14. Blake
Blake
I stop by my grandmother’s to check on her after dropping Marcus off. My mind is so preoccupied with thoughts of what I need to say to Callie that it takes me a moment to notice both the Mercedes parked at the end of Callie’s driveway and the perfectly coiffed woman standing on her doorstep.
“Can I help you?” I ask, making the woman turn. When she does, I suck in a sharp breath, taking in this woman’s striking resemblance to Callie. This must be her mother.
“My name’s Brenda Roberts. I’m looking for my daughter Callie,” she tells me, her cultured voice soft and hesitant.
“She’s out for dinner with friends at the minute. I can tell her you stopped by,” I offer, feeling fucking awkward when her eyes start to well with tears. If there is one thing I can’t stand, it’s seeing a woman cry. It brings out every single one of my protective instincts.
“I don’t know how well you know my daughter, Mr…” She trails off, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.
“Price, Blake Price.” I step forward and offer her my hand to shake. “I’m Callie’s man.”
Her eyes widen a fraction at that, again reminding me of her daughter. “Well, Mr. Price, I’m not my daughter’s favorite person.” She twists her hands together, looking uncomfortable confiding in a stranger.
I’m right there with you, lady.
“I don’t know what else to do. I can’t fix things between us if she won’t let me talk to her,” she adds quietly, dabbing at her tears with a tissue she pulls from her pocket.
“I’ll talk to her,” I answer automatically, then wince, trying not to picture how well that conversation will go. Marcus might be right about his hero-complex theory.
“I appreciate that, Mr. Price, but I’m not sure it will matter. I shouldn’t have come. Maybe she would just be better off if I left her alone.” She sniffs again. “Tell me, Mr. Price, is she happy?” she asks with a tortured whisper before crying in earnest.
Christ, I really hate it when women cry.
“Hey, please don’t cry,” I say awkwardly and just about manage to refrain from patting her on the back. “I’ll talk to her. I can’t make you any promises because I have a habit of fucking up where Callie is concerned,” I tell her, hoping for a smile, but she continues to sob. I carry on, needing to get out of here fast. “Tell me where you’re staying. I’ll call you when I’ve had a chance to talk to her.” I give an excuse to leave. “I have to go and pick her up now anyway.” Now that I think about it though, that’s not a bad idea. I don’t want her to go to bed tonight without me beside her.
“Oh, thank you, that would be wonderful.” She smiles, dabbing her eyes with a tissue once more before handing me a card for the Eagleton Hotel on the edge of town. “Thank you again, Mr. Price, you don’t know what this means to me.” She offers me a soft smile that’s so reminiscent of Callie’s before turning to leave.
I watch as she climbs into her car, staring until she turns out of sight before making my way to my own car.
As I head over to Wade and Olivia’s place, I try to come up with what I want to say. I can’t touch the subject of Callie’s mother until I’ve fixed things between us. But fuck if I know where to start.
By the time I pull up, I’m no closer to figuring out what to say than I was when I left. At the very least, I need to apologize. Climbing out of my car, I spot Callie’s junker and frown when I notice the condition her tires are in. I’ll need to get them changed—they’re almost bald in places and won’t offer any grip. I wonder how receptive she would be to my getting her a new car, then snort at the thought of how that conversation would go. She’d likely run me over just to prove a point.
A light turns on above the porch before the front door opens, and Wade steps out onto the doorstep with his arms crossed.
“Fancy seeing you here,” he calls but doesn’t make a move to let me in, the asshole.
“Fuck off, Wade,” I grunt, not in the mood for him right now. “I fucked up, now let me fix it.”
He stares at me with a hard look that I’m sure he uses on many a criminal, but that shit won’t work on me. Not with June as my grandmother. That woman could death-stare the Grim Reaper and come out on top.
“She’s just getting her jacket and shoes on.”
I sigh before turning to look behind him.
“And there she is. Callie, someone’s here to see you.”
I watch her over Wade’s shoulder as she lifts her head to look at me. Her smile falls from her face, and that hurts more than I care to admit.
“Callie,” I greet her in a soft voice.
“I thought I told you not to come,” she answers, but she doesn’t sound surprised to see me.
“I need to talk to you. It’s important,” I tell her and watch her shoulders slump in defeat.
“Can I drive you home?” God, I need to touch her. I want her to come to me, but she hesitates in the doorway, shaking her head.
“I brought my car.”
“If you leave your keys, I’ll drive it back in the morning for you,” Wade offers.
She looks at me before turning to Wade. With a reluctant sigh, she nods. “Okay, thanks, Wade, and thank you both for dinner,” she says, talking over her shoulder to Olivia, who steps up behind her.
“Anytime, Callie,” Olivia replies before giving her a hug and scowling at me.
Yeah, yeah, I know. I’ll fix it, I tell her silently.
Callie says her goodbyes before passing Wade her key. She folds her arms across her chest and finally walks down the steps toward me.
I wait until Wade closes the door before stepping forward and wrapping my arms around her, breathing in her strawberry-scented hair. As soon as she’s in my arms, where she belongs, I relax.
