Jolted (Conflicted Encounters #1) (29 page)

I turned the windshield wipers up to full speed, trying see clearly. I reluctantly slowed while I took the curve, knowing first hand how dangerous it could be. When my headlights landed on the parked car on the side of the road, I finally took a breath. I pulled up behind the car I used to see everyday and put the truck in park.
 

Kallie sat at the base of the tree, much like the other day when we found her with the brother. Her hair was wet and sticking to her face. Her lips were moving and her hand ran down the side of the tree. I sat frozen with my hand on the door handle, watching her. Drops ran down her face and I couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.
 

A flash of lightening lit up the sky and she tilted her head up to the clouds. The sound of thunder rolled and rumbled. Her lips were still moving, but all I could hear was the rain beating down on the hood of the cab. When she rested her head on the tree and I saw her body shaking, I moved into action. She didn't even hear the sound of my door closing.
 

I knelt down beside her, unsure if I should touch her and what to say to get her out of the storm brewing. I knew she knew I was there, but she didn't acknowledge me. She picked up a framed photo of a group of soccer players and ran her fingers over the surface. My heart clenched at the loving gesture.
 

 
She laid it down where she picked up from and played with the charms on her bracelet. I saw the glint from the hose clamp she took from the shop. She unclasped the silver chain from her wrist and gently placed it with the photos and flowers at the roots. She stood and walked to the road, falling to her hands and knees. She rubbed her hands on the asphalt of the road and my chest tightened.
 

I grabbed her bracelet from the wet ground, shoved it into my pocket, and slowly came up behind her. She was running her small hands on the road, feeling the slickness and warmth soaked up from the sun. The rain pounded down on us while steam rose up from the grass and road, settling in a fog around us. I choked on the guilt inside me for making her feel like this.
 

Another flash of lightening made her flinch. Broken from her daze, she looked up at me. The blue in her eyes was the only color I could see around me. The world was an eerie black and white scene, except for her eyes on me. She studied me and examined me. I watched her debate and rearrange her thoughts. When she slowly stood, I braced myself for the backlash I was about to receive.
 

"You shouldn't be out here," I told her as the wind picked up and blew her wet hair around her face. "Let's get out of this." She ignored me and slowly walked to me. The rumble of thunder vibrated around us.

Her hands touched my face and I was startled by the contact. She held both sides of my face and looked at me with confusion and hurt. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Anger mixed with hate boiled inside, and I pulled away from her. "Me? Why didn't you tell me? I begged you to tell me what was going on with you, why you were hiding, and you refused to open up to me. You should've told me your boyfriend just died," I shouted over the wind and rain.
 

She glared back at me. Good, she should be angry with me. She should be. "Open up to you? You don't think I opened up to you? I did!"

"You could have told me your boyfriend died! Is that why you were here? To find someone to blame?"
 

"Blame?" she shouted back at me. "You think that helps at all? That it makes me feel any better? It doesn't! Nothing has changed," she yelled.

"Then why were you here?" I asked, coming close to her so I wouldn't need to shout.

"For you." Another crack of thunder broke my eye contact. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to the truck. I ignored her words; they didn't matter.
 

I opened the door and pushed her up into the seat. She stopped fighting once she was seated and I ran over to get into the driver's seat. Lightening lit up the inside of the cab and I saw her watching me as I drove. I drove away from the tree and didn't speak as she glared at me.
 

She could blame me. She should blame me. If it made her feel better, she could beat my ass for what I did. The brother seemed hell-bent on finding someone to blame, to make himself feel better. If it helped her, I would take all the blame from her, from him, and from myself.

"How did it happen?" she asked in a firm voice. I couldn't decide if it was from anger or strength.
 

"Shut up, Kallie. I'm not telling you that."

"Yes, you are," she argued. "I need to know. I just have to," she added quietly.

I hit the breaks and turned the steering wheel sharply, sending us into a fish tail. When the front of the truck did a complete turn and we were facing the direction we just came from, I punched the gas pedal again. The truck swerved and squealed as the tires struggled to gain traction on the wet road.
 

The truck straightened and I kept gunning it. "You want to know, Princess? That will make you feel better?" I screamed over the roar of the engine and the storm outside. I slammed on the brakes when we hit the grass at the dreaded spot we just left. Kallie jerked forward from the sudden stop and I held her back with my arm. I just about broke the shifter when I threw it in park.
 

"I was drunk, typical," I started in a hard voice. I remembered stumbling around the bonfire. "I should've just crashed on his couch, like I usually did. But I got a bug up my ass and I wanted to go home, so I asked Logan to give me a ride."

"You weren't driving?" she asked, staring out the front windshield.

"No, but I shouldn't have asked him," I growled, angry at myself. "He was drinking, too, and it was my fault he was even on the road that night."
 

I could still remember joking with him and harassing him to take me home. The party was starting to die down because of the rain, and I knew Scarlett had already left. I didn't feel like sleeping on his stiff couch or the floor. When I called him a bitch for the third time, he finally gave in and grabbed his keys.
 

"What happened? Please, Ryder, I need to know," she pleaded.

"It was raining and we came around this curve too fast," I told her. "We saw him too late." I swallowed as I remembered seeing the light fill our cab at the last second and the truck suddenly jerking to the right. I could hear the sound of metal crunching and our yells in my head. "We tried to help him. It was too late."
 

We sat in silence and I replayed the scene in my head. My legs were heavy as we ran to the smoking car in the grass. Logan flung open the door; I grabbed the limp body's jacket and pulled him from the car. My breathing stopped as the image of the bloody and terrified face flashed in front of my mind.

It's the same face that haunted my dreams every night. I could still see his eyes, blue like Kallie's, looking up at me as I heard Logan on the phone beside me. My dreams replayed the words I told him to keep him calm while we waited for help. Every night, behind my closed eyelids, I saw his face, draining of life and eyes slowly closing.
 

