The Memory of You (Sanctuary Sound #1)(14)
The words formed a lump in her throat, so she coughed them up before they choked her. “I was on with Peyton. She’s been diagnosed with breast cancer.”
Her voice cracked open as those words, once spoken, cemented the reality she’d rather deny.
Ryan’s shoulders fell, and the tension tugging at his jaw released. Years ago, he would’ve wrapped her in one of his generous hugs. Instead, he rubbed his chin before scrubbing the back of his neck and then crossing his arms. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Are you?” She felt her nostrils flare and fought the stinging in her eyes. The antagonism brewing inside had less to do with Ryan than it did with the news itself, but she couldn’t argue with a diagnosis. She could argue with a man. “A few days ago you’d written her off as irredeemable, just like me. I would’ve guessed you think people like Peyton and me deserve this kind of punishment.”
His head tipped back as if she’d punched him in the nose. “My whole career is about fair prosecution and sentencing. I’m the last person to advocate capital punishment.”
Death. He’d said it in a roundabout way, but it still hit Steffi in the chest as hard as any swing from her mallet. His pinched expression suggested he wished he’d thought harder before blurting that out.
“She’s not going to die!” Steffi shouted, more at the sky than at Ryan, and then took a hard swing at the screen frame, sending it clattering onto the patio.
Ryan had rarely seen Steffi lose her shit. Between her mom’s death and her dad and brothers toughening her up, he used to tease her about the liquid steel in her veins. Seeing her in a fragile state threw him, although he should’ve realized Peyton’s diagnosis would bring back agonizing memories of her mother’s cancer. “Peyton’s a fighter. Her family has the resources to get the best doctors and treatment. She’ll survive. I’m sure of it.”
“Then why’d you say what you said?” she demanded, her voice bleak.
He shrugged, suddenly thirsty as hell. “Seems the only way I know how to talk to you now is to argue. Sorry.”
They stood a few feet apart, speechless. His breath burned inside his chest as he fought his old inclination to comfort her.
Steffi tossed the mallet on the grass and bent over to drag the screen off the patio.
Unable to think of anything else to say, but unsure of whether to leave her alone in this state, Ryan made himself useful and lifted the other side to help her carry it off the porch. “Will you be okay?”
“Yes.” She swiped some of the hairs off her face that had pulled free from her ponytail. “Thanks.”
Her one-word replies didn’t surprise him. “Okay. Guess I’ll see you later.”
He turned to go inside, but before he reached the door, she asked, “How do you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Defend criminals. Set them free so they can commit more crimes, hurt more people.” Her voice sounded hoarse.
“To make sure everyone—not just wealthy people—gets a fair shot at justice.”
“If someone doesn’t want to be arrested, they shouldn’t commit a crime.” She affected a self-righteous expression, then frowned and muttered, “It’d be my luck that you’d end up defending those jerks who jumped me.”
“What?” She’d been attacked? And why did that thought sucker punch him in the gut? “Who jumped you?”
She bent over and dry heaved, her gaze turning unfocused. Her body quivered like it might crumple at any second—like she was there but not there.
“Steffi, you okay?” When she didn’t answer, he crossed to her just in time to catch her before she collapsed. “Hey. Hey now.”
He held on to her, waiting for her to regain her balance. Meanwhile, holding her in his arms opened the door to a thousand memories. The fresh summer scent of her skin, the warmth, the silky texture of her hair on his neck—all assaulted his senses. For years, holding her had been as natural as breathing, so maybe that explained why they stood there, frozen in a sort of silent semihug, neither one quite sure what to do next.
Steffi cleared her throat and eased away first. Of course she did. “I’m sorry I snapped at Emmy. I’ll apologize.”
Ryan waved his hands, still warm from the heat of her, like tumbled sheets after a lover leaves the bed. “I’ll talk to her about respecting when people are on the phone and tell her to quit pestering you while you work.”
“Look, I don’t mind her, Ryan. She’s funny, and feisty.”
“She can be, on a good day.” He chuckled, as he often did when talking about Emmy. It was weird to laugh about her with Steffi—a woman he’d once thought would be the mother of his children.
“I’m sure all the change is hard on her. I get why you want to be careful about who she gets close to. But if ‘helping’ me makes her feel productive and happy, isn’t that a good thing? I won’t become her BFF or make her any promises.”
He tilted his head. “Why do you even care? Wouldn’t it be easier if she stayed out of your way?”
Steffi rolled her eyes in a way that suggested she was disappointed he hadn’t put it together on his own. “She’s basically lost her mom. There’s no changing that fact, but if I can help fill in the gap until Val comes to her senses, I’m happy to do it.”