27. Cale
cale
“You don’t need to go back if you’re not ready,” Melanie says quietly, watching Rosie gather the last of her and Nell’s things. Oakley and Nell are already outside, waiting for us by my truck. “You could stay for dinner.”
Rosie shakes her head with a soft smile. “You’ve done so much for us, Mel. I can’t ever repay that.”
“I don’t want you to repay it,” she replies crossly, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s what friends do.”
Rosie finishes zipping up Nell’s backpack, giving Melanie a soft smile. “Nell wants to go to school tomorrow and have everything just be…normal. You know? That’s something I can do for her—make her feel like her world is still safe.”
“What about you?” Melanie’s voice cracks. Rosie pulls her into a tight hug before I can step forward, the two of them squeezing each other.
“My world stopped feeling safe a long time ago,” I hear Rosie murmur. “Mom came home early, and she’s waiting on us. We’re going to sleep at her place tonight, which Nell is super excited about.”
“I’ve called Garth, and he’ll be by about ten tomorrow to help sort out the windows and graffiti.” Rosie shoots me a grateful look. “I also spoke with Levi earlier. I told him I’d ask if I could pass along your number, so that he and Ryan can start making amends.”
“Thank you, Cale.” Her eyebrows knit together as she pulls back from Melanie, her tone cautious. “That should be fine. Right? I mean, you know him.”
I dip my chin. “I’ve worked with him at Onyx for several years now.
He’s been through some shit himself, but he’s a good guy.
” I don’t let my phone call with him earlier reflect in my voice.
I can’t imagine what Levi is going through, learning what his son had been doing without him realizing, so I’m willing to give him some slack—a minuscule amount.
She blows out a breath, looking relieved. “Okay, then.”
“We ready to hit the road?” I palm my keys, looking between the women before telling Melanie, “I’ll be back soon.”
She still doesn’t look sure, chewing on her bottom lip. “You’ll call,” she orders Rosie, “if you need anything or if you change your mind. I don’t care if it’s two in the morning or what.”
Rosie grins. “I’ll call. Now stop worrying about me.”
“That’s impossible.” She gives her friend one last bone-crushing hug. When Melanie finally lets go, she looks at me, her blue eyes a little too bright. “Dinner will be ready in thirty minutes. It’s spaghetti, so don’t be late.”
I grab her arm, pulling her into me and planting a hard kiss on her lips. “Wouldn’t dream of it, darlin’.”
I get back just as Melanie’s plating up dinner, Oakley already at the table with a tablet—probably researching more exotic animals and interesting ways they can kill someone.
I move to Melanie’s side, taking the plates from her, asking under my breath, “Is Killer okay?”
She turns to take in her son’s subdued expression as he stares down at the screen, but shakes her head, murmuring, “I don’t know. He’s been quiet since you left.” We take everything over to the table, and she tells him, “Tablet away, bug.”
He does it without argument, back thirty seconds later, and pulls his plate closer toward him, his mouth turned down as he twirls spaghetti around his fork.
After a couple of minutes, Melanie asks, “Everything okay with dinner, kiddo?” She leans over to him, nudging his elbow with hers. “I thought a day like today called for your favorite.”
“It’s good,” he says, not looking up. Melanie glances at me, her eyes dark with concern. I reach out to grab her hand, squeezing reassuringly.
“Hope you don’t mind me intruding,” I say to Oakley. “It was just about the only thing that was going to make me feel better after losing so much at Mario Kart earlier.”
His stormy eyes lift to mine, a reluctant smile curving his mouth.
“I don’t mind,” he says quietly, sincerity ringing through all the same. “You can have dinner with us all the time.”
My eyebrows lift. “That’s a big invitation, Killer, and one I’m likely to accept. You sure about that?”
He stares at me before his eyes shift to Melanie. “I know you two like each other.” His tone implies that he doesn’t think much of our intelligence. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.”
“What do you mean?” Melanie asks curiously.
“Cale doesn’t have to creep out in the morning this time,” Oakley announces, right before he shoves a mouthful of spaghetti into his mouth.
Heat prickles the back of my neck, even as I give a helpless laugh. “I did not creep anywhere. I just happened to leave before you woke up.”
He watches me with guileless eyes. “That’s good. I was thinking we could play laser tag someday soon, but it wouldn’t be any fun for someone who was that bad at being sneaky.”
Melanie does a shit job at muffling her snort, her eyes wide and filled with laughter, before she ducks her head, pretending to be interested in her food.
I shake my head, my tone aggrieved, “I can already see how this is going to go for me.”
