From the Damage 1 - Opposites Attract Read online

  Ryder followed her outside and into the early autumn air. “Meagan, wait!” he called. “You’re too wasted to drive.”

  “I was gonna walk,” she said, stumbling in a way that made her think she wouldn’t be able to make it home. “It’s only a couple of miles.”

  “I can drive you if you want.”

  Meagan glanced at him hesitantly. “Why would you want to do that? You barely even know me.”

  Ryder shrugged, thrown off by the question. “This isn’t a safe part of town.

  Something bad could happen, and what kind of backup buddy would I be if I let that happen?”

  A serious look washed over her face as she scraped her teeth across her bottom lip. “Sure, I guess. And thanks.”

  They walked over to his car, a 1978 Camaro that he’d saved up for almost a year to buy.

  “So…you knew him?” Meagan asked after they’d driven in silence for about five minutes. “Uh, that Rivers guy?”

  “Yeah. Shane’s not a bad guy really. He’s just got a taste for the alcohol, and it tends to make him gutsy...and stupid.” Ryder reached for the glove box, and Meagan jumped, giving a small gasp. He eyed her curiously as he opened the glove box and pulled out a CD. He popped open the case and slid the CD into his stereo.

  Meagan laughed. “I’m not usually like this.”

  “Huh? You’re not usually fun to be around?”

  She chuckled. “Saving me from that jerk was fun for you?”

  Ryder grinned at her. “Oh yeah.”

  She glanced over at him, gasping again as she clutched his hand suddenly. “Oh my God. You’re that guy! The one I’ve heard about. Wait...what do they call you?”

  Trailing off, she nibbled on her lip as she thought for a minute. “Knight Ryder—that’s it! You go from party to party, breaking up fights and protecting the helpless.”

  “I’m pretty sure you just described Angel.”

  “I love that show,” she exclaimed, “but no. You’re him, aren’t you? Always the peacemaker.”

  “Guilty as charged,” he said with an exaggerated sigh.

  “Wow. I feel kind of star struck,” she said, giving his arm a playful shove, “being rescued by the Knight Ryder and all.”

  He felt his cheeks burn, and for once, he was grateful for his reputation. “Nah, it was nothin’. You didn’t need my help that much.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, it makes feel better about accepting a ride from a guy who I know has issues.”

  Ryder chuckled. “Ah. Well, don’t worry. My issues aren’t dangerous…anymore.

  What about you? Why are you in that support group?”

  Meagan shrugged. “For support.”

  Ryder laughed. “So, the lady shall remain mysterious.”

  She nodded. “Yep—wrapped inside a puzzle, wrapped inside a bitch.” Pointing to a road sign up ahead, she said, “Turn here.”

  Ryder turned left down the rural street. “Again with the hard on yourself.”

  “It’s what I’m best at,” she said. “My house is about five houses down on the right.”

  “Self-deprecation is what you’re best at?” Ryder asked as he counted the houses until five had passed. “Here?”

  She nodded, and Ryder pulled over in front of a big white house. “Not self-deprecation as much as self-awareness.” Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and scribbled something down.

  “Self-awareness,” Ryder said, musing on the word. “I like that.”

  Meagan handed him the note and gave him a small smile. “Thanks for the ride, Knight Ryder.”

  He laughed, flushing once again at the way she said his nickname. “Yeah. See you later.”

  Meagan climbed out of the car, and Ryder unfolded the blue slip of paper. In pink, curvy, glittery writing, she’d scrawled the seven numbers that would connect him to her phone. Ryder smiled, waiting till she was inside until he drove away.

  ≈≈≈

  That night, Gage went through the nightly routine of gently checking on Lizzie.

  He covered her up again since she always kicked the blanket away and then made sure the window was locked tight. On his way out the door, he flicked the small nightlight on.

  He rubbed a hand over his face and yawned as he dragged his weary, aching body around the rest of the tiny apartment to tidy up. Even though he knew the door was locked, he double-checked it.

