Page 37 of Clashing

Chapter twenty-eight

Fourth of July

Scarlett

I thought I was doing well. I thought my attraction to Ryker had faded. Until he backed me against that wall, close enough to kiss, to touch . . .

I wanted him as badly as before.

But of course, we fought. A small, fucked-up part of me liked fighting with him. It made me feel alive. It made us passionate. It made me believe we could get through anything because we weren’t afraid to be our worst selves.

This fight was different. At first, I was pissed at him for losing it like that, for closing off and getting angry instead of talking to me, but another emotion lurked beneath the armor of anger.

I’d hurt him. I’d hurt him and hadn’t considered the ways my actions affected him. He had such a stoic exterior. So rough around the edges. I sometimes forgot he had soft spots.

I shouldn’t. He’d shown me more than once.

Our first night together. When I was on my period.

When he went with me to sell my speaker.

When Dan fell. When I freaked out again.

When he encouraged me to get help. More than anyone, I should know he had soft spots.

I guess I didn’t think he had one for me.

He told me he had no feelings, yet that fight wasn’t all anger. He was hurt that I’d assumed the worst and didn’t let him explain. For that, remorse plagued my every waking thought.

I wanted to chase after him but my heart split. I was with Collin. Not officially, but I liked Collin. Had the timing been different, he would’ve been perfect for me.

Now I was confused. Although Ryker and I could barely have a conversation without fighting, he invigorated me. Challenged me. Knew me. Would the same thing happen with Collin if I let it? Maybe I’d feel as much for Collin as I did with Ryker if I gave it time.

I don’t believe that.

Ryker was different, and I didn’t want to string Collin around. He deserved better.

Fourth of July, I plastered on a fake smile and helped Dan get the grill ready, along with the refreshments spread—chips and dips, beer, veggie and fruit platters, a huge bowl of Dan’s famous macaroni and cheese, and corn on the cob.

The regulars showed up with some of Dan’s other friends.

All people I was comfortable around. People I could laugh with.

Laughing was the last thing I felt like doing. My mind kept returning to Ryker. Was it because of me he didn’t come, or did he really hate the holiday?

Music boomed over the fireworks exploding in the distance.

A few guys struggled with the sound thanks to PTSD, but the loud music and company kept them grounded.

I sat alone on the porch steps, watching them play horseshoes, throw tomahawks, eat, and laugh.

Normally, I’d love this, but guilt ate at my stomach.

For jumping to conclusions. For thinking about another man when a perfectly good one wanted me.

Dammit. No matter what I felt about Ryker, no matter how confusing, I owed him an apology.

I’d been unfair. He was being a dick too and I wouldn’t let him get away with that.

We had a habit of setting each other off instead of talking through things rationally.

Neither of us seemed to be good at calm but one of us had to be the adult.

I hated that he said we couldn’t be friends. I didn’t want to lose him all the way.

Packing a plate of food might not have been a fully conscious decision, but I did it. With Dan distracted by his friends, it was easy to sneak out. Not until my truck engine rumbled to life did I realize I’d never driven to Ryker’s house before. I think I know the way.

Nervous butterflies kept my stomach unsteady, and my heart beat out of rhythm. By the time I found his dark road, my palms were sweaty. My leg wouldn’t stop bouncing. The brief relief of finding the right street offered only a second of reprieve from my vibrating nerves.

I parked outside the garage and the dogs barking curved a bittersweet smile on my lips. I miss them too. I knocked on the garage door and Grayson’s whine flipped my smile to a frown. Why was he whining? Was Ryker not home?

“Demon, open the door.”

A trick Ryker had taught him in case he ever forgot his keys.

I’d seen him do it once when he left his garage opener at my apartment.

Demon ran up and jumped on the wall, pushing the button with his paw.

I wasn’t sure if he’d do it for me, but the door rumbled and lifted.

The dogs yelped and whined, circling me.

I knelt down and petted them both. “What’s wrong, sweeties?”

