smiled, hugging the binder to her chest. Suddenly she felt a lot better. Callie and Trevor were getting closer and closer, and there were two and half months until September. Plenty of time for them to finally admit their feelings for one another.

Shelby just had to decide if it was still manipulation to give them a little push in the right direction.

Trevor stared at the list in front of him. He’d labeled it the Happiness List, and so far there wasn’t a whole lot to be happy about.

Seattle was killing Pilot’s Point. It had his job, freedom, his own place that didn’t remind him of his parents, a decent gym, Puget Sound, stuff to do at night. All he had for Pilot’s Point was less guilt and Callie, and she’d been right to tell him that wasn’t fair.

So, he had made a deal with himself. As long as Seattle outranked Pilot’s Point on the happy list, he’d plan on going back. If Pilot’s Point ever made some kind of miraculous comeback, he’d stay.

He couldn’t understand why part of him hoped for the miraculous comeback.

The low murmur of voices outside the door was a welcome distraction. Dan was likely dropping Shelby off from their date. Trevor didn’t eavesdrop, but if the voices went silent for too long, he usually pretended he had to take out the garbage or get the mail.

Shelby knew what he was doing, but it wasn’t going to stop him from doing it. In fact, he had a really great idea for the next time. He’d go dig out one of his old gun holsters and put his gun in it as he walked out with the trash. Unloaded of course, but Dan didn’t need to know that.

Trevor added “scaring Dan” to his happy list, though he wasn’t quite sure it counted. After all, Shelby and Dan wouldn’t be a part of Pilot’s Point come August. He scratched an asterisk next to it.

The voices quieted, but only for a moment before Shelby pushed the front door open. Casually, Trevor folded the list and shoved it into his back pocket.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Instead of disappearing to her room like she usually did after a date with Dan, she sat down next to him on the couch.

“Who’s winning?” she asked, staring at the TV screen.

He hadn’t been paying attention, so he had no clue. “Lost track. I heard something interesting today.”

Shelby fidgeted, kept her eyes on the screen. “What’s that?”

“You went with Callie to meet with Dana.”

Shelby shrugged defensively. “Yeah, so?”

“Let me repeat that.
You
went with
Callie
to
help
. You see how this is a hard thing for me to understand.”

Shelby rolled her eyes. “Maybe Callie’s not the worst person in the world.”

Trevor clutched his chest, gasped. “Oh my God, the world must be ending.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she muttered, but even Shelby couldn’t keep from smiling.

Miracles must exist because he was beginning to think Callie and Shelby were actually on the path to friendship.

“I’ve been thinking,” Shelby said. She shifted and pulled out a folded piece of paper from her own pocket. “About graduation.”

Trevor sat up a little straighter, swallowed. They were finally going to talk about it? Shit. He’d really prefer to leave it alone.

“I shouldn’t have said… I was sad and missing Mom and Dad and I didn’t mean it.” She stared intently at the paper in her hands and Trevor was glad he didn’t have to meet her eyes.

Trevor opened his mouth to say something to diffuse the moment, to shrug it all off, but no words came out.

“All of a sudden I kind of panicked. All those other people had these big families and I thought if you left, I’d be alone.”

“Even if I’m not here, you’re not alone. You can always call, visit. I’m not leaving
you
.”

“I know.” She began unfolding her piece of paper. “You’d do almost anything for me.”

It was the almost that had guilt stabbing at him.

“I do want you to stay in Pilot’s Point, but I think there’s a compromise somewhere.”

“A compromise?”

She shoved the wrinkled piece of paper at him. “Here.”

It was a printed out sheet of paper with a list of FBI Agencies in the Midwest. Next to each city’s listing were handwritten notes of how far away each one was from Pilot’s Point and UNI.

“I don’t want you to be miserable,” Shelby said, her eyes meeting his for the first time. “But Seattle is so far away. I don’t know how everything works, but I thought maybe you could transfer closer. Somewhere I wouldn’t have to hop on a plane if I needed you.”

Trevor’s mouth gaped and he looked down at the list.
Kansas City
,
220 miles from Pilot’s Point, 330 Miles from UNI. Springfield, IL, 169 miles from Pilot’s Point, 330 miles from UNI
.

It went on and on, going through the majority of the field offices in the Midwest. A lot of work had been put into this list, and, well, it made sense. It was another option.

Like he needed another fucking option.

The realization dawned on him quick and clear, and when he looked up at Shelby, his jaw clenched hard. “What did Callie say to you?”

Shelby’s brows knit together. “Nothing.”

“Then where’d all this compromise bullshit come from?” He pushed off the couch, letting the piece of paper fall to the ground. Now it wasn’t just stay or go, it was stay or go or, hey, move to any handful of FBI offices.

Trevor had no doubt Callie had gotten to Shelby somehow. Shelby wanted him to stay. Compromise was not in a Steele’s vocabulary.

Shelby stood too, clenching her fists together. “It’s not bullshit. It’s better than you going back to Seattle. I want you to be happy.”

“Now I know Callie said something to you because a day ago you could give a shit about my happiness.”

She snapped her head back like it’d been a blow. Almost immediately tears filled her eyes.

Great. Congratulations, Trev. You’re the biggest tool in the world. Why don’t you go slap her in the face while you’re at it?

“Just like you didn’t give a shit about mine before Mom died?” She didn’t cry, she held on to those tears, but that didn’t help Trevor feel any less like an ass.

“Shelby—”

“Screw you, Trevor,” she all but spat. “I was trying to be nice, to find a solution that would make us both happy.”

“You’re right.” Trevor held up his hands in surrender. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

She seemed skeptical of his sudden turnaround, but he didn’t have the energy to fight her anymore. What was the point? They never seemed able to find the same wavelength. The idea they never would made him immeasurably sad.

“I’ll go throw this away.” She picked up the discarded piece of paper.

“No, I want to keep it,” Trevor replied, holding out his hand.

On a sigh, she handed it to him. “Do whatever you want. I’m done caring.” With that she trudged up the stairs like the weight of the world was on her shoulders.