Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Rose
The silence stretches, and I can’t bring myself to look at Cal again—not without the risk of saying something I’ll regret.
The past hour has been a whirlwind of emotions. Mostly embarrassment, if I’m honest—after the way I practically threw myself at him in that hotel room. And he was right. I was desperate to feel something other than fear and find comfort in anything that wasn’t chaos.
In that moment, everything changed.
Then I saw my mom’s things, and it hit me harder than I could’ve ever prepared for. A wave of emotion crashed over me, sharp and unexpected. I tried to keep it together, to swallow it down and mask the ache building behind my ribs.
The need to always appear strong is something I have to let go.
Smelling her on that scarf and touching her things made all of this feel so real.
But it wasn’t only that. Not for me.
Being around Cal today reminded me how much I still want this. Us.
And yes, I’ve given him attitude and sass, but it was all a way to keep him at arm’s length.
Because honestly, I didn’t think he wanted me.
But then it was the little things I noticed.
First, in his office, picking up on my nerves.
The jealousy of seeing Niko with me. His determination to find my mom.
His confession that he almost reached out when he got my mom’s case.
I’ve seen the fleeting moments of concern that flash across his face when he looks at me.
And let’s not forget the way he guides me with his hand on my back.
All of it was showing me a very different version of Cal than the one I concocted in my head.
Then came my mom’s room and his confession. It’s been replaying in my head ever since.
Because trust me, I want to get distracted. I almost fainted.
We hit pause, sure, but that look—the same one from that night at the bar—was still there. The kind that says everything words can’t.
I wanted to reach for him, to stop him from running again.
And maybe, when all of this insanity finally ends, we’ll get that chance. A real one this time.
And despite everything that’s happened ... all the danger and doubt, part of me still believes that he’s worth the risk.
All of these thoughts cause something inside of me to stutter when my phone buzzes in my back pocket, cutting through the silence.
I jump at the sharp and sudden noise as Cal looks away, shoving his hands into his pockets.
I pull my phone out of my jeans and glance at the screen, startled. “It’s her.”
Maggie.
Cal’s head snaps up. “Put it on speaker,” he barks quick and firm. “Don’t answer on video. And don’t tell her you’re at the hotel or that I’m here.”
I frown. “I … I don’t understand. Why?”
“Do it, Sheridan.” His tone leaves no room for argument.
“Geez, I see grumpy cop is back,” I mutter under my breath. And why do I like the grumpy version of Cal so much?
“Trust me. This isn’t grumpy.”
“You mean he gets grumpier?” The phone continues to ring.
Cal presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose, the muscle in his jaw ticking, clearly irritated. “For God’s sake, just answer the phone.” He looks at me again, the irritation softening. “Please.”
A crack of thunder erupts outside, adding to the mood in the room.
“Fine.” I draw myself upright, trying to steady my anxious body. Holding the phone out, I swipe and hit speaker. “Maggie?”
“Rose.” Maggie’s answer is tight and full of urgency. “Finally. I’ve been trying to call you. So do you have an update?”
Cal gives nothing away, only folds his arms while squinting at the phone screen.
“You called me in the last hour? My phone didn’t ring.”
“I did! Maybe it’s the whole international call thing.” I flinch at her shrill, high-pitched reply. “I’m freaking out over here. Stuck in stupid Italy. Please say you have something.”
Cal stands motionless, concentrating on me and Maggie, his face like stone.
“I don’t have much to tell,” I reply carefully.
“We’re … still looking.” I cringe at how easily the lie slipped out.
Cal nods. I guess that was the right thing to say.
I pick my nails because I don’t enjoy withholding information from Maggie. This is fresh territory for us.
She exhales, sharp and frustrated. “That’s not good enough. Are they doing their jobs? We have to find Aunt Diane!”
Cal’s eyes narrow, not liking Maggie’s accusation. “Of course they are. It’s not that simple.”
“Of course it’s not simple, but keeping me in the dark like this isn’t cool.”
“I’m not intentionally keeping you in the dark, Maggie. There’s nothing to tell. When I know something, you will be the first person I call, I promise.”
There’s a pause, then her next question hardens. “Is Cal with you?”
This catches me off guard, and I hesitate, unsure how to answer. He stays still, but the tightness in his jaw gives him away. Then he gives a small nod. Silent permission to tell her the truth.
“Yes,” I reply. “I’m still working with him.”
“I see.” Another harsh inhale through the line, then: “Did anything we talked about earlier sink in? You can’t trust him, Rose. You can’t. God, you’re so stupid.”
I stop breathing. She called me stupid. I’m frozen, caught between disbelief and the urge to defend myself. Cal’s focus, though, is solely on me.
He’s waiting. Waiting to see if the doubts that Maggie tried to plant in me earlier took root.
They didn’t.
We lock eyes, and in them I find the strength to answer her.
“Maggie, don’t call me stupid. I heard you earlier.
I did. But Cal has been nothing but kind, helpful, and honest with me since this started.
