12. Callie
Chapter 12
Callie
Trigger warning: On page panic attack.
Maverick’s face colliding with the bull’s skull.
The crack loud enough to reach me in the stands and then… blood. Crimson pouring down his nose, covering his lips, soaking his shirt. Darkness crowds the corners of my vision, static filling my ears as my heart bangs hard enough in my chest to break my ribs.
I know this feeling. Rapid breaths, coming out so fast I can’t speak, growing more light-headed by the second. The only thing breaking through is my overwhelming need to get as far away from here as possible.
The daughter of the great Harper Ridge Ranch passing out on live TV is not something I want to experience. Not when I promised my mom I’m okay. Not when Maverick and Colt don’t know.
My fingers skim the walls as I take the hallway corners too fast, feet racing to escape before everything goes black.
Pressure builds behind my eyes as I search through rooms, finding them all occupied.
I need somewhere quiet. Somewhere hidden. Somewhere no one will find me.
I nearly miss the plain wood door to my right, so inconspicuous it blends into the wall.
The sign says Custodian.
If I could breathe, I’m sure relief would flood me at the sight of the empty space. Instead, my knees give out the second I close the door behind me.
Weak and scared. Two words I never want to describe myself.
From experience, this will end eventually whether by passing out or simply time, I can’t be sure.
Red fills the back of my scrunched lids… blood… Maverick’s blood.
That vision morphs into an old one, locked away, shoved deep inside me.
It shakes and rattles loose, the binding not strong enough to keep the memories sealed anymore.
All I can see is my dad on the stretcher.
Blood covering his head, soaking his copper hair until it turns blood red. His white face, unmoving hands.
My lungs scream, but I can’t fill them, panting over and over but getting no real breath.
A deep, instinctual fear shudders through me.
Rationally, I know it’ll be okay that once I pass out, my body will take over for my broken mind.
Because that’s what it is. Broken.
But nothing can overpower centuries of primal instinct.
The less oxygen I get, the more I panic, trapped in a vicious cycle.
I pull my knees to my chest, tucking my forehead against them, and try to count like my therapist taught me.
Each number is supposed to slow my breathing… but it’s too late.
I’m too far gone, the numbers spilling out faster and faster.
I don’t notice the door opening.
I barely register the light filtering in.
Vaguely, I hear my name whispered, then shouted but it’s too far away to reach me.
I’m so deep inside myself the world is distant, muffled.
Someone shakes my shoulders, but it barely registers above my shuddering.
I want to say, Just leave me alone… don’t look at me , but all I can do is gasp.
This time, my name comes clearly.
My head is captured in firm hands and then lips press hard against mine.
They’re warm and soft, and my body responds on instinct, opening to them.
“Breathe with me, Wildflower,” Maverick commands, and I follow.
Inhaling his exhale.
Exhaling into him.
In and out.
In and out.
He’s steady. Grounding. Controlling the pace until the static grows fainter and my senses start returning.
Touch. The feel of his lips grazing mine, the warmth of his steady breath, the firm press of fingers cradling my head.
Smell. Hints of forest and leather filling my nose.
Sound. His calming words coaxing me back to the present.
“That’s it. Breathe, baby. Come back to me. You’re doing so well. Just like that.”
Sight. Dark brown eyes filling my vision.
Maverick.
His eyes are wide as they search mine, his thumbs wiping away my tears.
“You scared me,” he says, his voice breaking around the vowels.
“What if you died,” I rasp, my throat raw.
He drops his forehead to mine, trying to reassure me.
“I’m okay. Just a broken nose—nothing that hasn’t happened before.”
I shake my head, tears stinging. “It could’ve been?—”
Maverick shifts against me, easily lifting me onto his lap, securing me sideways against his chest.
The heat of him chases away the lingering chill from my panic attack.
Unsteady, I rest my weight on him, trusting his hold.
“Look at me,” he says, his mouth grazing my temple.
When I don’t immediately move, he guides my chin up with his thumb until he’s all I see.
“It’s a little crooked. Gives me a more rugged look, right?”
The always serious Maverick attempts to cheer me up with a shaken smile.
I can’t help but give in.
“It’s distinct, I’ll give you that.”
His brows pull together as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment.”
Even teasing, his voice stays low and gentle, like he knows I’m not ready to return to normal yet, and he’ll give me all the time I need.
He’s created a bubble around us, and I want to live in it forever if he’ll let me.
It’s my turn to really look at him.
Besides the small cut across the bridge of his nose, there’s no trace of blood. His hair’s wet, drops falling from the ends, like he rushed to find me.
