Page 50 of Running Risk

RYLEE: NOW

Picking up a French fry, I dunk it in ketchup and take a bite. I love fries, but eating them late at night makes them even better, if that’s possible.

“Why won’t you agree to go out with me?” Avery asks Trish, as he faces her. One arm on the back of their booth and the other on the table, basically cornering her to get an answer.

“You’re not my type.” She flips her hair off her shoulder, avoiding his gaze. She picks up her drink and takes a sip, then plays with the straw, swirling the liquid in the cup.

I scoff because even I know she’s full of crap.

She’s been flirting incessantly with him, hanging out as friends, and now that he’s taking her bait, she’s pulling away.

She always wants to make guys work for it, proving they’re actually interested.

It’s always been a cat-and-mouse game. It’s not my type of thing, but it seems to work for her.

He leans closer. “You and I both know that’s not true.” He kisses her on the cheek, making her flush.

I stifle a laugh and pick up my burger, taking a large bite.

Clayton chuckles next to me, and I glance at him.

“What?” I mumble with a full mouth. I startle, realizing how close he is.

I was so focused on not thinking about him that somehow my butt is in the middle of the booth, making him sit on the edge.

I’m glad he seems to be relaxing because I don’t like seeing him miserable, and I honestly don’t like the feeling either.

What’s done is done, and I’m determined to move on.

“You still like food just as much as you used to.” He gestures to my half-eaten burger and disappearing fries.

I swallow and scoot over without making it too obvious I need a little space. “I’m hungry. What’s wrong with that?” I take another bite of my greasy, delicious burger.

Now it’s his turn to face me. “You’re always hungry, Ry.”

I watched him throw back a shot and the rest of his beer as we left the bar, walking next door to the diner. It seems like he’s thrown caution to the wind and isn’t holding back.

“Can I get you all anything else?” our waitress, Betty, asks as she makes her rounds, topping off our drinks.

I want a milkshake, but the way Clayton is looking at me in challenge, I refuse to prove him right, so I pick up my burger and take another bite.

“She’ll take a strawberry milkshake with no whipped cream or cherry.” Clayton looks at me with his scarred eyebrow cocked. Then, glancing over his shoulder, he adds, “And I’ll take a chocolate one.”

“Oh, oh!” Trish bounces in her seat. “That sounds good. I’ll take a strawberry one too, but I want whipped cream and a cherry.” Her face beams.

Betty nods as she writes down our additional order.

“Put me down for a chocolate.” Avery leans back in the booth, stretching his arm across the back.

“Okay, I’ll get those ready for you and be back in a minute.”

We nod our thanks, and I turn to Clayton with my mouth pursed .

“Don’t even.” He shakes his head. “Stubborn thing,” he mumbles.

I scoff and go back to eating, stuffing another fry in my mouth.

I didn’t miss the smirk on his lips. I sometimes forget how well he knows me.

He knows my favorite foods and how much I love eating, especially late at night.

Growing up, he would pick me up and we would go sit in the parking lot of a fast food place, eat, talk, and laugh.

I miss those times. I swallow my last bite, and it feels like I let a rock tumble down my throat, landing with a thud.

I squirm in my seat, struggling to ease the ache in my stomach.

“What’s your deal?” Trish leans over the table, eyeing Clayton right as Betty brings our shakes.

The guys slide the cups across the table, and Clayton grabs a fistful of his fries and tosses them on my plate.

Trish watches him as she waits for his reply, but he shrugs and takes a long pull of his shake.

Trish looks at me, then at the fries, knowing how much I like to dip them in my shake.

The recognition that Clayton also knows this is written across her face.

Leaning back in my seat, I fold my hands over my stomach as I watch Avery say something to Trish.

Her focus is temporarily off Clayton, but I tune them out.

A rock rolls around in my stomach and is only getting larger by the minute.

Clayton knows me. He knows me better than anyone else.

We used to be able to talk about anything, but he shut me out.

I loved working with him, but it doesn’t diminish the fact that he left me high and dry and never tried to make amends.

But there’s something that I need to know that I’ve buried, and until I know the answer, I won’t be able to fully move on.

“I need to talk to you,” I say to Clayton, giving him a nudge to get out of the booth.

He looks at me, shocked, but puts down his shake, scooting off the bench to stand.

“We’ll be right back,” I say to our friends, before walking out the door of the diner.

As I go down the sidewalk, I turn to look at Clayton.

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He stands there with his hands in his pockets like he’s waiting for the impact.

My heart breaks a little more seeing what a good man he is, knowing I missed out on many years without him in my life.

Tears well up in my eyes. “Why didn’t you come back for me?

” my voice cracks. “You didn’t even reach out. ”

His eyes widen, like he wasn’t expecting this.

He probably expects me to give him another piece of my mind, but this is what has been keeping me up at night.

He never tried. I know his mom must have told him I tried to go to him at the airport, but I guess I don’t know that for certain.

I figured she would let him know, and he would reach out to me. But that moment never came.

“What are you talking about?” His eyebrows furrow, and I can’t help but focus on the scar across one of them.

I walk away from him, grasping the back of my neck. When I turn around, I rein in my emotions to keep my voice level and restrain the tears that beg to spill over. “I came to the airport the day you left.”

He cocks his head to the side, the lines between his eyebrows deepening.

“I thought you would reach out to me after, but you never did,” my voice cracks on the last part. “You just left and never turned back.”

His lips press into a firm line. “I—” He rubs his hands up and down his face. “I couldn’t.”

God, what I would have done to hear his voice, even for a moment. I was unbearably sad and also terrified that something would happen to him.

He sighs. “When I joined, I had to stay focused. I rose through the ranks fast, and the men respected me. But more importantly, they put their lives in my hands, and I had to put them above all else.”

I shake my head. “I don’t understand.”

“My mom told me years later that you came to the airport, but by that point, I was in command of my own squad.” He rakes his fingers through his hair, and his muscles strain as they flex. “You were a distraction that my men couldn’t afford, and before that, I needed to figure out my life.”

My eyes lower, and I search for anything to say because I’m speechless, listening to the truth hidden in his words.

“I saw you, you know.”

My gaze jumps to meet his. “What?”

“Twice, actually, but both times, you were with the same guy.” He laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Each time, I got my ass handed to me the next day for being distracted.”

“Ray.” The name slips out with barely a whisper. An important name from my past rings in my ears. He gave me a friendship I needed, and I thought we were on the same page. But he wanted more, and I couldn’t give that to him. So he walked out of my life and never looked back.

Clayton’s eyes harden as he hears the name.