The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

7. Cecilia

cecilia

. . .

I follow Jaymin’s driver to the car, my legs shaky but determined. The night air is cold against my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the icy dread that’s coiled in my stomach. The SUV looms ahead, dark and intimidating, and I swallow hard as the driver pulls the door open for me.

The ride is silent, the air inside thick with unspoken tension, so heavy it feels like I’m choking on it. My thoughts spin, tangled and knotted in the aftermath of everything.

Five years.

I can’t believe I agreed to five years.

I stare out the window, watching the dark streets blur by, but I don’t really see anything. The idea of him walking around, free, is almost too much to process. My fingers curl into the fabric of my dress, twisting until my knuckles turn white. Every time I think I’m safe, it’s like the rug gets ripped out from under me again.

We pull up somewhere in the neighborhood where they originally picked me up, and I mutter a quick, “Thanks,” before practically bolting from the car. The air hits me like a slap, cool and biting, but it does nothing to calm the storm raging inside me.

I stand on the side of the road, my breath fogging up in the chilly night as I watch the SUV disappear down the street, the taillights a dull red glow in the distance.

Reaching into my pocket, I pull out my phone. My fingers tremble as I swipe my finger over the screen. It’s off again. My heart skips a beat. Did the battery die? Did Jaymin turn it off when I wasn’t looking?

A few agonizing seconds pass, but then the screen lights up. Relief floods through me, so palpable I almost sag against the nearby lamppost. It’s not dead. That’s one positive thing going for me, at least.

Ignoring the barrage of notifications that pop up on the screen, I scroll through my contacts until I find Felix’s number. He said I could call him.

I hesitate, biting my lip. Should I, though? It’s late. He’s probably busy.

Screw it. I need to call someone, and I’m not really coming up with a better option.

It rings once before he picks up.

“Cecilia? Is that you?” He rushes out as soon as the line connects.

The concern in his voice is like a punch to the gut, and I realize how much I’ve been holding my breath. “Hi. Yeah. Umm … sorry. I know it’s late. But, you said I could call?—”

“Of course you can.” There’s noise in the background—voices, the clatter of something heavy—but Felix hushes them, muttering out, “I know, I know,” before his attention returns to me. “Are you okay? Where are you?”

I rub the back of my neck, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I’m fine,” I lie, my voice sounding thin even to my own ears. “But, uh, I’m not really sure where I am. Let me check.” I squint in the dim light, taking a few steps toward the corner of the street. The shadows stretch long and ominous across the pavement as I strain my eyes to make out the street name. “Hold on.”

“Relax,” Felix murmurs, almost to himself.

“Huh?” I glance around, confused.

“Sorry, not you,” Felix says quickly. “The guys are being stupid.”

Oh. “Okay, so—yeah, I’m at the corner of Priest and Boone. Is that far from you?”

The line goes quiet for a moment, and then I hear him curse under his breath, followed by a rushed conversation with someone else in the background. My stomach twists. Why does it feel like there’s something more going on?

“Felix?” I say, voice wavering.

“We’re on our way,” he responds, his tone suddenly sharp. “Don’t hang up, though. Okay?”

I frown, staring down the empty street. “Yeah. Okay.” I shift on my feet, glancing nervously over my shoulder. I wasn’t planning on wandering off, but the urgency in his voice makes me uneasy.

His words suddenly register. “Wait—what do you mean, ‘we’? Who’s with you?”

There’s another muffled conversation in the background. It’s obvious I’ve interrupted something. Guilt gnaws at me. This was a mistake. He’s busy. I don’t know what I was thinking. “Actually, don’t worry about it,” I say quickly. “I’ll call a ride share. Enjoy your night?—”

“DO NOT HANG UP THE PHONE.”

The command is so sharp, so sudden, that I freeze mid-step. Felix has never spoken to me like that before. His voice is always easygoing, playful. This? This is something else.

“O-okay,” I stammer, unsure what else to say.

He exhales, the sound rough. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. But, Cecilia ... the last few hours have been a shitshow trying to find you.”

My heart skips a beat. “You were looking for me?”

“Yeah.” He hesitates, and I can hear the tension in his voice. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone, but?—”

I cut him off, already knowing what he’s about to say. “Austin’s out on bail.”

The silence on the other end is heavy for a moment. Then, quietly, “You heard?”

I huff out a bitter laugh, staring up at the sky, the stars blinking coldly above me. “You could say that.”

Felix’s voice is softer when he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

I swallow hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to breathe. “Yeah,” I whisper, my fingers tightening around the phone. “I’m okay.”

