Chapter Four #3
“In that case.” He points to the door. “You’d better get out of my office. I’ve seen her in action, and even I know better than to get on Callie’s bad side.”
“Definitely not a side I want to be on. See you soon, Chief.”
“Would you get in?” I grumble.
This woman is impossible.
After finding Tris with Ellie outside the firehouse, despite not being able to stand her, I figured I’d be a decent human and act like some type of gentleman, but no.
It’s getting dark, and she’s refusing to let me take her home.
I drive the truck beside her as she walks, the gravel on the road crunching under the pressure of the tires while people beep their horns, and I motion for them to go around.
I should drive away, leave her, but I know that I’d never forgive myself if she got hurt and I could have prevented it.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, brows knotting together while a spike of panic shoots through me like someone flipped the wrong damn switch.
Shit, not right now.
Breathe in... One. Two. Three.
In my head, I hear the sirens, my pleas to help her echoing, the machines surrounding my hospital bed beeping. I hear her name as I call it, begging for an answer. Begging for her.
Breath out... One. Two. Three.
“Not a chance.”
Her voice pulls me back to the present. Beside me, Ellie whines as she nuzzles her nose into my arm, sensing the panic attack as it subsides.
“So, unless you plan to throw me over your shoulder, tough luck,” she snarks back without even glancing my way.
“Stubborn thorn in my side, that’s what this woman is. I’d rather throw her over my knee,” I mumble under my breath for only Ellie’s ears. “And risk having you claw my eyes out? No thanks,” I call out, this time loud enough so she hears me.
“Great. Then that just leaves goodbye,” she claps back, continuing on her merry little way.
If she thought that was going to deter me, she’s dead wrong.
I’m not pursuing her, I don’t even like her, but at this point, her safety and my ego are both at the wheel.
She’s probably scared off half the nice, simple folks in this town, but she doesn’t know me.
I’ve pissed off bigger, meaner people without losing sleep.
A breeze wafts through my open window, and I shake my head, feeling smug as she pulls at the zipper of her coat up higher.
As the cars continue to honk, I continue to wave them past. I couldn’t care less.
I’ll play traffic cop all damn night if that’s what it takes to make sure she gets home in one piece.
She’s trying so hard to act like she doesn’t care, but I catch the way the tips of her ears keep turning redder with every step she takes. It gives me a jolt of satisfaction I’m not proud of, but not ashamed of either.
Her phone rings, and she snatches it up, as if any distraction from my presence is a welcome one. But the second her steps falter, and the color drains from her face, I instantly know. This isn’t the distraction she was hoping for.
I can just barely hear a man’s voice on the other side of the line, but it’s not loud enough to hear what he’s saying.
Tris, however, looks like a pissed-off deer in headlights.
If that were the case, given the look that begins to transform on her face from startled to pissed, my money would be on the deer.
If I thought the looks she’s been giving me are bad, the pure look of hatred that she’s giving the sidewalk in front of where she’s stopped is enough to freeze hell over several times.
As she ignores whoever is on the other side of the phone, I fight a tug that pulls at me to get out of the truck and rip the phone from her hands.
To tell whoever it is to lose the number, or else the next time they call, they’ll be dealing with me.
My grip tightens on the steering wheel, and my jaw clenches.
I throw the truck in park, but I check myself when my hand reaches for the door.
What am I doing, and why the hell do I give a damn?
Guilt rocks into me, as if the idea of feeling protective over another woman is validation enough to pour gasoline over me and strike a match.
My arm burns all over again in my mind, like I can feel the licks of the flames as they seared their way through.
The phantom pains remind me once more that it should have been me.
I don’t deserve to be the one here. My breathing goes thin and rapid, tightening my chest until Ellie’s bark releases both Tris and me from our trance of silence.
Her head turns, and her eyes meet mine. Pure ice. “I have nothing to say to you.”
At first, I think she’s speaking to me, but then she taps her screen and shoves the phone back into her pocket. Her icy blue eyes lift, her gaze locking on mine through guarded eyes. It’s obvious I wasn’t meant to be here for that, whatever that was, but now it’s too late.
She crosses her arms like they’re armor, able to protect her, and she straightens her shoulders.
From livid to composed, so fast that if I wasn’t watching, if I wasn’t completely tuned in to the storm that’s standing before me, I would have missed it.
She looks up, rolling her eyes, before she glides around the front of the truck and plants herself in the passenger seat with a huff.
She doesn’t say a word, so neither do I.
We sit here for a minute in total silence.
Not even Ellie, who’s retreated to the backseat, makes a sound or moves.
I’m parked in the middle of Turtle Bay’s main road.
Passerby’s lights are blinking, cars are honking, and yet none of it matters to either of us.
The air is filled with a tension so thick that it has my whole body on high alert.
My jaw is clenched so tight that it begins to hurt.
Finally, she exhales through her nose, slow, controlled, but not calm.
“Just drive.”
I don’t ask where. I shift back into drive and go.
It’s dark now, and having her here with me in the truck is the best course of action.
It’s just a ride because walking home wouldn’t have been safe.
At least that’s what I tell myself. Eventually, we pull up in front of the Cozy Pines Cafe, and she tells me to pull over.
The ivy on the outside is lit by the surrounding street lamps and twinkling string lights inside. A nice touch by Callie, I’m sure.
“You live here, too?” I ask, sarcastically, before I can help myself.
“You don’t need to know where I live.” She hops down from the truck, no thank you or warmth in sight.
I think she’s going to slam the door too, and that’ll be it, but she turns around, her face softening.
Not for me. For Ellie. “One more for the road, Little Miss Ellie.” She pulls out another biscuit, and Ellie’s tail wags as she scarfs it down. “You can go now. This is close enough.”
I’m so hung up on the nickname, Little Miss Ellie, that I don’t even respond.
It’s what Krystal always called her. Anger burns through me.
Heat floods up the back of my neck and pushes down the pain that’s rattling in my chest. I’m unable to look at her.
I refuse. She closes the door and disappears without another word.
Whatever this is, I want nothing to do with it.
I hate her, and trying to help her was a mistake.
One I won’t make again.