He’s showered. Changed.
I must’ve been out of it longer than I realized, time losing all meaning while I fought to hold on to consciousness.
The cool strands of his hair slip between my fingers as I rake them back soothingly.
Maverick leans into my touch, a soft hum vibrating in his chest.
I know I should explain, he deserves to know what he just witnessed.
But the words catch in my throat.
If he knew, he’d worry every time he got on a bull. His attention would split.
And the most dangerous thing a bull rider can be… is distracted.
I don’t want to be the reason Maverick gets hurt.
I’ve stayed away so long.
Worked so hard.
Was I naive to think I could come back here? To think I had control over this?
First injury… and I’m already a blubbering mess.
I rest my head against his chest, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe me.
I know it’s not fair to keep this to myself.
I know I should have told them years ago.
Even knowing that, I still don’t want to.
“I can feel your thoughts spinning,” Maverick murmurs, rubbing circles into my back.
He falls silent, letting me rest while he works through his own thoughts.
Then, always giving me exactly what I need, he says, “You don’t need to explain. I don’t need that from you.”
My grip tightens on his shirt, then loosens as his words settle into me.
One day, I’ll tell him.
Tell them both.
But for now, I’m okay.
I don’t know how I survived without Maverick’s steady, unshakable support.
Even as a kid, he was my anchor.
He still is.
My neck stiffens.
Oh.
He definitely knows.
Someone who understands me this well couldn’t not know.
And his willingness to let it go, to not dig, has my heart aching.
As my head clears, mortification creeps in, heating my cheeks.
I know he’d never make fun of me… but that doesn’t stop the embarrassment from flooding in.
Oh my God.
He kissed me.
I jerk away, ready to flee, but his arms band tighter around me, keeping me in place.
That was the only way he could snap me out of it.
What if he hated it?
If I thought I was embarrassed before, it’s nothing compared to now.
His thumb runs over my bottom lip, freeing it from my teeth.
“There you go again, thinking too much.”
“I didn’t… you didn’t have to. Thank you.”
The words tumble out in a messy contradiction.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry you had to do that?—”
He cuts me off, his tongue slipping past my still-open mouth, sending a full-body shiver through me.
His kiss is soft at first, exploratory, his tongue brushing over every inch like he wants to memorize me.
I’m slow to respond, brain still struggling to catch up, but when I do, it’s all-consuming.
My tongue tangles with his.
A low groan rumbles out of him, vibrating into my side.
I whimper when he pulls back, breath panting against my lips.
I move to chase him, but he brushes his nose along mine instead, smiling.
“I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” he says, voice rough. “I’ve pictured it a million times. What you’d taste like. How you’d respond. If you’d make those soft little sounds.”
Tingles race over my skin, heat pooling low in my belly.
“I… I shouldn’t have kissed you without asking. That’s not how I wanted this to happen… I just couldn’t think of a different way,” he says, so vulnerable my chest aches.
I grab the sides of his face and yank him down hard enough for our teeth to clash.
This time, my kiss isn’t soft.
It’s fast. Messy. Overflowing with everything inside me.
He answers with a low growl, wrapping his hand in my hair and tilting my head to the side for more access.
It’s hunger.
It’s need.
It’s everything we’ve been bottling up for years.
Eventually, our movements slow, turning soft, tender, almost reverent.
Maverick eases me down, his hands gentle as he touches me like I might shatter.
I let him.
I trust him.
Fourteen-year-old Callie would be losing her mind right now.
Giddiness bubbles up my throat, escaping in a giggle.
Maverick beams at me a real smile, full of wonder and possibility.
The kind of smile I’d do anything to keep there.
Noise filters through the door.
“We should probably head out. Colt’ll be looking for you.”
Colt.
My heart stutters.
How would Maverick feel if he knew I wanted to kiss Colt just as badly?
That I’ve always been greedy and want them both?
He holds my chin lightly and says, “He and I may not like each other, but you’ll always come first. We want you to be happy.”
“Freaking mind reader,” I mutter under my breath, internally freaking out.
“You shouldn’t make yourself so easy to read,” he teases, pressing a kiss to my temple.
Then he twines our fingers together and leads us out.
This man found me at my darkest.
Lit my way out.
And somehow made me as happy as I’ve ever been.
Everything about this moment is perfect.
I want to freeze it in time, hold it tight forever.
An ache twists in my chest.
I know it’s temporary.
But I push that thought away, refusing to taint this memory.
One day…
It will be all I have left.