  Desperate for sleep, he went to his bedroom. He cursed under his breath at the rumpled bed. He’d forgotten to wash the sheets after Shane slept on them. With an angry grunt, he yanked off the blankets and crawled onto the bed. He flipped the pillows over and then collapsed onto them and fell into a quick sleep, utterly exhausted.

  ≈≈≈

  Peyton raised the gun and aimed it right at Gage.

  He stopped in his tracks, his heart thumping so hard he was sure it’d explode. “You don’t have to do this—”

  “Shut up!”

  Lifting his hands into the air, he was afraid to breathe. “Whatever you’re going through, we can work it out. We can get you help.”

  The pain contorted her face as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. “I don’t want help,”

  she whimpered. “I just want it to end.”

  He took a small step forward and looked next to him, where Mark lay bleeding in a pool of crimson. The rest of the student hostages were cowered on one side of the room, watching as if they were witnessing some gory freak show—only they were a part of it.

  All Gage could think about was Lizzie. He needed to get home to her, to give her that stuffed animal he’d bought on a whim before school. He needed to hold her one more time...

  “Just get away, Gage! This isn’t your fight. You have too much to lose.”

  “So do you. Peyton, give me the gun.” He reached his hand out, pleading and praying she would give it to him and not shoot him. “Please.”

  She cocked the hammer. “Gage, I mean it! Get back!”

  “But I just...I can’t.” He took another, bigger, step forward, holding his breath. “We need to get you help.”

  Pop!

  A loud blast rumbled through the tension. ≈≈≈

  Gage shot out of bed and pressed a hand against his chest to slow his pounding heart. Wiping the sweat off his face with the palm of his hand, he leaned against the wall and let out a slow, shaky breath to calm his nerves.

  The shooting is in the past, he reminded himself. He’d gotten out. He’d given Lizzie the teddy bear. Why does it still haunt me so much? he wondered in anguish, tired of the same old nightmare time and time again.

  ≈≈≈

  After school the next day, Kelly walked into her house, dropped her backpack by the door, and headed to the kitchen where she’d heard her mother cooking. Her little brother was nowhere in sight, so she figured he was taking a nap. “Hey, Mom.”

  “Hi, Kelly.” Jodi gave her a smile as she tasted broth in the soup she was cooking. “How was school?”

  She shrugged.

  “And the support group?”

  Kelly sighed, annoyed, but her mom didn’t notice because she was too busy shaking some paprika and parsley into the soup, one seasoning jar in each hand.

  “Daphne’s kind of cool, I guess. She seems smart.”

  “I meant, did you make any progress?”

  “It was the first meeting, Mom.”

  Jodi shrugged. “Well, maybe when you get better, you can work things out with Alex.”

  Kelly rolled her eyes as she sat down on a barstool. She grabbed a slice of carrot from the pile of vegetables her mother was chopping.

  “You know, I saw Mr. Walker today,” her mom continued, and Kelly braced herself for the conversation to go on forever. Her parents were best friends with Alex’s parents, which made their breakup oh so shocking. “He said Alex is doing great on the team. It’s too bad you couldn’t keep your grades up. You’d still be a cheerleader, and maybe you guys would still be together. Y
ou think you’ll work it out?”

  Kelly groaned. “I don’t know, Mom. There are more important things in my life than Alex Walker.”

  “Of course, honey. You don’t have to get snippy.”

  “Well, I’m sick of talking about this,” she exclaimed, unable to stand it anymore.

  “Did it ever occur to you that our breakup was Alex’s fault too? Anyway, it’s really none of your business and even if it were, I’m your daughter. Shouldn’t you be on my side?”

  “Of course I’m on your side, honey. That’s why there’s no point in taking that kind of attitude and tone with me, young lady. I was just expressing an opinion.” She waved her hand toward the steps. “Now, go upstairs and do your homework. Dinner’ll be ready in thirty minutes. When you come back down, you better have a different attitude.”

  Kelly sighed and grabbed her book bag off the floor. Slinging it over her shoulder, she strode out of the room, mumbling a polite but disgruntled, “Yes, Mother.”

