Chapter 10

Calla:

The second the ballroom doors closed behind us, Reve's smile disappeared. It didn't fade. It didn't soften. It vanished. Like someone had flipped a switch. The valet pulled his BMW around, and neither of us spoke as he opened my door. I slid into the passenger seat, smoothing the wrinkles from my teal dress more out of habit than concern. The door shut. The silence came with it. The city lights streaked across the windshield as we pulled away from the marina. Normally, Reve filled silence. Business. Racing. Politics. Whatever crossed his mind. Tonight… Nothing.

His jaw flexed every few seconds. Both hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly the leather creaked beneath his fingers. I watched the bridge lights reflect across the bay. One… Two… Three… 

Finally— "You should stay away from him."

I kept my eyes on the water. "I knew we'd get here eventually."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"He isn't your problem anymore."

I looked over. "And yet he seems to be yours."

His eyes stayed fixed on the road. "I don't like loose ends."

The words settled wrong. Not because of what he said. Because of how naturally he said them. Like he wasn't talking about a person. Like Jace was a problem someone forgot to clean up.

"You've hated him for a long time."

His jaw tightened. "He killed Camden."

The words should've landed. They always had before. Tonight… They didn't. Instead, I found myself hearing Reid's voice from the garage. If Jace really did it... why'd he come back? I hated that question. Mostly because I didn't have an answer. Reve finally pulled beneath my apartment building. The Mercedes eased to a stop.

He looked at me for the first time since we'd left the gala. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Calla." His voice was calm again. Controlled. Like the last twenty minutes hadn't happened.

I nodded once. "Night." I climbed out. Before I'd even reached the door… The BMW disappeared down the street. Too fast. Much too fast. I watched the taillights disappear. "...Weird." I adjusted my clutch beneath my arm and headed toward the elevator. Halfway through the lobby… I stopped. My stomach dropped. "...No." I opened my clutch. Lipstick. Wallet. Keys. No phone. I closed my eyes. "Seriously?" I pictured exactly where I'd left it. The garage. On Camden's old desk. Right after Dad showed up. I'd been so irritated I'd walked straight out without grabbing it. I looked at the elevator. Then toward the parking garage. I could call it a night. Or… I could drive twenty minutes and get it. Honestly… After that disaster of an evening… I needed the drive.

—

The Nissan came alive with a familiar rumble. Not loud enough to wake the neighborhood. Just enough to remind me who I was every time my hand wrapped around the shifter. I rolled the windows down. The night air rushed inside immediately. Salt. Ocean water. Summer. Founder's Bridge stretched ahead, its lights glowing white against the dark water below. The city slowly gave way to Riverside. Luxury condos disappeared. Old bait shops took their place. The roads narrowed. Streetlights grew farther apart. Everything slowed down. Thank God. I pulled into the garage lot. Empty. Dark. Exactly what I wanted.

I killed the engine. Silence settled around me. For the first time all day… I could breathe. I climbed out. The gravel crunched beneath my heels. The cool night air wrapped around my bare shoulders. I leaned back against my car and let my head fall. My eyes closed. One slow breath. Then another. The tension in my shoulders finally started to loosen. No pretending. No smiling. No cameras. Just… Quiet.

I opened my eyes. A black Camaro sat beneath the security light. Clean. Low. Familiar. My breath caught. No. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. He stood near Camden's garage door, one hand resting against the old steel like he'd been frozen there for years. For one impossible second… All I saw was eighteen-year-old Jace. Laughing. Covered in grease. Arguing with Camden over who'd forgotten to tighten a bolt. Then reality crashed back. He looked up. Our eyes met.

Something inside me snapped. "What the hell are you doing here?" The words echoed across the empty lot.

He straightened. "Calla—"

"No." I was already walking. Fast. "You don't get to say my name."

His expression shifted. "I'm not here to—"

"You don't get to come here." I shoved him. Hard. He stumbled back one step but didn't push me away. "This was his place!" Another shove. "You hear me?"

"Calla—"

"Don't." My voice cracked. "I said don't." He looked like he wanted to say a hundred things. None of them came out. That only made me angrier. "You disappear." I shoved him again. "You leave." Another shove. "And then you just..." I gestured wildly around us. "...show back up?"

"I know how this looks."

"You don't know anything."

His eyes dropped. "I know I hurt you." 

A laugh burst out of me. Sharp. Bitter. "Hurt me?" I stepped closer until barely a foot separated us. "You think that's what this is?" He stayed quiet. "My brother is dead." The words landed between us like broken glass. "My parents sold our home. I buried half my life. I watched everyone pick sides." My chest heaved. "And you..." I jabbed a finger into his chest. "...you vanished."

"I couldn't stay."

"You didn't even try."

"I—"

"You left me." Silence. The words surprised both of us. I hadn't meant to say them.

 His face changed. Pain. Real pain. "I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "No."

"Calla..."

"No." Tears burned behind my eyes. Absolutely not. Not in front of him. "I waited." The confession slipped out anyway. "Do you know that?" His eyebrows pulled together. "I waited for you to explain. I waited for you to tell me it wasn't true. I waited for you to fight. I waited..." My voice barely worked anymore. "...and you left."

Every word seemed to knock the air out of him. "I came back." Three simple words. Too late.

"So you could what?" I laughed again. "Ease your conscience?"

"No."

"Relive old memories?"

"No."

"Then why?"

He looked toward Camden's office. "I'm going to find out what happened." I stared at him.

"What happened?"

His eyes met mine. "The truth."

Something in my stomach twisted. For just a heartbeat. Then I crushed it. "The truth?" I stepped closer again. "The truth is Camden trusted you. The truth is he loved you like a brother. The truth is..." I could barely force the words out. "...he died racing you."

His shoulders sagged. "I know."

"No." I shook my head slowly. "You don't. You weren't the one standing beside his casket. You weren't the one listening to people whisper every time I walked into a grocery store. You weren't the one trying to keep this place alive while everyone moved on."

"I never moved on."

I looked him dead in the eyes. "I don't care." Silence swallowed us. The security light buzzed overhead. Somewhere down the street, a train horn echoed through Riverside.

"I loved him too." His voice was barely above a whisper. Something inside me wanted to believe him. Something older than anger. Older than grief. The little girl who used to chase him down the dock. I buried her two years ago, right there with Camden.

"You don't get to say that."

"I do."

"No. You don't." I took one final step back. My hands were shaking. My heart hurt. And I hated him for making it hurt. "You don't get to come back here. You don't get to stand in front of his garage. You don't get to act like you're grieving." He didn't argue. Didn't defend himself. Just stood there. That somehow made everything worse. I pointed toward his Camaro. "Leave." He didn't move. "I said leave." Still nothing. The tears I'd been fighting finally escaped. One. Then another. I wiped them away angrily. "I don't ever want to see you here again." My voice broke completely. "You should've stayed gone." The words hung in the humid night. For a long moment, neither of us moved. Then I looked at him one last time. At the boy who'd once felt like family. At the man the entire city blamed. Every memory I'd spent years trying to bury collided with the image standing in front of me. My chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. 

When I spoke again, my voice was quiet. Deadly. Filled with every ounce of pain I'd carried for two years. "You're a killer. Jace Maddox." The words struck him harder than any shove had. I saw it. The flinch. The devastation. But I couldn't stop now. Not after everything. Not after Camden. I turned away before he could see another tear fall and walked toward the garage door, leaving him standing alone in the parking lot beneath the buzzing security light, exactly where ghosts belonged.