Chapter Ten
Joel and Damian had searched as long as they could, but as the storm passed over them, it became too dangerous.
They were forced to take shelter back at the restaurant to wait it out.
Then Damian’s phone buzzed. It was a message from Ryan saying he had found Callie and sending their location.
The message was almost twenty minutes old, the cell signal was too weak to deliver it timely.
The wind finally calmed. Even though the rain continued, it was safe to go out on the street and continue the search.
“There!” Joel yelled, pointing to a store across the street from them.
Damian’s heart sank when he saw what Joel was pointing at. A barrel blocked the doorway where Ryan had said they were sheltering. They ran over quickly, and it took both of them to move it. Although it had hit the building, it had also clearly hit Ryan and Callie.
“Give me light!” Damian yelled at Joel as he knelt next to them.
Callie sat up when she heard Damian yell.
“Ryan!” she screamed when she saw him lying next to her, motionless. “Damian, is he alive?”
Damian tried to focus. Amid the noise, rain, and cold, it was hard to conduct an assessment, and he worried about moving Ryan without knowing the exact nature of the injuries. He held his breath as he checked for a pulse, and a moment later he found one.
“He’s alive,” Damian confirmed. Callie sat back, watching him closely. “Come on, buddy,” he muttered under his breath.
From what he could tell, Ryan was likely hit in the back and head, though he did not know how hard. Ryan started to stir, and Damian leaned over him, trying to keep him still.
“Don’t move,” Damian insisted.
“Callie?” Ryan said in a panic, searching for her, ignoring Damian.
“I’m here,” Callie said, taking his hand.
“But don’t move,” Damian repeated.
“I’m fine,” Ryan objected.
Damian knew he wasn’t. He had been knocked out cold. Ryan got up slowly and stumbled and Damian quickly supported him. As Callie stood and took a step, she cried out in pain, and Joel went to her.
“Something's wrong with my ankle,” she said as he supported her.
“Let’s get them back to Martha’s house,” Joel told Damian.
Damian kept helping Ryan, who winced with every step but insisted he was fine. Callie tried to walk, but after a few more painful steps, Joel lifted her into his arms. When they returned to the house, Martha was shocked by their condition.
“You need to get these wet things off!” she ordered. “I’ll start a fire so we can hang them to dry.”
Damian wanted to protest, saying he needed to check Callie’s ankle and head, but Joel was already doing so.
Martha led Ryan and Damian to the laundry room, handed them towels, and repeated her instructions.
As Ryan pulled off his shirt, he gasped in pain, and Damian immediately saw why.
Ryan’s right side was badly bruised, indicating broken ribs and possibly something more serious.
“Fuck, Ryan, that looks bad,” Damian said, staring at him.
“I’m fine,” Ryan repeated.
“You really aren’t,” Damian argued. “Hold still.”
He gently laid a hand on Ryan’s side and began tracing his fingers along Ryan’s bruised ribs, checking for breaks. Ryan sucked in a breath, which Damian interpreted as pain.
“Sorry,” he said, pulling his hand away. “You likely have several fractures, but I don’t feel any major breaks.”
“See, I told you, I’m fine,” Ryan concluded.
“You think so? Just wait until you sneeze,” Damian shot back.
They suddenly became aware that they were standing in the room, both half-naked.
Ryan froze, feeling that familiar insecurity.
He knew Damian was still mad at him; he had hurt Damian and pushed him away.
If it weren’t for their shared concern for Callie, Damian likely would have just told Ryan to go to hell when Ryan showed up at his door.
Damian tied a towel around his waist, pulled off the rest of his clothing, and left to give Ryan privacy.
Damian found Callie alone in the living room, lying on the sofa with an ice pack on her ankle. The fire was burning in the fireplace, warming the house. She had changed into a giant wool sweater. Damian raised his eyebrows when he saw her.
“Martha said I needed to warm up,” Callie explained. “Apparently, it’s the warmest sweater she owns.”
“I believe it,” Damian grinned, trying not to laugh. “Did they even bother to separate the wool from the sheep when they made that? Or are they in there with you, too?” Callie laughed. “Let me take a look at you,” he said, taking a seat beside her on the sofa.
He first looked at her head. Joel had done a good job patching it with stitch tape. He assessed her for a concussion and figured it was minor, if there was one. Then he moved to her ankle. It was already wrapped in a tensor bandage.
“Joel thinks it’s only a sprain,” Callie said.
