21. Colt

21

COLT

I stared at the door for a long time after Ridley sailed through it, the glass vibrating right along with her fury.

Fuck.

“I thought I had a bad track record with women,” Norm muttered.

“You do,” Celia shot back from her spot next to Mira at the counter as they waited for drinks.

Hell. I hadn’t realized they’d come in. News of this would spread in no time flat. Not that I didn’t deserve that little hit to my pride. I did. I just didn’t want more people in Ridley’s business, and mine.

“Woman,” Norm hollered, “don’t you fuss at me.”

Celia arched a brow in his direction. “Careful there, Norm. I might not make you dinner anymore if you don’t watch your tone.”

Mira’s lips twitched. “And by dinner she means?—”

“Sweet baby Jesus,” Sam cut her off. “I do not need to hear about what those two are up to in their love-hate relationship.”

Neither did I. Where the hell was the brain bleach when you needed it?

Sam’s eyes narrowed on me. “You going to fix that?”

I shuddered. “I don’t think there’s any fixing knowing that Norm and Celia are together.”

“Colter Brooks, don’t make me box your ears,” Celia shouted.

Sam shook his head. “Two full names in five minutes has to be a record.”

“Even I haven’t gotten that,” Norm mumbled.

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I don’t need your help with Ridley.”

Mira’s eyes danced with amusement. “Sure looks like you do from where I’m standing.”

“Damn straight,” Sam echoed. “That’s a good woman you sent running out the door. Now you need to go make it right.”

My back teeth ground together. I knew he was right. I just didn’t have the first clue how to get Ridley to forgive me, not this time. “I gotta go,” I muttered, heading for the door.

“Chicken!” Sam called after me.

“Now don’t use that word as an insult; it’s not fair to our feathered friends,” Celia scolded.

God help me, this town was going to kill me.

I pulled up to my familiar childhood home, now painted that sunny yellow my sister loved. I stared at it for a long moment before finally shutting off the engine and climbing out of my SUV. I didn’t know why I’d found my way here instead of the office, where I should be, but I headed up the front steps anyway.

Before I could lift my hand to knock, the door was opening and Emerson was greeting me with a scowl.

I sighed. “Who told you?”

She let out a huff, her exasperation clear. “Celia called. What were you thinking, Colt? Accusing Ridley of assault?”

I winced. I guessed word really had made the rounds and not just the bits and pieces. Bear broke away from Em and made his way over to me in solidarity, leaning against me for some pets. “I fucked up,” I admitted.

“No kidding,” Emerson said, waving me in and back toward the kitchen as her two smaller dogs barked in the backyard. She moved to the fridge, pulling out some lemonade and pouring two tall glasses. “Sit.”

“Why do I feel like I just got sent to the principal’s office?”

“Because you did.” Emerson set the glass in front of me with a thump against the worn wood. “What is going on with you?”

I stared at my sister as she sat. In moments like this one, she seemed like any other twenty-six-year-old with her whole life ahead of her. Normal. But I still saw the moments her hands shook when she stepped outside or how a panic attack could grab hold when a memory triggered her. Emerson’s life had been stolen from her in so many ways. And that had messed with my head more than I wanted to admit.

I forced my gaze down to the lemonade, sunshine in a glass, so different from the storm clouds I felt brewing. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I finally admitted.

Emerson let out a long breath. “What happened to me isn’t on your shoulders.”

“I know that,” I lied.

“And neither is it single-handedly your responsibility to find out who did it.”

My jaw worked back and forth. “I know that too.”

“You’re such a shit liar.”

I grimaced. “It could’ve been her, Shortcake. She could’ve been the one who broke in, who hurt Dawson.”

Emerson was quiet for a long moment. “It would be easier if it was her. I get that much.”

My gaze lifted to Em’s. “You haven’t seen how determined she is. I just—I know that sort of single-minded focus can turn. I thought it might’ve.”

“As determined as Ridley is, I don’t see her breaking into a police station, let alone assaulting an officer.” Emerson paused for a moment, really taking me in. And the focus had me fighting not to squirm. “She’s trying to help, Colt.”

“I know that,” I ground out, the guilt only settling in further.

“So let her. Maybe offer some help, some information. I know you’ve got files upon files on my case.”

I didn’t miss the slight tremor in Em’s hand as she reached for her glass. Bear instantly moved to put his head in her lap. This was just another example of why I didn’t want Ridley digging—the ramifications it had.

“Colt,” Emerson whispered, drawing my gaze back to her face. “I can handle this. Trust me to know what I can do and what I can’t.”

“It’s my job to look out for you. I’m your big brother,” I croaked.

A soft smile spread across Emerson’s face. “I appreciate that. But don’t take it too far, all right? Ridley isn’t a danger to me.”

“She might be to me,” I muttered.

Emerson chuckled. “I like that she keeps you on your toes.”

“You would.”

That only made Em laugh more. “You need to apologize.”

“I tried. She wasn’t interested.”

Emerson’s mouth pursed. “That doesn’t seem like her.” I traced the rim of my glass, and Em’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me, Colter Brooks?”

Three full names in thirty minutes? Sam would have a field day with that.

“I might’ve apologized already. I think my accusing her of assault afterward might’ve dulled the effects of my apologies.”

Emerson groaned, leaning back in her chair. “You could use a good shake.”

“I know,” I sulked.

Em drummed her fingers on the table as she studied me. “You need to show her you mean the apology. Change the behavior.”

“I can’t change my behavior around her if she runs out of a room the second I enter it.”

Emerson waved me off. “Doesn’t matter. Actions speak louder than words, and since your words have been seriously lacking?—”

“Hey!”

She arched a brow. “Where’s the lie?”

I slumped back in my chair. “Fine. She needs me to speak with my actions.”

Emerson grinned. “She does. And I know exactly how you’re going to start.”