Page 21 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
And this time, I couldn’t even deny it.
* * *
I stood up from my hard plastic seat in the waiting room when Ridge walked through the door.
After my shift, I drove straight to the police station and waited for hours. I wasn’t even sure why I came. To make sure he was okay, I guess.
Nobody had ever fought for me. Nobody except for Ridge.
And I didn’t want him to get in trouble because of me. They could have thrown the book at him. Public intoxication. Underage drinking. Assault.
But they’d obviously let him go because he was standing right across from me, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.
There was no bravado, no cocky swagger or smirk. Just raw pain etched on his features.
He scrubbed a hand down his face and tugged on his messy hair before his bloodshot eyes met mine. Underneath his unzipped hoodie, his gray T-shirt was ripped and splattered with blood.
He looked like he needed a hot shower, a good night’s sleep, and a hug.
I stuffed my hands in my jacket pockets and watched him wage an internal war with himself.
He glanced at the front desk, then back at me as if he couldn’t decide whether to flee or face me. But Ridge wasn’t a runner. He stayed, and he fought.
Lowering his head, he grabbed the back of his neck and let out a shuddering breath that rocked me to the core and forced my feet to bridge the gap between us.
When I was standing right in front of him, I searched my brain for the right words.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” That was the first thing that came out of my mouth.
“Who is he?”
“None of your business.”
“Yeah, of course not.” He let out a humorless laugh and his eyes darkened. “Because we mean nothing to each other, right?”
How was I supposed to answer that?
I opened my mouth to speak, to ask him why he would ever think differently but shut it again when he shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, Evie.”
“Why would you do that?” I really needed to know.
“You think I could just let something like that go? You think I can just turn a blind eye when someone hurts you?”
“I was fine. He didn’t hurt me.”
He grabbed my hand and turned it over, inspecting the bruises on my wrist. I yanked my hand away and stuffed it in my pocket.
His eyes narrowed on me. “Why are you protecting him?”
“I’m not.” I wasn’t protecting Wade. I was trying to protect Ridge. “You should have minded your own business.”
“Just tell me where to find him, and I’ll hunt him down and finish the job,” he said as if I hadn’t spoken.
“Stay out of it.”
He glanced at the front desk, and my gaze followed. A man who appeared to be in his thirties was watching us. Waiting for Ridge, I guess. But he didn’t interrupt, as if he sensed that Ridge and I needed privacy.
I took a step back. “You need to go home.”