“I think he’s right,” Damian replied. “Where is he?”
“He went home. He needed to change,” Callie confirmed.
“Is he coming back?”
“I told him he didn’t need to,” Callie answered. “How did you find me?”
“You showed me the picture,” Damian replied.
“The picture?” she repeated. “That was months ago! You remembered?” Damian shrugged and smiled sadly at her. “You never replied to me. I know I hurt you, too. I’m so sorry.”
“Callie, it’s not your fault,” Damian replied.
For a moment, Callie relaxed and smiled at him.
Damian was about to tell her how sorry he was and that he still cared for her, but Ryan joined them, wearing only a towel and carrying several blankets.
Ryan tossed a couple of blankets to Damian, wrapped one around himself, and sat in a recliner across from Callie.
“Martha apologizes for not having any men’s clothing here,” Ryan explained. “She encourages us to use the blankets.”
Damian frowned but wrapped the blanket around himself.
They didn’t want to offend their host, who had been so kind.
An awkward silence filled the room as they realized they had never finished their conversation.
But the events of the evening had changed things.
When Ryan found Callie hurt, he was terrified.
All the emotions he had locked away came flooding back, and now all he wanted was for her to return home with him.
But he suddenly didn’t know how to say it.
Seeing Damian and Callie sitting in front of him, he wished he could tell them both exactly how he felt.
But admitting his feelings was never his strength.
“I should go to bed. You guys can sleep on the sofas and leave in the morning,” Callie said, trying to get up, but she couldn’t put any weight on her ankle.
“Won’t one of you help me?” she scolded them.
“He can’t,” Damian said. “And I won’t.”
“Why can’t Ryan help me?” Callie demanded.
“His ribs are broken,” Damian explained.
“And why won’t you help me?” Callie persisted.
“As long as I don’t, you can’t run away from us again,” Damian replied.
Ryan laughed, which was quickly followed by a curse as pain stabbed through his broken ribs.
Damian gave him a pointed, I-told-you-so look.
Callie glared at both of them and sat back down on the sofa, defeated.
Ryan was suddenly grateful for Damian. Even if Ryan didn’t know what to say, Damian seemed ready to force the conversation.
“Fine,” she said. “But I’m still going to sleep.”
She grabbed a blanket, pulled it over her, laid down, and turned her back to them.
“No, you don’t,” Damian said. “We’re going to talk this through.”
He lifted her into his arms, carrying her off the sofa and setting her on the floor. She had her back against the sofa, and Damian leaned over her to block any escape.
“I’ll scream,” Callie threatened.
“No, you won’t,” Damian smirked. “You don’t want to wake poor Martha, or you’d have screamed already.”
Callie was trapped. They might have forced her to stay, but they couldn’t force her to talk.
She sat quietly, waiting for one of them to speak.
But as she stared at both of them, her emotions overwhelmed her, and she longed to be close to them.
Damian was still leaning over her. In the past, he had been able to ignite her with just one touch.
She thought he was still fully capable of that as she felt his body so close.
It felt like the most natural thing to kiss him.
He was looking deeply into her eyes, and for a moment she thought he would kiss her.
Then she glanced at Ryan, and he was looking at her longingly.
All she wanted was to go to him and have him hold her.
But the night with Marco continued to haunt her, and she knew that as long as it remained in her mind, she could never forgive herself.
When she looked back at Damian, his expression had changed, and he slowly moved away.
“I’ll give you guys some privacy,” Damian said, getting up and heading to the other room.
Ryan was confused by Damian's concession to give them privacy. Damian had feelings for Callie that ran just as deep as Ryan’s. For some reason, Damian was allowing Ryan a chance to repair things with Callie without interfering.
“Callie, come home with me,” Ryan said, taking a seat on the floor next to her once they were alone. “Please.”
Callie shook her head no but didn’t speak. With him so close, it was even harder to suppress her feelings. When she stayed silent, Ryan continued.
“I won’t push you,” he promised. “Come back, and I’ll stay away. Move back into your apartment. Take the job with Edward if that’s what you need. But please give us a chance to work this out.”
Callie continued to shake her head no, tears welling in her eyes. Ryan held her gaze, silently pleading with her. He took her hand, and she didn’t pull away. The warmth of his hand gave her a familiar comfort she had both missed and longed for.
“Why?” Callie asked. “Why even try? All we ever do is hurt each other.”
“No, that’s not true," he said softly, with a gentle touch on her neck. “You know that’s not true."