The Staying Kind by Cerian Hebert Page A

because he had no real connection with Rio and her life up until a few days ago. Jessa’s problems were his because she was his life. Somehow he had to try to heal her hurts.
    Instead of tackling this problem now, Travis settled at his desk in the corner of the living room and switched on his computer. He could find out more at work. In the meantime, he might discover something about Rio on the internet.
    He typed her name into the search engine field. Nothing came up. Next he typed Presley and Buffalo, New York. He could only assume Rio and her mother shared the same last name. Rio hadn’t mentioned a father, so there was a fair chance the father had never been in the picture to begin with.
    A search for the name Presley brought up a handful of articles, most of them having nothing to do with Rio’s family, unless they were somehow related to a real estate agent who’d sold a shopping plaza, or another Presley who ran a marathon.
    One item caught his attention, a brief newspaper-like archived item about a Katrina Presley who’d been arrested for possession and prostitution, though the article dealt more with the man she’d been living with than her own criminal past.
    Details were scant. From the article Travis gleaned that the man had been murdered in his home, the home he shared with Katrina Presley. No picture accompanied the article, but apparently the home had been under the local police department’s scrutiny quite often.
    A ten-year old had been removed from the house. The article suggested he’d been the one who’d been responsible for the killing. There was no mention of a sister.
    Travis jotted down the names of her siblings on a pad of paper next to the keyboard then did a search, first for a Storm Presley. The unusual name helped to narrow the results a bit. Only one relevant site came up. A Storm Presley had been arrested for armed robbery two years ago.
    The same Storm Presley served years in a juvenile detention center with no explanation of why he’d been there given. It wasn’t too difficult to link the incidences. Storm had only been out of prison for about two years before landing himself back there.
    Travis swore under his breath. This was what Rio hadn’t wanted to talk about, and he could understand why. How much heartbreak could one girl handle?
    Like being deserted by a mother who hadn’t given any indication of dissatisfaction for her life until the day she wrote a note saying she couldn’t deal with being a mother and his wife anymore.
    He’d tried to shield Jessa from those words, tried to make any kind of excuse he could for a woman who didn’t deserve being defended. He didn’t do it for Laura’s sake, however. He wanted to protect his daughter at all costs, including her heart.
    Travis shut down the computer and rubbed his eyes. He was damned tired and out of answers. Jessa wasn’t some toddler he could wrap in his arms and cuddle anymore. She was a teenager and she didn’t want anything to do with him.
    A photo of the two of them a few weeks before he’d been deployed to Afghanistan sat on the desk next to the monitor. One of the last happy moments of their lives. She’d always been his golden girl, with long flowing blonde hair, and dancing blue eyes. She looked so much like her mother.
    He didn’t let himself be bothered by the physical similarities. They were two completely different people. The way he figured Rio to be a decent person, he knew, deep in his heart, Jessa could never be like Laura.
    The last thing he wanted to do this late at night was think about his ex, or how he’d missed the signs of her discontent. He didn’t have the energy. He rubbed a hand over his face wearily. The road ahead of him would be long and hard.
    Travis pushed away from the desk. There wasn’t much to do other than go to bed. Before he did he had to see how Jessa was. She might not want to talk to him. Still, he had to give it a shot.
    Their rooms were on the second floor of the