“She wanted to be here, but I told her I had it handled. Didn’t make sense for her to drive upset in the rain.”
I pull out my phone and bypass the hundred or more social media notifications to check her location. She’s still at the house. Ishouldbe excited about that, but considering the circumstance, I’m fucking terrified.
“So, what the hell did this asshole do?” Ricky asks. “Not like you to lose your shit.”
I imagine it, Seth touching my fucking wife, and I’m angry all over again.
“He kissed her,” I say under my breath, watching the city pass by outside my window.
In my peripheral vision, I see Ricky glance over at me, then he does a double-take. “The fuck?”
I nod. “Yep.”
“Shit, I would’ve beat his ass, too. Maybe worse.”
When most people say things like that, I’d take it with a grain of salt. But given Ricky’s past, I know he’s not exaggerating.
“You’re sure you’re good, though? You hurt?”
I shake my head. “He didn’t hit me.”
That has him laughing, and I smirk a little too.
“Should’ve known. It’s in our blood,” he says with an elbow nudge, and I shake my head.
“Yeah, I guess.” My head falls against the headrest with a sigh.
“It’s been a long night. I’m taking you to grab your truck, so you can get home and rest.”
“Yeah. Rest,” I scoff. We both know Blue has other plans. Like ripping me a new asshole for how I fucked this up.
We drive in silence the next few miles, then turn onto Seth’s street. My truck’s still where I left it, and Seth’s house is completely dark except for one room. Which must mean he wasn’t hurt bad enough to go to the hospital.
That’s good news, I guess.
Ricky pulls up to the curb, and the headlights illuminate my license plate when he stops behind my truck.
“Thanks again.”
“No problem. And don’t be too hard on yourself. You did exactly what most of us would’ve done.”
I nod because I appreciate the support. But support won’t do shit when I cross the threshold and face the only person who actually scares me.
***
Blue’s still parked in front of the house, and I pull up behind her instead of parking in the garage. My head and heart raced the entire drive over, because the fact that she didn’t leave and go back to Hunter’s is telling. It means she wants to strike while the iron is hot, wants me to feel the full force of her rage.
I curse under my breath as I climb the front steps, twisting the knob of the unlocked door. It’s mostly dark inside, but a dimlight coming from the direction of the kitchen calls out to me like a beacon. I lock up, then head that way, toward the smell of freshly brewed coffee where I’m likely to find a very angry blonde waiting at the table.
I turn the corner and see exactly that. Only, her face is red, and her eyes are puffy from crying. I can see that despite the only source of light being the soft glow from over the stove.
Shit, making her sad is the only thing worse than making her angry.
Why can’t I get this right? Why does every decision I make only fuck things up even further?
“Listen, Blue, I—”
“Don’t.”
