Page 22 of When Wrecked Meets Ruined
“I don’t have a home.”
Why would he say that? “Yes, you do.”
“I just…” He pushed his hand through his hair and lowered his head. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing here. I shouldn’t even be here. It should have been me.”
Confusion pinched my brows together. “What are you talking about?”
“That guy in the car. He should have shot me instead of Elijah. It was my idea to start dealing. We both needed the money. But my best friend was the one who paid the price. And it was my fault. It was my fault, Evie.” He lifted his head, and I saw the pain and sadness in his soulful brown eyes, but I couldn’t find the words to comfort him, so I remained silent and waited for him to go on.
“He told me to go long. We were running through the streets. I grew up on the Southside of Chicago. Nothing like here, you know. And Elijah said, ‘Go long, McCallister.’” His eyes glazed over like he was back on the streets of Chicago, reliving the scene.
“I ran across the street right in front of a car, and I just laughed when the driver blared the horn and cursed at me. I was still laughing when I ran up the sidewalk, and I turned just as the ball left Elijah’s fingertips.” He pushed his hand through his hair, his eyes drifting to the wall behind me as if he could see it all playing out like a movie on the screen.
“That’s when I heard the shots being fired. The car sped past me, and the guy shot me a finger gun out the window as if to say,You’re next. It was dark, and it all happened so fast… I couldn’t even identify the car. And I always thought….” He let out a ragged breath. “I always thought it would have been better if Elijah had died as soon as the bullets went into his body. So he wouldn’t have had a chance to think about everything he’d never be able to do.”
Oh, god. My heart cracked.
I didn’t know what to do or how to help, so I did the unthinkable. I wrapped my arms around Ridge and held on tight, trying to hold all his broken pieces together. His arms came around me, and he held on to me like he was drowning, and I was his lifeline.
For his sake, I hoped that wasn’t the case. We would both go under.
I rested my cheek against his beating heart and inhaled his scent.
“I’ve never told that story to anyone,” he said when we pulled apart. I could hear it in his voice that he regretted it.
“I won’t tell anyone. Promise.”
He nodded, not meeting my eyes, and I wanted to touch him again. Smooth my hand over his furrowed brow. Brush the hair out of his face with my fingertips. Run my hands down his chest and lock him in another embrace.
Instead, I backed away. We shouldn’t even be in this police station.Heshouldn’t be here.
I wasn’t a damsel in distress. I didn’t want him to ride in like a tarnished knight and try to fix my problems or save me.
I wanted to tell him that he couldn’t kick and punch his problems away, that he had to deal with the source of his guilt, but that would make me a hypocrite.
“Let’s go home, Ridge.” – this from the man waiting by the front desk.
Ridge nodded, zipped up his sweatshirt, then pulled the hood over his messy hair and lowered his head as he walked out of the police station.
I trailed them out the front door and watched Ridge climb into the passenger seat of an SUV.
The man turned to me. He was gorgeous with chestnut-brown hair, blue eyes, and broad shoulders that looked like they could carry the weight of the world and never break a sweat.
“Hey, Jude McCallister. Ridge’s cousin.”
“Evie Bellamy. Just a girl from Ridge’s school.”
Jude smiled. “I get the feeling you’re a lot more than that.”
I had no idea what Ridge and I were to each other. But I felt like I owed this man an apology for dragging him out of bed in the middle of the night and forcing him to make a trip to the police station. “It’s my fault he ended up here tonight.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry.”
He studied my face for a moment before he spoke. “I don’t know all the details, but if Ridge beat someone up, I’m sure the other guy deserved it. It’s not the first time one of the McCallisters had to be picked up from the station for fighting, and it probably won’t be the last.”
“Are all the McCallisters fighters?”
He chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, we are. From my old man right down the line to my little guy Levi,” he said with an affectionate smile at the mention of his son. “It’s a McCallister thing. But for the most part, we only fight when there’s something worth fighting for. Or someone.”
I looked over at Ridge slumped in his seat. In the streetlight, I could just make out his face. His eyes were closed, but I got the feeling he wasn’t asleep. He was probably reliving his worst nightmare. Running for the ball as the shots rang out.