I looked at the spot in front of us and could see the blue and red lights flashing and reflecting off the trees around us. I could see myself and Logan, standing in front of the officers in uniform, walking a straight line for them. In my mind, I saw us being escorted into the backseat of police cruisers while the ambulance slowly drove away.
 

I stepped out of my truck as I saw the ambulance pull away from the imaginary scene in my mind. The lights were flashing, but the sirens didn't sound. It was driving too slow, in no rush to save the man's life. Logan's face, full of regret and pain, flashed in my memory. I felt a hand on my shoulder that jerked me out of my memories.

I spun around and looked down into her face. Water droplets gathered on her skin and her wide eyes were on me. "Don't you see? This is all my fault! I killed him," I cried as I sank down to my knees in the road.
 

"You didn't," she said as she knelt beside me and tried to look me in the eyes.
 

I reached out and pushed her away from me. "Yes, I did. Stop trying to please everyone around you," I said to her, out of anger. "I did this."

Kallie pushed herself up and stood over me. I could feel her eyes burning into me from above. The rain beat down on my back and was soaking through my leather jacket. The smell of the wet leather only brought back more memories of that night.
 

"No," she said as she shoved my shoulder. "Ever since I came into this town, I stopped trying to please everyone around me. So don't tell me what to do. And I'm not going to blame you."

I stood and stalked over to her, full of rage. She backed away from me as I seethed. "I'm no good for you. I warned you. I would only hurt you. I did hurt you and I did it before I even fucking met you. Stay. Away. From. Me."

A loud cracking sound was all I heard before I felt the burning and stinging in my cheek.
 

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-F
IVE

Kallie

Ryder's eyes went wide as I put my hand back to my side. My palm stung from the slap, but the pain was welcome.
 

"You don't get to call all the shots," I said through gritted teeth. "I feel a lot of things right now, not just hurt. I have been through hell and back with no one to hold my hand or help me through it."

"And why is that? You could have fucking told someone," he said in a low voice.

"Why? It didn't matter. Everyone back home expected me to get up, move on, and pick up where I left off. I was supposed to continue being the girl everyone knew me as. Nothing anyone here could have said, or done, would have made it all go away. Nothing was going to make it better. What I needed was to be able to be sad, to hurt, and feel better. I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want to shove it deep down and ignore it. I wanted to pretend it didn't happen."

"But it did."

"Yes, I know. I lost my first love. I lost a man that loved me, that would have given me the world. But you want to know what else I lost?"
 

"No," he said as he looked away. It was a fine moment to decide to be honest with me.

"I lost my way. I lost the girl I built around him. I didn't know who I was if I wasn't Carter's girl. I had no idea how to continue with school when my biggest cheerleader wasn't on the sideline. I didn't know how to be with old friends when I felt like I wasn't the same person they knew anymore. I didn't know what the future held when all my plans were pulled out from under me."

I paused to take in deep breaths. My chest was heaving and my skin burned from the wrath running in my veins. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
 

If every one of my senses weren't on high alert, I may not have heard it. Something inside me broke looking at the pain in his eyes.
 

"I know," I said softly. "But I can't blame you. I am hurt, I miss him, and I'm confused. I don't have room in me for hate and blame. I just don't."

"Make room, because it's all my fault." His voice cracked at the end.

"Ryder, it could have been another car. It could have been anyone leaving the party. He could have stayed on the highway, like we usually did. It could have been dry out. None of that matters," I said, stepping closer to him. Now, hearing the words that I was saying out loud, I believed what I was telling him. Josh may have found closure in blame, but it did none of that for me.
 

He took a step back and looked back at the scene of the accident. I saw the slump in his shoulders and the despair on his face. I wanted nothing more than to take him in my arms and soothe the pain away. My heart broke as I watched drops run down his face. I doubted it was the rain.
 

For that moment, I could picture him terrified and confused, looking over at a mangled car. It's an image I've seen many times in my dreams, but it only ever included Carter. I never thought about the reasons or someone to blame. None of that mattered because he was gone. I watched as the guilt ate Ryder up right in front of me and thought of Logan, and how he felt.
 

"Ryder," I said tentatively as I reached for him. "Please look at me."

He shook his head. "I can't. You should leave. Go home."

"Please," I pleaded. "You're important to me and I can't lose you, too," I broke off with tears.
 

He spun around and his arms were wrapped around my body instantly. I cried into the wet leather of his jacket, and my tears ran down with the rain drops. He ran his hand through my wet hair, getting caught in the tangles. I shivered as he held me close to his chest.
 

"I'm so sorry," he repeated into my hair.

"I know," I said. "I don't blame you, and I don't hate you. I just can't."

"I just don't know if I can do the same."

He squeezed me harder and as I rested my head on his chest, I looked over at the tree. I came into this town screaming and punching that tree for taking the love of my life. I was looking for answers and something to ease the ache I felt in my heart. I found my relief somewhere else, though. Tonight, I sat in the grass and said goodbye. I thanked Carter for everything he gave me, taught me, and helped me through. I told him I loved him.
 

I would never trade a second that I spent with him. He taught me how to love, how to receive love, and how amazing it could be. He backed me in every accomplishment and always believed in me. He would have made an amazing father and role model. It was a shame the rest of the world couldn't have seen it. I really do pity those lives that would never be touched by him.
 

With his death, I learned another lesson. I learned how to stand on my own two feet. I learned how to be me and how to be true to myself. I learned that if I wanted to be happy, I had to do that for myself. I hated that I had to run away to grieve, to feel pain and let myself get swallowed up in it, but I did. I imagined myself trying to learn to ride a bike with Carter letting go so I could try to hold myself up.
 

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