  Chapter Four—Need

  Everybody took their seats as Daphne stood in the middle of the circle and tried to fight the anxious feeling in the pit of her stomach. She wanted to be taken seriously.

  She wanted to help. But her supervisor, a grumpy old man who couldn’t care less about the problems of today’s youth, thought she was too young (although he’d used the term inexperienced) to handle such a big and difficult group. That was why he’d sent Brett to pop in on her and evaluate her progress every once in a while. But that’s okay, she reminded herself. I’ll prove him wrong the same way I’ve proven everybody else wrong who hasn’t believed in me. When the clock struck six, she pushed RECORD on her tape-recorder and pasted a smile on her face, hoping the teenagers didn’t see the butterflies in her stomach. “Good evening, everybody. I hope you all had a good week.”

  Ryder crossed one leg over the other, while Kelly picked imaginary lint off her sleeve.

  “At our last meeting, we talked a little bit about why you’re here. Today, I want to talk about what you hope to get out of group.” She slid into an available chair and looked next to her. “Meagan, what do you want most right now?”

  The ex-cheerleader twirled a strand of hair around her finger and refused to look up. “Justice.”

  Daphne nodded as questions sprang into her head. She jotted down Meagan’s answer and looked at Ryder. “What about you?”

  He fixed an icy stare on Gage. “Peace.”

  She wanted to ask why, but she reminded herself not to jump the gun. This wasn’t about finding answers to satisfy her own curiosity; it was about helping the kids, and that took patience. So, she wrote “peace” next to Ryder’s name. “Carmen?”

  “My mom.”

  Kay scraped a hand through her hair. “A little compassion would be nice.”

  On his turn, Gage rolled his eyes, and Daphne prepared herself to drag it out of him. She was surprised when she didn’t have to, because he softly said, “Freedom.”

  “Kelly?”

  “Forgiveness.”

  “What about you?” Kay spoke up, looking straight across the room at Daphne.

  “What do you want right now?”

  “Trust.” She twisted her lips into a nervous smile when the group turned to look at her. “I want you guys to trust me. I want you to feel safe here.”

  “I feel safe here,” Kelly said softly.

  “I never feel safe anywhere,” Ryder muttered. “Not anymore.”

  Gage shifted in his seat.

  Meagan pulled her knees up to her chest and rested her chin on them. “Neither do I.”

  “Fear is paralyzing.” Ryder stared at the fluorescent lights on the ceiling as he spoke. “It seeps into your body without warning and grabs you by the throat in a chokehold until you can’t even think about breathing.”

  Kay tapped her hands on the armrest. “Or trusting.”

  “Or walking.” Meagan stared at the circles on the carpet.

  “Guilt is the same way,” Kelly said softly as she gripped her hands together so tight her fingers paled. “It poisons your mind.”

  “Yeah, and it eats away at your soul until there’s nothing left,” Ryder said.

  Meagan broke the silence that fell over the group with a giggle. “Well, don’t we sound dark and depressing?”

  “Yeah.” Kay started laughing. “We sound like we’re in the I-wanna-slit-my-wrists-and-die club. Emo-R-Us.”

  Gage didn’t look away from the clock on the wall. “We are.”

  “You guys were just being honest,” Daphne said. “It’s a good thing to be in touch with your emotions.”

  “Bullshit.”

  Daphne turned to Gage. “What?”

  Finally looking away from the clock, he glared at her. “I said bullshit. It’s never a good thing to be in touch with your emotions. If you ask me, we should all get a lobotomy to take care of that little problem.”

  “And what makes you think that way, Gage?”

  He started laughing in mocking, loud, rumbling cackles. “Don’t pull that therapy shit with me. The only reason you’re asking is because you’re delusional enough to think you can save the world...and because they’re paying you to act like you give a shit.”

  “Don’t talk to her like that.” Meagan startled the rest of the group by speaking and even more by not backing down when Gage turned his glare on her. “At least she gives a damn, and that’s more than anybody can say about you.”

