Chapter Twenty-Seven
West
The bright flash of the camera barely registers. My sole focus is how my shoulder screams with every inch I move.
“Turn right.”
I wince and shift with the command, feeling like the biggest dumbass that ever walked the planet.
Blue’s probably thinking the same thing as she scrolls through pics on social media.
An officer took my phone, but I don’t need it to know footage of the fight is playing on everyone’s screens right now.
The camera flashes again, and my thoughts shift to my dad. His mugshot. I remember seeing it, thinking what a loser he was. Now, here I am, and I can’t believe I’m following in his footsteps.
Another flash, then we’re done.
“This way, please,” the officer says, and we move on to fingerprinting.
All eyes are on me as I’m led back through the station in damp clothes.
Every second of this has been humbling. Most of the cops are fans, but that’s not a flex.
Not under these circumstances. I want to fucking disappear, actually.
But it’s hard to blend in at six-four, two-hundred-thirty pounds, so I grit my teeth and bear it.
“Rough night, man?” one asks in passing.
My only response is a tight half-smile.
I hate this shit.
It’s a relief when I’m taken to a holding cell. I feel less like a spectacle, just a regular, run-of-the-mill dumbass again.
I lower to the bench, and my head falls back against the painted brick.
The fluorescent lights hum overhead, and time passes in slow motion, punctuated by the occasional laugh from down the hall, fragments of conversations as officers pass by.
In between, the sound of the clock ticking across from the cell drives me insane.
By the time someone returns, three hours have passed.
“Good news, Golden. Your bail’s being covered. Mr. Ruiz is here for you.”
I’m slow to my feet, because I know this isn’t the worst of it. There’s still the small task of facing my wife.
We stop at a counter, and I glance at the paperwork.
“Couple things,” the officer says. “There aren’t any charges being brought against you, but you’re not to have any contact with Mr. Groves. Understood?”
“Yes, sir,” I sigh.
He nods. “Good, then I just need you to initial here and here, then sign and date here.”
I add my name where he points. Then, my phone, keys, and wallet are slid to me from across the counter. As soon as my phone’s in my hand it vibrates almost constantly, which means I’m right about the story going viral, and my name officially being shit in this city.
I’m escorted to the lobby, and the second the automatic doors open, cool night air hits my skin.
“Have a good night,” the officer says. I nod but don’t say anything, because my heads all over the place as I wait underneath the awning.
Ricky pulls up a few seconds later, and I can’t believe I actually have mixed feelings about getting out of here so quickly. Another day or two and I might’ve stood a chance of Blue’s anger dying down, but no way she’s calm after just a few hours.
The interior light pops on when I open the passenger side door, and Ricky looks me over. Maybe looking for injuries. Maybe just wondering what the hell I was thinking.
That makes two of us.
“You good?” he asks, and I nod as I climb in and slam the door behind me.
“Thanks for bail. I’ll send it back to your account first thing in the morning. Well, later this morning,” I add after glancing down at the clock.
He waves me off. “I don’t care about that shit. You’ve got enough going on.”
My head falls back against the seat as I let myself feel it. The weight of what I’ve done. “Fuck my life.”
Ricky laughs quietly. “Yeah, well, just wait until you hear what your wife has to say about it.”
“You talked to her?”
“Briefly. Didn’t want her first hearing about what happened from Pandora, so I called.”
I’m scared to ask how pissed she is.
“She wanted to be here, but I told her I had it handled. Didn’t make sense for her to drive upset in the rain.”
I pull out my phone and bypass the hundred or more social media notifications to check her location. She’s still at the house. I should be excited about that, but considering the circumstance, I’m fucking terrified.
“So, what the hell did this asshole do?” Ricky asks. “Not like you to lose your shit.”
I imagine it, Seth touching my fucking wife, and I’m angry all over again.
“He kissed her,” I say under my breath, watching the city pass by outside my window.
In my peripheral vision, I see Ricky glance over at me, then he does a double-take. “The fuck?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Shit, I would’ve beat his ass, too. Maybe worse.”
When most people say things like that, I’d take it with a grain of salt. But given Ricky’s past, I know he’s not exaggerating.
“You’re sure you’re good, though? You hurt?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t hit me.”
That has him laughing, and I smirk a little too.
“Should’ve known. It’s in our blood,” he says with an elbow nudge, and I shake my head.