Oakley grins, and I know I’d take whatever he dealt out to me to keep that expression on his face. “I’m glad you guys are friends.” He points his fork in my direction. “But you can’t mess up again. I’m not helping you next time.”
Highly offended, I sniff. “Didn’t need your help this time.”
Oakley levels a look at me that screams, yeah right. He turns to his mother, announcing, “I’ve been thinking…”
“Oh, dear.” She chuckles when he glares at her. “What’s up, bug?”
He doesn’t answer straight away, a thoughtful expression on his face. “I don’t want to go to Dad’s house anymore.”
She nods, the lack of surprise telling. “Okay. Any particular reason why?”
He’s staring down at his food like the answer might be lying underneath his pasta. “Do you remember when you told me why the girls at school were being mean to Nell?”
“Yes,” she says slowly. “We talked about how they might be listening to conversations they shouldn’t be, and bringing that to school.”
He nods. “I know it was Ryan.”
I frown. “You know Ryan, Killer?”
He slouches down in his seat, his mouth tugging down into the most severe frown I’ve seen from him. “Yeah. He’s been at Dad and Marcy’s house before. I never realized—”
Melanie and I can both see where this is going. She lets out a low sound of pain, her fork clattering against her plate. I reach across the table, slapping my hand gently against the wood near Oakley, catching his attention.
When his eyes are on mine, I tell him firmly, “This isn’t on you.”
“But—”
I cut him off with a shake of my head. “None of this is on you. Ryan might have heard some things at your dad’s house. So did you, I’m guessing.” He shoots a guilty look at his mom before nodding. “Did you think of hurting anyone over what you heard?”
There’s a long pause before he whispers, “No, but I threw that rock into your house.”
Regret swells in my chest, even as it combats with pride at how this kid, at only eight years old, is willing to take accountability for his choices. “I know you did. We all make choices we aren’t proud of, and we make mistakes. It’s how we learn from them that counts.”
“I didn’t know Ryan was the one breaking into people’s houses.
” Oakley’s eyes flick between Melanie and me.
“I didn’t know he broke into our house. I promise.
I know that the last time I was there, Clarissa was talking to Ryan about Nell.
She said Nell was being mean to her, and I didn’t say anything because I figured it was something she was just saying.
I didn’t think he would try to hurt Nell and Rosie. ”
Tears spill out of his eyes and down his cheeks, crumbling under the weight of having held onto this all day.
Melanie rushes around the table and drops to a crouch beside him, gathering him into her arms. He grumbles out a half-hearted protest, but his arms loop tightly around her neck, his shoulders shaking as the emotions pour out of him.
“This is not your fault,” she says fiercely. “And if you don’t want to go back there, you don’t go back. Not ever.”
“I should’ve told you,” he says in her shoulder, voice trembling. “I didn’t mind going to Dad’s, because it meant he left you alone. It wasn’t that bad.”
“That’s a big load to carry by yourself, Killer,” I say quietly. “I think your mom would rather you were happy than going to stay somewhere that ‘wasn’t that bad’.”
He turns to look at me, his cheek squished into Melanie’s shoulder, looking younger than he is. “I guess.”
“It’s true,” she tells him. “Would you want me doing anything that made me unhappy?” He shakes his head mutely. “Even if it meant you were happy?”
Oakley shakes his head, his eyes still on me. “No,” he whispers. “We should all be happy.” His lip trembles, his eyes falling closed. “I should’ve told you,” he echoes.
“You’re telling me now,” she says back. “And that’s all that matters.”
A couple of hours later, I’m sitting on the couch, scrolling through my phone. Melanie’s been in with Oakley for over forty minutes, and I’m debating whether I should go back to my place or not when she appears.
“Hey, darlin’,” I rasp. “He asleep?”
Melanie’s expression is contemplative as she approaches me, not stopping until her toes brush against mine. I automatically spread my knees, making room for her to step closer. I reach out, trailing my hand over her thighs, the denim coarse against my fingertips.
“Mel?”
“He’s asleep,” she confirms, her voice low. “It took a while, but that’s not surprising with the weight he was carrying.” There’s a faint thread of guilt in her voice.
“You couldn’t know,” I tell her, sliding a hand up over her hip. “It’s not your weight to carry either.” I replay everything that Oakley said at dinner, renewed fury filling me as I think about his father and that woman.
Melanie catches one of my hands in hers, tangling our fingers together. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. Not the break-in or those kids, and not him.”
One brow lifts. “What do you want to think about then, darlin’?”