Chapter 29
Twenty-nine
Ryker
I’m just looking at Ginny’s message when Sadie calls later that evening. The first words out of her mouth are, “She’s here.”
I blow out a relieved breath. “Yes. She just texted to let me know. Can I talk to her?”
“Just a second,” she says.
There’s a muffled sound, Sadie calling Ginny’s name, and then a new voice comes on the line.
“Hello?”
My heart cracks. “Ginny. Jesus. Are you okay?”
“Eh, I’ve been better,” she says.
“Talk to me. What happened? I got a text from an unknown number, but they didn’t mention you by name.”
“That was probably Josie.” She sighs. “Gran was waiting for me at the caretaker house last night when I got home from your place...”
My hands curl into fists as she tells me the rest of the story. I pace across the room, fury pulsing in my veins. “So she fired you and kicked you out?”
“That’s the short of it, yes.” Her voice hitches, but she pushes on. “I knew she’d do this eventually.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” I ask.
“Because…I think I didn’t want you to see me like that,” she says. “Homeless, jobless, tossed out like trash. I don’t want to be your…project.”
Project? Why doesn’t she understand that I want to be her protector?
“I need to stand on my own as I sort this out,” she adds. “Even if I’m falling apart. Especially then.”
“Ginny.” My throat’s thick now. “That’s—Jesus, I’m so sorry.” I want to throw something. Yell. Do anything to take this pain off her shoulders. “I just want to support you, not take over. I promise.”
“I know. Thank you.” Her breath catches. “I hated being part of the Dempsey family drama, but I didn’t realize how much of me was wrapped up in it until it was gone. I just need time to figure things out. I want to make the choices that are right for me, not act because I have to.”
I press a hand over my eyes. “I understand,” I tell her. “But I know you can do this. You’re not alone.”
“Thanks,” she says again. “Like I said, I’ll be in touch again soon. But this isn’t your mess to clean up.”
“Ginny, are you sure you—”
“I just need some rest,” she assures me. “Things will look brighter in the morning.”
“Okay,” I say reluctantly, because what else can I do?
But after we hang up, I feel restless, shaky. Like I’m not where I need to be.
I text Sadie.
Me: I’m on my way over. Please let Ginny know I’m coming.
Sadie: Hold on. It’s been a tough day. She hasn’t slept, and she’s really trying hard to sort all of this out. I think give her tonight and connect with her tomorrow.
That’s not at all what I want to hear, but I can’t ignore every bit of feedback I receive. Ginny is safe, and she has been clear about what she wants. I need to respect that.
Me: Okay, but if anything changes or if you need anything at all, please be in touch.
I pocket the phone, trying to calm myself. I think of Ginny curled in my bed last night for the first time in so long, her head tucked beneath my chin, her laughter low and unguarded. I know that felt right to both of us.
I have to believe we can be there again. Surely, this is ultimately a good thing for Ginny, even taking our relationship out of the equation. Because the Dempseys, or at least Evelyn Dempsey, cares more about grudges than they do about their own family members.
I press my palm to my chest, trying to calm the storm there.
My family fights loud and loves louder. We slam doors and say things we don’t mean, but we always come back to the table. Always. Being cut off? Disowned? It’s unthinkable. We don’t throw each other away.
I drag a hand through my hair, guilt heavy in my throat. Ginny deserves someone in her corner. Someone who won’t just say they love her but will choose her. Every single time. And I do.
I can’t fix everything, but I can show her she’s not alone.
She’s mine. I have to show her she’s still herself, even without her family behind her.
I’ll give her tonight, like she asked, but tomorrow is a new day.
I’m not letting her walk through this without knowing I’m here for whatever she needs.