“Yeah, I guess.” My head falls against the headrest with a sigh.
“It’s been a long night. I’m taking you to grab your truck, so you can get home and rest.”
“Yeah. Rest,” I scoff. We both know Blue has other plans. Like ripping me a new asshole for how I fucked this up.
We drive in silence the next few miles, then turn onto Seth’s street. My truck’s still where I left it, and Seth’s house is completely dark except for one room. Which must mean he wasn’t hurt bad enough to go to the hospital.
That’s good news, I guess.
Ricky pulls up to the curb, and the headlights illuminate my license plate when he stops behind my truck.
“Thanks again.”
“No problem. And don’t be too hard on yourself. You did exactly what most of us would’ve done.”
I nod because I appreciate the support. But support won’t do shit when I cross the threshold and face the only person who actually scares me.
***
Blue’s still parked in front of the house, and I pull up behind her instead of parking in the garage.
My head and heart raced the entire drive over, because the fact that she didn’t leave and go back to Hunter’s is telling.
It means she wants to strike while the iron is hot, wants me to feel the full force of her rage.
I curse under my breath as I climb the front steps, twisting the knob of the unlocked door.
It’s mostly dark inside, but a dim light coming from the direction of the kitchen calls out to me like a beacon.
I lock up, then head that way, toward the smell of freshly brewed coffee where I’m likely to find a very angry blonde waiting at the table.
I turn the corner and see exactly that. Only, her face is red, and her eyes are puffy from crying. I can see that despite the only source of light being the soft glow from over the stove.
Shit, making her sad is the only thing worse than making her angry.
Why can’t I get this right? Why does every decision I make only fuck things up even further?
“Listen, Blue, I—”
“Don’t.”
That word cuts through the silence and has its intended effect. It shuts me up before I can even get the thought clear of my lips.
“I trusted you.”
She stands slowly, placing her mug down on the table.
“Blue—”
“No,” she snaps, still managing to keep her voice quiet. “You don’t get to interrupt until I’m done, West. I trusted you.”
She takes a step towards me, and my breath comes quicker.
“You told me you were trying. You told me you’re working on being better. You told me to come to you if he tried anything, and I fucking… trusted you!”
Her voice cracks and knowing her pain is my fault fucks me up inside.
“I did what you asked, I came to you with what happened, and your first thought was to go to his house and beat the living shit out of him?”
“I didn’t go over there to fight,” I explain. “But the shit he said to me? I couldn’t let it go. I tried to walk away, but…”
“So, someone talking shit gave you permission to put yourself on the line? Put us on the line? And if you hadn’t rushed out of here like a madman, if you’d listened to me when I pleaded with you to stay, none of this would’ve happened.”
Anger fills her expression and she shakes her head.
“I mean, did none of it cross your mind even for a second? Everything you have to lose? Your career? Your reputation? Your shoulder? Everything we’ve fought to build?”
She takes a few steps away, then comes back.
“And you seriously thought Seth Groves was worth throwing all that away?”
Silence. I can only stare at her. I knew she’d be pissed, but I don’t think I allowed myself to think of how hurt she’d be.
“The part that scared me the most wasn’t that you hit him or that the story is all over the internet. It’s that, when you get like this, I hardly know who you are. Hardly know what you’re capable of.”
That hits me square in my chest, and I let it live there because this is what I deserve. But as I wrestle with everything she’s laying at my feet, words tumble out before I’m actually ready to release them.
“He said you’ve been telling him things. About us,” I admit softly.
Her head snaps up. “What?”
“He said you told him things have been bad. Told him you’re miserable with me.”
Hearing those words again, even leaving my own mouth, cuts deep.
A quick, sharp laugh puffs from her lips. “You’ve known me since we were practically kids West. Do you honestly think I’d confide in him about us?”
I don’t answer, and her expression shifts from disbelieving to deepening hurt.
“Wow,” she says under her breath, crossing both arms over her chest. “Didn’t realize I’d ever have to defend myself on this but, for the record, I’ve never, and would never, confide in Seth or any other man about our marriage, West. Anything he claims to know about us is because Pandora’s made a whole fucking circus out of our lives. ”
She pauses to breathe, and I don’t blink watching her.
“I would never undermine what we’ve built by giving him access to us like that. Never.”
My stomach twists into a knot as that sinks in.