Maybe it’s the fireworks. I was surprised Ryker would leave them here alone if they had issues with fireworks. Grayson gave an especially loud whine and sprinted to the door leading to the house.

Tilting my head, I approached and tried to calm him with scratches, but another firework boomed, and a whimper startled me. Not from the dogs. One from the other side of the door.

Oh no. Ryker was a veteran. He hated Fourth of July. How dumb are you, Scarlett? There’s literally a whole group of people who struggle like him at Dan’s house!

I yanked open the door and concern rippled through my chest. Ryker sat on the floor, head between his legs, body shaking.

I knelt beside him, my pulse thrumming. “Ryker.”

The dogs rushed to his side and licked him in between concerned whines. I set my hand on his shoulder, and he flinched. His head snapped up, eyes red and expression twisted between agony and confusion. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Bringing you food. Hey.” I squeezed his trembling shoulder. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“I don’t need your fucking pi—”

Bang. Another firework exploded and he jolted, hugged his knees to his chest, and rocked. “Dammit!” He punched his leg, and I swallowed.

“Ryker.” I walked my fingers up to his neck and caressed his out-of-control pulse. “Don’t shut me out. It’s going to be okay.” I pulled my earbuds from my pockets and tried to turn his face toward me. “Come here.”

“Get out of here, Scarlett. It’s not your problem.”

Yeah, and it wasn’t your problem when I freaked out in bed. “I’m not going anywhere.” I brushed his hair back. “Let me help, Ryker.”

Vulnerability danced in his usually stoic eyes. His hands quivered. His chest rose and fell too fast. Every small noise made him twitch.

I held up the earbuds. “I can help.”

“I can’t use those,” he snapped, dropping his head between his knees. “It freaks me out.”

Another explosion, and he sucked in a breath, cursed, then slammed his fist against the ground. His knuckles split. Demon whined as he licked at the wound. I can’t leave him like this.

I stood and offered my hands. “Ryker, come here.”

He shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, baby. Come here.” I unfolded his arms and placed his hands on my shoulders. “You can do this. You’re not powerless. Come on.”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t move, but I did.

I held his hands to my shoulders and began to stand. I petted his wrists and pretended I didn’t notice the tear escape the corner of his eye. “You’re safe with me.”

Unsteady, he rose to his feet, and I locked my arms around him. He almost returned the embrace, but another firework went off. Ripping away from me, he smashed his fist into the wall, opening more cuts on his already bloody knuckles.

“Scarlett, leave . My brain isn’t in a good place. I might hurt you.” His voice cracked and he dropped his head into his hands, fingers digging into his scalp. “Just fucking leave.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me.” I pried his hands from his hair. “I’m not leaving.”

I wrapped an arm around his waist. He resisted at first but let me pull him out to my truck. I settled him in the passenger side and opened the tailgate. “Come on, sweeties.” I patted the bed of my truck. “We’re not leaving you alone with all this noise.”

They barked and sprinted over. Once both jumped in, I closed the tailgate and shut the garage door. Another firework detonated as I climbed into the driver’s seat, and Ryker released a shuddering, heartbreaking sound.

“Ryker.” I gripped his bicep. “Come here, baby.” I tugged him until he laid his head in my lap. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

Ryker turned his face toward my stomach and snaked his arms around my waist. I started the car and combed my fingers through his hair. I didn’t know where to go. There were too many events and parties. I needed to get him away from it all , so I got on the highway and drove out of the city.

More fireworks went off and his trembling arms tightened around me. I turned on the radio and found a station to drown out the sounds. Hoping to keep him fully distracted, I sang along with the music.

Ryker’s shaking slowly subsided. Whether it was the music, the growing distance between us and the big parties, or my fingers in his hair didn’t matter. All that mattered was it helped.

Time ceased to exist as I drove until everything around us quieted and no colorful fireworks illuminated the sky.