“We’re less than ten minutes away. Just keep talking to me, alright? Tell me where you’ve been.”

I hesitate. My conversation with Jaymin feels like something I need to process on my own first, something I’m not ready to share. “It’s ... complicated,” I hedge, my gaze flicking up and down the empty street.

“But you’re safe? You’re not hurt?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

“I’m not hurt,” I assure him. “Just ... a little shaken up.”

We fall into small talk, the minutes ticking by as I keep my eyes on the dark road. I’m glad Felix made me stay on the phone. Being out here, alone, in the dark, sends a chill creeping up my spine. Every gust of wind, every shadow feels like it’s hiding something. Someone.

A pair of headlights cuts through the night, the beams growing brighter as they approach. My heart picks up, and I squint, trying to make out the car.

“That’s us,” Felix says through the phone. “I see you. We’re pulling up now.”

We both end the call as his car pulls to a stop in front of me. The passenger door flies open before the car even comes to a full stop, and Felix curses as Gabriel barrels out, heading straight for me.

“Cecilia!” Gabriel’s voice is hoarse, desperate. Before I can even process what’s happening, he has me wrapped in his arms, my feet lifting me off the ground like he can’t bear the distance.

His body is warm, solid, and I cling to him without hesitation. My heart is pounding in my chest, and I squeeze him tight. His breathing is ragged as he buries his face in my neck, and I feel the soft tremble in his shoulders.

“Fuck, I was so worried,” he breathes, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of my throat. His hold on me is tight, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he loosens his grip.

I don’t understand what’s happening. He was so angry earlier. But right now, all I feel is his desperation, his need to be close to me.

I don’t have time to think, to question. My body reacts to his without thought, my arms winding tighter around his neck, holding him like he’s the only thing keeping me grounded.

He sets me back on my feet, but his hands never leave me, cupping my face, his forehead pressed against mine. “I thought I lost you,” he whispers, his breath warm and ragged against my skin.

I blink, confusion swirling inside me. “I thought you were mad?—”

He cuts me off with his mouth, crashing into mine with a fierceness that steals my breath. For a split second, I forget everything—where I am, what I was going to say—and kiss him back, hard. His lips are demanding, his kiss rough and desperate, and I can feel the raw emotion behind it.

But then reality slams into me.

“Wait,” I gasp, pulling back, but Gabriel doesn’t let go. His lips press to my cheek, my temple, trailing warmth and fire wherever they touch.

“Gabriel—”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs against my skin. “I’ve got you. I’m here.”

But that’s not what I mean. I push against his chest, confusion and anger swirling inside me, mixing into a chaotic mess. “I can’t do this,” I whisper, more to myself than to him, but I push harder.

His arms drop, uncertainty flickering in his eyes as I step back, the space between us suddenly too much and not enough at the same time.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice cracking slightly.

I shake my head, tears pricking the backs of my eyes. “Where is this coming from?” My voice is shaky, my chest tightening with emotions I don’t understand. “You were furious with me a few hours ago. You wouldn’t even talk to me. What’s changed?”

His face softens, and he steps closer again, his hand reaching for mine. “I was an idiot,” he admits, his voice rough with regret. “I thought I lost you, Cecilia.” His words are a whisper, meant only for me. “When I found out Holt got out and I couldn’t find you ... I thought … I can’t even say it out loud.”

I look into his eyes, seeing the truth there. The fear. The vulnerability. He pulls me close again, pressing my head to his chest. His heart races beneath my ear, pounding hard and fast.

“Fuck, I hope you can forgive me,” he whispers into my hair, his voice broken. “I need you to forgive me. I was out of line. I wasn’t—” he chokes out his words. “I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“There’s nothing to forgive,” I whisper back, but the words feel heavy, weighed down by all the emotions swirling inside me.

Gabriel’s arms tighten around me, his body a shield against the world, but I can feel the weight of his guilt, the tension radiating from him. His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, and I close my eyes, sinking deeper into his warmth, even though I know I shouldn’t. Not like this.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, his voice raw, vibrating through his chest. “I fucked up. You needed me, and I wasn’t there for you. But I’m going to fix this. I won’t let you down again, I swear.”

I pull back just enough to look up at him, the shadows of the streetlights casting lines across his face, making him look both softer and harder all at once. His honey-brown eyes search mine, desperate for something, and I know he’s looking for forgiveness, but it’s more than that. He needs me to trust him again. To believe he can protect me, even when everything feels out of control.

But trust? That’s not something you can fix with a few words and a desperate kiss.