I have every reason to trust him. He explained his reasons for withholding information from me, and I believe him. ”
He tries to hide it by turning his head away, but his lips upturn into the slightest smile.
She huffs in disgust. “And you actually believe him? Or is this something more? Admit it. You’re happy to be around him again, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I do believe him.” I grin. “And I trust him, Maggie. One hundred percent.” Cal’s face softens. “And yes, I do like being around him again.” His smile stretches from ear to ear. I haven’t seen that megawatt smile since that night in the bar.
“I honestly thought you were smarter than that, Rose.”
The line goes dead.
I lower the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen.
Cal’s next words fill the empty air and slice through the shock coursing through me. “What was that all about?”
I mull over his question, doing my best not to let the sting show. “That’s just Maggie,” I murmur. “She doesn’t like being left out.” Sliding my phone into my pocket, I add softly, “But she’s never hung up on me before.” My throat tightens. “Or called me stupid.”
He studies me, arms still crossed, his expression flat. “Sheridan, that wasn’t her being pushy or wanting to be in the know. There was more behind it.” Now, it’s his turn to pause. “And you’re not stupid. In fact, I think you’re brilliant.”
I let the compliment sink in, loving and real. “Thank you.”
“Talk to me. Why did she react like that?”
The words catch, but I force them out. “I honestly don’t know. That didn’t sound like her. At all.” A sudden sadness fills me.
Something shifts in Cal as empathy flashes on his face. “We can hurt the people we care about the most, sometimes.”
He says this like he’s speaking from experience. We lock eyes, and he gives me a tight smile. As though he is admitting something he’s too afraid to say out loud.
That’s what he did. He pushed me away. And he regrets it.
I glance away and continue. “That conversation. That wasn’t Maggie.
Something is wrong. She’s the carefree one.
Always happy. The effervescent, quintessential party girl that people gravitate to and want to be around.
She exudes such fun energy that it’s hard not to want to be in her orbit.
” A soft quiver leaves my lips at the description of the woman I love like a sister.
“Well, when people deal with trauma, they overcompensate this way. It comes out in their personalities. And your mom being missing is traumatic for both of you. But just because you are handling it so well, doesn’t mean she is.
She’s halfway around the world, probably feeling helpless.
That can be a lot to deal with,” Cal reasons.
“You’re probably right.” I ponder his words. I’m sure she feels helpless and alone. That’s all this is. She’s lashing out. When we talk again, she’ll apologize.
He nods, and I have to admit, his being here with me is helping. “You think I’m handling this well?”
Cal comes around the steel table. He’s standing next to me now, resting against the metal, staring at me.
“As well as you can be.” My breath hitches slightly.
“You feel lost, helpless and full of fear. You are the type of person who needs things to make sense. And none of this makes sense or is easy to explain. Which is tearing you up inside.”
I don’t know how, but this man sees me. And I think he always has. “How do you know what I’m feeling?”
He exhales, studying the scuffed tips of his boots while he crosses his ankles and thinks. When he finally lifts his head, the air shifts. His gaze pins me, steady and unflinching. Then his words split me open. “Because I like being in your orbit, Sheridan.”
I’m stunned into silence. Nope, no words are formed after that confession.
He pauses, then saunters around the table again, like he’s fighting his own thoughts. And quickly changes the subject. “Tell me about her childhood. What you know of it.” He heaves the tote back up and onto the shelf it was on prior.
I pick at my nails to do something with my hands.
“Um, Maggie grew up poor. Her dad couldn’t hold down a steady job, and her mom didn’t work.
I’m not sure why.” Memories begin to flood back into my mind.
“My mom would offer to help them, financially I mean. And they would always refuse. Mom and Uncle Pete had a complicated relationship. I think there was always some resentment there.”
His eyebrows pinch together. “How do you mean?”
“With money. My mom does well at her job. And my dad’s family was well off, so when my dad passed away from cancer when I was only eight he left everything to her.
I think my uncle always hated that. He was the type of guy that felt like”—I lift my fingers and air quote—“‘I don’t have money, so no one should.’”
“That had to be stressful.” He wipes his thumb over his lip, taking this in. “Do you think that leaving her home and losing her parents might have caused some resentment? Towards you and your mom? Kinda like, 'you have your mom but I don’t.'”
I know Cal means well, but this is out of the realm of possibility for Maggie and me.
We are joined at the hip. A dull ache forms with nowhere to go.
“No. Absolutely not,” I hiss while clutching the scarf then wrapping it roughly around my waist. “She lost her entire world that night, Cal. And my mom, our home—it became hers, too. We’ve been inseparable ever since. ”
He studies me. “So how close are you, really?” he asks, treading lightly.
Surprise flares at his question, making me feel defiant. “Close enough that she knows what I’m thinking before I say it. Close enough that when she’s scared, I know it. And right now? She’s terrified. That’s all this is. So if you’re implying something else … don’t.”
His jaw tightens, like my answer raises more questions than it settles.