Exiting the highway, I found a dirt road that didn’t seem to lead anywhere.

Darkness and silence greeted us as dust danced in my headlights.

I stopped the truck and killed the engine, my heart thudding as I waited for the crack of a firework.

Please let this be far enough from everything. I waited five minutes. Ten. Fifteen. Nothing. If we were going to hear explosions, we would’ve by now.

Ryker’s arms constricted around me, his eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t breathe in here.”

“Let’s get you some fresh air.” I opened my door and guided him out.

Taking his hand, I pulled him with me into the bed of the truck.

The dogs yelped as he climbed in, both jumping at him.

After petting each of them, Ryker sank down, head hung between his knees.

The dogs cuddled beside him, and I returned to the cab.

Dan wanted me prepared for anything and insisted I keep a bag with blankets and a bunch of other stuff for emergencies. In that moment, I appreciated his paranoia. I dug the bag out from behind my seat and returned to the truck bed.

Ryker hadn’t moved. I draped a plaid blanket over his shoulders and one over mine before sitting next to him. While he slouched forward, head down, I rubbed gentle circles against his back. I wish I had something comforting to say. He’d never opened up to me about this part of his life.

I almost gave up on the rubbing, but he finally took a deeper breath, the tension in his shoulders relaxing a small amount. I scooted closer, wrapped my arms around him, and rested my chin on his shoulder. “What can I do?”

In a twisted way, the question almost made me laugh. It’s what he’d said to me our first night together when I freaked out. What do you need, sugar? What can I do?

Fuck. Definitely not over him.

“I’m tired.” The tremor in his voice clamped a vice around my chest. “I haven’t been sleeping. I’m so fucking tired , Scarlett.”

My eyes stung at the raw vulnerability. Despite not wanting to, I released him to roll my blanket into a makeshift pillow. Stars twinkling above us, I scooted forward, lay back against the blanket, and beckoned him toward me. “Come here.”

I expected a fight but didn’t get one. He let me direct his head onto my chest. I draped the blanket over both of us and hugged him. His body slumped against mine and burly arms curled around me.

“It’s okay.” I kissed his head. “I’ve got you.”

Both dogs cuddled against Ryker’s side and rested their heads on his back. Silence filled the vast space around us. Evidence he was awake came from the occasional wince, then he’d squeeze me tighter.

I pushed my fingers through his hair. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

I hesitated, nerves buzzing with uncertainty and concern. “Do you want to tell me why you can’t sleep?”

At first, he didn’t answer. He cuddled me like he never had before. Draped his leg over mine and pulled us so close, nothing could’ve come between us.

“Nightmares. Nightmares every fucking night .”

“Nightmares about what?”

“Things I did. People I killed.” His voice croaked. “One person in particular.”

I pursed my lips so I wouldn’t push. If he wanted to tell me more, he would. As much as I wanted to know, the last thing I wanted was for him to reopen a wound.

“He was only a little kid.” His words came out whispered and broken, the tremble in his body returning.

“I didn’t mean to, Scarlett.” He choked on the words.

“He got caught in the crossfire. I didn’t know he was in the house.

When the shots came at me and my friends .

. . I shot back to defend us. I didn’t know they had a kid in there.

Who the fuck shoots at armed soldiers with a goddamn kid in the house? ”

My stomach dropped and I shut my eyes to keep the tears from escaping. “It wasn’t your fault. You were defending yourself. It was an accident.”

“An accident that ended a kid’s life.” His warm tears dripped onto my skin.

“Oh, Ryker.” I twisted toward him. “I’m so sorry that happened. I’m sorry it haunts you like this.”

“I deserve it,” he muttered. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

I could’ve pushed it, but he didn’t need that right now. If he needed to change the subject, I’d let him.

“I’ve been in choirs most of my life.” I rested my cheek against his head. “I like singing.”

“Sing again.” He buried his face in my neck. “Please.”

I did. Until he fell asleep. I would’ve sung all night for him.