“I’m not lying,” I say, my voice small, my chest tightening. “I’m just … tired, Gabriel. I’m really freaking tired.”

He lifts his hand, brushing a strand of hair from my face, the touch so gentle, so reverent, it makes my throat burn. “I know, baby. I know you are.” His voice drops lower, rougher. “Come home with me.”

I blink up at him, heart stuttering in my chest. “What?”

“Just for tonight,” he murmurs, his forehead pressing against mine again, his breath warm against my lips. “You’re exhausted, and I’m losing my fucking mind. I just need to know you’re okay. I need to keep you close. For my own sanity.”

I close my eyes, my resolve crumbling with every word he speaks. I should say no. I should push him away, tell him we need space, that this isn’t the answer. But my body betrays me, leaning into him, craving the safety his arms promise.

After everything that’s happened tonight, there’s nowhere else I’d feel safe. No one else I’d trust to keep me grounded.

“It’s a bad idea,” I whisper, the words barely audible as I rest my head back against his chest. His heart is still pounding, matching the frantic rhythm of my own.

“Then why does it feel like the only option?” he asks softly, his lips brushing my temple.

A shiver runs down my spine, and I nod, unable to argue with the truth in his words. Because it does feel like the only option. Even if it’s temporary. Even if I know we’re walking a dangerous line.

Gabriel’s the only one I want near me right now.

“Okay,” I whisper, almost to myself. “Just for tonight.”

His arms tighten, and I can feel the tension leave his body, like he was holding his breath, waiting for me to pull away. “Thank you.“ His voice is thick with relief.

Without another word, Gabriel takes my hand and leads me to the car. His touch is firm but gentle, his thumb brushing over my knuckles as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. Felix sits in the front seat, his gaze flicking between us as we slide into the back.

“Everything good?” Felix asks, his tone cautious, but filled with an unspoken understanding.

Gabriel nods, pulling me into his side the moment we’re both seated. “Yeah. We’re good.”

Felix doesn’t ask any more questions, just throws the car into drive and heads for the soccer house. I lean into Gabriel, letting his warmth seep into me, the steady rhythm of his breathing a balm to my frayed nerves. His arm stays wrapped around me the entire ride, his fingers tracing light patterns on my arm.

When we pull up to the house, Gabriel doesn’t waste a second. He opens the door and helps me out, his hand never leaving mine as he guides me inside. The familiar smell of him —cologne and something distinctly Gabriel —soothes me, keeps me from falling apart.

The house is quiet, the lights dim, and there’s an eerie sense of calm as we walk through the door. It feels surreal, like this moment isn’t supposed to exist. Like we’re suspended in time, just the two of us, trying to navigate through all the wreckage of tonight.

“You need anything? Water? Something to eat?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m okay.”

Julio and Atticus, with Deacon only a few steps behind them, step into the room having come from deeper within the house.

“Everything good?” Julio asks, taking in the three of us.

“All good,” Felix says, but some other form of silent communication passes between them.

“We’re going to head upstairs. We’ll talk more in the morning,” Gabriel tells them.

Julio frowns but doesn’t object as Gabriel tugs on my hand, encouraging me to follow him.

“Goodnight,” I tell the guys.

“Goodnight,” a chorus of voices responds.

“C’mon,” Gabriel murmurs, his voice soft, but insistent, as he leads me up the stairs and into his room. It’s dimly lit, the moonlight filtering through the blinds, casting soft shadows across the bed. His space is always so clean, so organized, and yet right now, it feels like the safest mess I could ever step into.

I sit on the edge of the bed, running my fingers through my hair, trying to shake off the weight of the day, but it clings to me like a second skin.

Gabriel crouches in front of me, his warm hands on my bare knees, his eyes searching mine with so much intensity it makes my chest ache. “You okay?”

“I will be,” I whisper. “I just … need a minute.”

He nods, his thumb brushing over my skin again, sending shivers racing up my spine. “Take all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.”

I believe him.

Seconds pass, turning into minutes, both of us too afraid to break the silence. Whatever this is, whatever moment of peace we’ve found together, it feels fragile, and I don’t want to be the one to shatter it.

“You know you can talk to me,” he murmurs.

“Do you want to talk about the wedding?” I counter.

His lips press into a thin line, and he shakes his head no.

“I don’t want to talk about tonight, either.”

“We need to,” he tells me.

“After you.”

His brows pull together, and his expression darkens. I can tell he doesn’t like my response.

“Tomorrow?”

I consider it. “Okay,” I tell him. “We can talk about all of the hard stuff tomorrow.”