Page 150 of California Wild

She didn’t say anything right away. And neither did he.

The silence was taut, stretched so thin it buzzed in his ears. His eyes dragged over her—face, throat, legs—searching. But she looked okay. Flushed from the stage. Still breathing.

Then finally—

“What happened?” Her voice was hoarse, tight. “Were you there?”

But even before he could answer, her eyes dropped.

To his hand.

The busted one.

His right fist sat on his thigh, knuckles scraped and red, one knuckle cracked deep and already bruising, the skin split and swelling. Dried blood still clinging to the nailbed. Not fresh. But not old.

His stomach coiled.

“Yeah,” Jesse said, quiet but steady. “I was there. I wanted to see you sing.”

He saw it click.

The recognition.

The stillness in her spine. The way her arms tensed, like her whole body suddenly didn’t know what to do with itself.

And Jesse just sat there.

Let her see all of it.

Didn’t hide the damage.

Didn’t cover it.

Didn’t lie.

Because if he was going to lose her tonight, he was gonna go down honest.

“After the show, it was chaotic backstage,” she said, slower now. “Zoe told me Caiden got punched in the alley.”

Jesse didn’t look away. “I did it.”

The words hung there. Heavy. No apology in them. No regret.

Just truth.

Hayley stared at him. Eyes wide. Lips parted. She hadn’t moved from the door.

He didn’t speak again. Didn’t explain it. Just… waited.

For her to yell.

For her to turn.

For her to walk out.

The fridge hummed behind him. A car passed outside. The second hand on the clock ticked loud enough to echo.

But she stayed frozen.

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