Something to Believe In (The Renegade Saints Book 4) by Ella Fox Page A

my lips with a napkin and nodded. “It’s an amazing job, but you’re right, it’s far from glamorous. I think it would be more so if we were stationary but all the moving around is brutal. I’ve only been here a few weeks but I’ve already forgotten where I was in the country twice. And don’t even get me started on the time changes. My body is all over the place with that.”
    She nodded her agreement as she finished chewing a piece of her French roll. “It’s really something. By the time it’s over everyone will be completely fried. Gavin normally comes home and refuses to leave the house for at least a week. He says he needs the transition time to get his head around being normal again. It’s part of why I’ve always chosen to do a week or two here and there instead of prolonged periods. At least until now. I’m staying indefinitely.”
    I swallowed my spoonful of French onion soup and raised a brow in confusion. “What about your job?”
    I didn’t know her well enough to detail exactly what she did, but I knew she loved the office she worked in. I couldn’t believe she would just up and leave it, so I assumed she’d been let go.
    Her eyes darted away before she looked down at her soup, stirring it mindlessly. After a lengthy pause, she looked back up. “I quit.”
    The way she said it was almost robotic. Had I not seen the sheen of tears in her eyes, I might’ve assumed she didn’t care at all.
    “Gab—erm, I mean Bree,” I murmured, “are you okay?”
    Taking a deep breath, she sat up straight. “I’ve had a rough few months, but I’m not ready to talk about it just yet,” she explained. “For now, let’s just pretend this is an extended vacation for me.”
    “Of course,” I assured her. “Whatever you want.”
    Looking up at me, she smiled. “You really are the sweetest,” she said softly. “I’m so glad you’re here. It’s like fate knew I needed someone who would understand.”
    Reaching across the table, I squeezed her hand. “I’m here whenever you want to talk.”
    “Do you two know each other?”
    My eyes widened as I looked up and found myself staring into Tyson’s eyes.

 
    W hen I walked into the room where dinner was being served, I was happy to see Daisy and Bree sitting together. Bree needed friends and Daisy was sweet to everyone, which made her a good choice. It wasn’t like I’d tried to stay away from her because she was an asshole, quite the opposite in fact. As I crossed the room toward them it dawned on me they didn’t look like strangers. It wasn’t like they appeared to be lifelong friends or anything, but they definitely seemed to know each other.
    “Do you two know each other?” I asked.
    Daisy’s eyes widened a fraction as she immediately turned to Bree, who nodded her head. My antenna went up as I wondered why my question had made her uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if I’d asked anything unusual.
    “Daisy and I know each other from group,” Bree explained. “It’s a small world.”
    She didn’t need to elaborate, since I knew exactly what group she was referring to. It was a suicide bereavement support group she’d been attending for the last few years. Daisy coughed uncomfortably as her eyes flew up to meet mine before she dropped her gaze back down to the table. Bree noticed and reached across the table to take Daisy’s hand.
    “It’s okay,” she assured her. “Tyson understands.”
    A look of relief crossed Daisy’s face. “It’s been my experience that some people get uptight when suicide comes up,” she said softly. “It’s like a dirty secret, something people don’t talk about.”
    I nodded my understanding. It had taken a couple of years to talk Bree into getting counseling. From there, it took the counselor almost six months to talk her into joining the support group. More than most people, I got how certain tragedies made people uncomfortable. In my case, the shame of another person’s actions had weighed almost as