The Replay (Boys of Richland #3)

12. Gabriel

gabriel

. . .

I’m holding on by a thread, frustration simmering just beneath the surface, as the reality of the situation slips further out of my control.

Mr. Ayala leaves, promising to schedule an appointment with Cecilia and her father soon so they can discuss the particulars of the plea agreement should she decide to move forward, and fuck, it seems like she does.

I bite my tongue and brace myself for her words as Cecilia shows him the door. She waves him goodbye, closes the door, and slumps against it.

“Not really the way I saw today going,” she mutters.

Taking a deep breath, I set my frustration aside and remind myself why I’m here. We were going out. I had everything planned. No way in hell am I going to let this new revelation throw a wrench in my plans.

We’re going to have ups and downs. Disagreements. But part of being in a relationship is working through disagreements like this. I take another deep breath. I just gotta be calm and collected so we can talk through this.

“Why did you decide to meet with Holt’s mom?” I ask, keeping my tone even.

Cecilia chews on her bottom lip. “I didn’t exactly decide to meet with her … it err … it wasn’t really planned,” she says.

“What is that supposed to mean?” My voice tightens despite my best efforts.

She rubs the back of her neck and glances at me. “Can we just ... go out? If we start talking about this now, you're going to get mad, and I really want us to have a good day.”

I pause, exhaling through my nose. “I’m not going to get mad.” The way she looks at me says otherwise, and it stings, but I push it down. “I swear. I just ... need to understand. Keeping me in the dark like this, it's messing with my head. Help a guy out because I’m low-key spiraling here, babe.”

Her shoulders relax a little, her expression softening. “You promise?”

“I promise.” I sigh. “Just talk to me.”

“And you’ll let me finish my story. No interruptions and no freaking out.”

I nod.

“Okay.” She takes my hand and pulls me upstairs, like she needs the comfort of familiar spaces to say everything she needs to. She sits on the bed, her back against the headboard, tapping the space beside her. I join her, wrapping my arm around her as she leans into me, and I steel myself for whatever’s coming.

“After Felix dropped me off, I went for a walk and?—”

She spends the next ten minutes telling me what happened, and true to my word, I don’t interrupt her. Not once. Where I fuck up, however, is that I am absolutely freaking the fuck out and it is taking every ounce of my control to keep that to shit inside my own head because What. The. Fuck?

When she finishes, I can barely breathe.

“So, that’s sorta everything,” she says quietly, almost like she’s waiting for me to blow up.

I nod, even though my chest is tight with emotions I can’t fully unravel. “Mmhmm.” I don’t trust myself to speak right now. I’m doing everything I can to rein my temper in. And it’s not like I’m pissed with Cecilia. She’s the victim in all this. But fuck if I can help it, because despite knowing that, I’m seeing fucking red.

“What are you thinking?” she asks softly, shifting against me.

I pull her closer, pressing a kiss to the top of her head to keep myself calm. “I’m not really thinking about anything,” I lie. Truth is, I’m thinking about a million things, and none of them feel good.

She glances up at me, searching my face, trying to read what’s going on inside my head. “Are you sure? Because you feel ... tense.”

I force out a laugh but it’s strained. “Yeah, just ... processing.” Trying not to lose my shit, I don’t add.

Her fingers trace lazy patterns on my arm, and it’s comforting in a way that makes the frustration even harder to deal with. I want to protect her, to make all this shit go away, but I can’t. Not when she’s considering letting the guy who ruined her life walk away with just a few years behind bars.

“And you’re not mad?”

I shake my head.

I wish I could give her more than that right now, but I’m still working through the fact that she was fucking kidnapped by Holt’s psychotic mother and that she’s even entertaining the idea of a plea deal. Five years? It’s a slap on the wrist for what that asshole did to her.

“How do you feel about the deal?” I ask, my voice tight.

At the end of it all, that's really what matters. I want what’s best for Cecilia, and I don’t want her manipulated into agreeing to something she doesn’t want. But if this is what she wants … what she really wants … then who am I to object?

She shrugs, eyes dropping to the space between us. “I don’t know ... It feels like it’s the only way to make sure Gregory and Parker don’t get away scot-free. I … I don’t think I’m okay with that.”

In her shoes, I know I wouldn’t be. It’s just … fuck. There is no clear-cut path here.

“What if he gets out early? What if he’s back before you’re ready?”

“I’ll never be ready,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “But at least this way, I’ll have time to make a plan. I can finish school, get away from Richland if I want to. I’ll have time to rebuild my life without having to look over my shoulder.”

Her words gut me. I hate that she feels like she has to make this choice. I hate that I can’t do anything but watch as she tries to piece herself back together. But I can’t argue with her logic. She’s trying to find peace in a situation that offers none.

I stay quiet for a beat, just holding her, letting her presence ground me. I promised her I wouldn’t freak out. So I won’t. For her sake, I’ll keep it together.

“I hate that you’re going through this,” I finally say, my voice rough. “I hate that I couldn’t protect you from any of it. And I’m trying to understand, I really am ... but part of me wishes you wouldn’t consider a deal. Part of me wants to ask you to push forward. To see the trial through and let the chips fall where they may, but,” I take a deep breath. “You have to do what’s best for you, and no matter what, I’ll be here to support you.”

“Thank you,” she whispers, her fingers tightening around mine. “I know you want to protect me, and I love that about you, but ... I think this is what I need to move on.”

Love? Did she mean to say that? Does saying she loves that about me mean she loves me ? Like she’s in love with me or maybe falling in love with me?

No.

I’m getting ahead of myself here, but fuck. I like the sound of that.

I pull back just enough to see her face, but she’s avoiding my gaze now, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. I don’t ask her to explain herself or to repeat what she said, even though my heart is hammering in my chest at the thought of hearing those words from her again. Instead, I kiss the top of her head, letting the moment settle.

“Okay,” I say softly. “If this is what you need ... then I’ll support your decisions. But you have to promise me something.”

She looks up at me, her brows drawn in confusion. “What?”

“You have to let me in from now on. No more hiding things, no more making decisions like this on your own. We’re in this together, Cecilia. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself. I know we agreed to slow, but slow doesn’t mean solo. Alright?”

Her eyes soften, and she nods slowly. “Okay.”

“Good.” I tighten my arms around her, pressing my cheek to her hair. “Because I’m not going anywhere, no matter what happens. You and me? We’re a team now. Got it?”

She blinks up at me, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Okay.”

I know this isn’t over and I know I should probably call the police. Report Austin’s mom for abduction or something, but I’ll let Mr. Ayala figure out how he wants to handle that mess.

After a few minutes, Cecilia shifts in my arms, looking up at me with a teasing smile. “So ... weren’t we supposed to go somewhere? Or did I manage to derail all your plans?”

I chuckle, the tension finally easing from my shoulders. “Nice try, but you didn’t derail shit. We’ve got a date to head out to.”

Her eyes brighten, and I can’t help but smile. That’s my girl.

“Where are we going?” she asks, slipping off the bed.

“It’s a surprise.”