  Daphne felt the knots in her stomach unravel. She searched for something to say, but her mind came up blank.

  “Oh, you mean you’re not afraid to talk the way you’re afraid to walk?”

  Meagan’s mouth dropped open in a way that made Ryder instantly defensive.

  “Don’t use her words against her like that. This is therapy. It’s supposed to be safe.”

  “But I thought you didn’t feel safe anywhere.”

  Ryder jumped out of his seat, and Gage met him in the middle of the room. Both had their chests puffed out and their fists clenched, ready to rumble.

  “Okay, boys, I need both of you to sit down!”

  They ignored Daphne’s demand, each daring the other to throw the first punch with their glares and their constant nodding up of their chins in c’mon kind of gesture.

  “Guys, sit down!”

  Ryder’s head snapped to look at Daphne, and then he looked around at the rest of the group. He stepped back slowly until he fell into his chair. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling.

  “Now, have any of you been in a situation where you felt you weren’t in control?” Daphne looked around the group, taking in the reactions to see if she’d effectively redirected the conversation.

  Megan lowered her gaze to the carpet, while Gage glared harder at the clock.

  Kelly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Carmen started to stroke her left arm.

  “My entire life is out of control,” Carmen said. “One day, I’m just an average girl, and the next, my mom’s been killed in a car accident and I have to move in with my stupid sister.”

  “What’s that been like for you?” Daphne asked.

  “It’s turmoil,” she whispered. “I try to be nice to her, but I always end up yelling at her. All we ever do is fight.”

  “How old is she?”

  “Twenty-two.”

  “That’s a very young age to take on the huge responsibility of raising a teenager.

  I bet it makes you feel kind of like a burden, huh?”

  Carmen swallowed hard, crossing her arms over her chest as she slowly nodded.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, get over it,” Gage said suddenly.

  Everybody turned to gape at him, obviously shocked at how cruel he sounded.

  “I’m not trying to be an ass,” he said to Carmen. “I’m trying to help you out.

  People die, and your life is shredded when they do. It happens. The best you can do is swallow the pain and keep living, There’s no other choice.”


  “That’s a rather blunt way to put it,” Daphne said as she turned her attention to Carmen again, “but, in essence, Gage is right. When pain or loss knocks us down, we need to get up and keep going.”

  “I’ve tried.”

  “It sounds like your mom was nice at least,” Kay said as she tapped her fingernails against the arm rest. “You should focus on that. At least you had it. My mom acts like I’m a plague.”

  “So? Everybody’s parents suck.” Gage rolled his eyes. “You just have to get used to it.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like.” Kay ran a hand through her hair in frustration.

  “It’s like, any little screw-up, and she threatens to send me to boarding school.”

  “I know you guys can’t live your lives being afraid to do anything—afraid to breathe, afraid to leave, afraid to walk. God, grow a spine.”

  “You’re one to talk, Mr. Anger Management.”

  Gage laughed. “I don’t need anger management.”

  “No, you need some manners,” Kelly mumbled.

  Gage glanced at her, and she sank deeper into the chair.

  Once the meeting was over, Daphne sprinted after Gage, calling out his name.

  She saw his back stiffen at her voice, but he pretended not to hear her. “Gage, wait!”

  She reached out and touched his shoulder just as he stopped at his car.

  “What?” Turning, he scorched her skin with his fiery, impatient stare.

  “Every time somebody opens up in there, you shut them down. That needs to stop.”

  “You know what? Just because you say so, I’ll get right on that.”

  “I did some checking up on you.”

  He tapped his foot against the cement.

  “I talked to some old teachers, your boss, your probation officer. They all say the same thing. They tell me you’re a quiet kid, smart if you apply yourself, responsible, with a hint of temper. They even went as far as to say you shouldn’t have been prosecuted for what happened. You vandalized a police station and punched an officer?”

  He laughed bitterly. “Yep. I put my fist through one of their windows...and a guy’s face.”