“I’m sorry. I’m a dick. I should have minded my own business,” I admit, knowing both she and Marcus are right. Whatever her history is, it’s hers to live with.
She’ll let me in when she’s ready.
“Come on, let’s get you home.” I tug her toward my car. Once I have the passenger door open, I lift her inside, all without her making a peep.
She doesn’t speak until I’m buckled in and pulling out of the driveway. “I thought you were going to give me some space.” Her voice is quiet and lacking its usual warmth.
“You were the one who wanted space, but I never agreed to that. Call me a dick, throw something at me, but don’t ask me to stay away from you. I feel you pulling away. If I give you space, I might never get you back.”
I might not be ready to analyze our relationship, but I know I’m in too deep to let her go. She’s dug her way under my skin and if I want to keep her there, I need to give a little more than what I’ve been taking. So, I start talking, surprising us both.
“The six of us were as close as brothers,” I begin, making her turn to look at me. I can feel her staring at my profile as I focus on the road, silently urging me to go on.
“It was our second tour. We were in an area that had been deemed safe, delivering medical and food supplies to one of the hospitals. We had been there a few times and there was this little boy, Malik, who I took a shine to. He was four years old and missing his left leg and right arm below the elbow, thanks to a landmine.”
“Oh god,” she whispers, reaching for my hand, linking our fingers together.
“I remember that day. It was a billion degrees. I’d been bitching about the heat and the sand all morning. Benny shoved me out of the Humvee with the first box of supplies, telling me to suck it up, buttercup. I flipped him off and dropped off the supplies but stopped in to see Malik before collecting any more. It’s what saved my life.”
Her hand squeezes mine tightly at that, but I carry on, forcing the words out before they become stuck in my throat.
“Insurgents came out of nowhere and opened fire, took out the Humvee and half the hospital with an RPG. I grabbed Malik and the four other kids in the room and hid in the storage cellar beneath the ground. Every fiber of me wanted to go help my brothers. I could hear the gunfire, telling me they were fighting back despite being outnumbered, but I couldn’t leave the babies unprotected.”
I turn to look at her with haunted eyes and see she has tears streaming down her face. “Oh god, Blake, I’m so sorry.”
I squeeze her hand and pull over to the side of the road, switching off the engine while I stare blankly ahead and finish my story.
“I listened as the gunfire grew less and less until there was nothing left but silence. I knew... I knew they were gone; everyone was dead, and I left them there. I’d left them to die. I could smell the blood in the air before I ever saw them. If I had?—”
Callie cuts me off, unclipping her seatbelt and climbing into my lap. She grabs my face with both hands, her wet eyes staring into mine, forcing me to hear her words.
“It was not your fault,” she whispers, her breath skating over my skin.
“If I had fought with them?—”
She kisses me hard, shutting me up, before pulling back. “You’d be dead. Malik would be dead, and so would those babies you saved. You’re not God, Blake. You can’t save the world. But you are a hero to those kids you saved, and your teammates who fought so valiantly would be so fucking proud of you. You mar their memory by wearing a guilt that’s not yours to carry. And if they were anything like you, they would kick your ass for blaming yourself,” she tells me, making me laugh through my tears.
“Thank you,” I whisper. I feel like a little of the weight has been lifted from my shoulders. It will take more than her words to get my head on straight, but knowing she isn’t casting blame on me or looking at me in disgust helps.
And she’s right. They would be so pissed at me right now.
“Thank you for sharing with me.” She kisses me softly. I grip her tightly, pouring every ounce of gratitude into it and leaving us both breathless.
“I really am sorry about earlier. My mouth tends to run away with me. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know. Lucky for me, your runaway mouth is good at many other things, too.” She smiles against my lips.
“Oh really, and what might they be?” I query as she laughs and climbs back into the passenger seat.
“Oh, you know, the usual voodoo kisses and eating my cookie,” she casually throws out.
I bark out a surprised laugh, the tension and melancholy mood breaking around us.
“Will you forgive me if I promise to show you exactly what this mouth can do?” I ask with a smile, pulling back onto the quiet street.
“Hmm… that is a very tempting offer.” She pretends to contemplate it for a minute, tapping her thumb against her jaw before smiling. “Fine. I accept these terms.”
I reach over and snag her hand again and place it on my thigh, needing to feel her touch.
We sit quietly for a little while, listening to the radio play country music in the background before she speaks again.
“I get that you were only trying to help me, but you have no idea what happened, and I really don’t want to keep having this conversation with you until I’m ready. Can we just save it for now?”
I pull into her driveway and shut off the engine, turning to find her eyes on me.
“I just want you to be happy, baby. I’ll fuck up again because I have a penis—it’s what we do—but don’t shut me out, okay?” I tell her preemptively, remembering I still need to talk to her about her mother, but that can keep until tomorrow. Both of us have had enough for tonight.
We head up the steps to the front door, me taking her key and opening it wide for her to enter.
“I won’t shut you out anymore,” she agrees, dumping her bag on the table beside the door. “Now, how about you show me what all the fuss is about when it comes to make-up sex,” she teases.
She freezes when a voice speaks from the still-open door behind us.
“Callie?”