“That still doesn’t mean anything.”
My brows rose.
“All right, he’s going to have to have one hell of an excuse for it, but we really don’t know what was going on there. Paige is a friend of his and Hector’s, right? She knew Hector’s brother?”
I nodded.
“It could be harmless.”
I wanted it to be harmless. And a part of me didn’t. How crazy was that? But if it wasn’t harmless, then it would hurt and it would suck but my life would go back to normal. I wouldn’t have to worry about things like this. Or what Carl and Rosa thought of Rider. I wouldn’t have to fight for him.
Or fight in general.
I squirmed, uncomfortable with where my thoughts were going.
Ainsley placed her hand on my arm. “Has he tried to call you since you left?”
I glanced at my bag. “The phone rang a couple of times, but I...haven’t looked.”
She stared at me like I had half a functioning brain. “You should look. Seriously.”
“It’s probably Rosa or Carl.” But I slid off the bed anyway and grabbed my bag, bringing it back to me. I sat and opened the compartment. I hit the screen and disappointment crashed into me. “It’s not Rider’s. It’s an unknown number.”
“Oh.” She sighed heavily.
“Whoever it is left a message. Let me see who it is.”
“Maybe Carl and Rosa hired a private investigator to find you.”
Despite everything I laughed as I hit the message button. “That would be an excessive— Oh!” I stopped talking as I recognized the voice.
“What?” Her eyes widened as she rocked forward. “What?”
Shaking my head, I held my hand out as I hit Speaker on my phone. Both of us stared at it as Rider’s deep voice filled the room.
“Mallory, this is Rider. I’m using Hector’s phone. I forgot the battery was running low and mine died. Didn’t even realize it. I’m charging it now. Shit. None of that matters. He said you were here. That you were in the attic. Why didn’t you wake me up?”
There was a pause and Ainsley muttered, “Good question.”
I shot her a look as Rider continued. “Hell. I know why. Mallory, call me. Try this number or try mine. Call me.” There was the sound of a door shutting and then he said, “Please, Mallory. Call me.”
The call disconnected and we both sat there, continuing to stare at it.
Ainsley was the first to speak. “Are you going to call him?”
“I...” Hope rose, sweet and sugary compared to the bitterness of disappointment and frustration.
“He said his phone was dead. That explains why he didn’t answer when you called,” she reasoned. “And he’s never lied to you before, right?”
I shook my head. His battery had been low. I remembered that now.
“And he called, obviously right after you left,” she continued. “That has to mean something.”
I thought it did, but I honestly didn’t know what to think anymore.
“Call him,” Ainsley urged. “Give him a chance to explain himself.” As I looked up at her, she smiled faintly. “I’m not an expert in the whole love thing, but if you love him, you’ll give him a chance to explain himself. And you love him, right?”
My heart screamed yes.
“Call him.”
Chapter 33
I didn’t know what to do.
Well, I knew I had to go home and face the music, but when it came to Rider¸ I had no idea. I wanted to talk to him and I didn’t.
Right now I didn’t want him to have to worry about...about relationship drama. The boy he considered a brother had just been killed. He didn’t need to deal with me and what was and was not happening with us.
But I was also scared of what he had to say.
Scared of how it would make me feel either way.
He apparently hadn’t needed me.
I flinched. I hated that thought, because it was spiteful and it hurt. It clawed around in my chest, because when it came time for the script to be flipped, for me to be there for him, someone else had beaten me to it. The feeling sounded ridiculous, but that was how I felt. That was real.
And I felt like I failed somehow.
When I came home just before dinner, I expected Rosa and Carl to be where they were, in the kitchen, waiting to pounce on me the minute I walked through the door.
That didn’t happen.
The door to the library was closed, and I could hear someone moving around in the kitchen, most likely Rosa. I halted at the stairs, knowing I should just get this over with, go into the kitchen and face the music.
I hurried up the stairs instead and closed the bedroom door behind me. Pulling my phone out, I dropped my bag on the window seat. My phone had rung while I was driving. It was Rider, this time from his phone. He’d left a message again.
Knots formed in my belly as I lifted the phone to my ear and listened to the message. There was silence and then, “Dammit.” He didn’t say anything else. The message ended.
I sat on the window seat and stared at my phone. Stomach churning, I bit down on my lip.
I loved Rider.
Oh, God.
I was in love with him.
I knew that much was true. Love was the swelling, hopeful feeling in my chest every time I saw him. Love was the way I could forget about everything when I was with him. Love was the catch in my breath when he looked at me in his intense way. Love was the gasp he could draw out of me with the simplest of touches. Love was the way I could...I could be myself around him, know that I didn’t need to be perfect or worry about what he was thinking, because he accepted me. And all of that?