Page 25 of Ricochet

Should have guessed that if he was hiding in a church. What did she know about him, anyway? Every time she saw him, a new facet revealed itself. Last weekend, he’d had a baby in his arms, but it wasn’t just that. It was how she could see from far away on the dance floor, how he talked to the little girl, showing her things,and pointing. Adelia wondered if her life would have been different if anyone had done that for her or Javier.

And now, here he was, praying, meditating, or perhaps, just hiding. She rarely caught a glimpse of what they did except when Ryder and Victoria elaborated on occasion, but intense might be a safe way to describe it. Maybe Adelia had interrupted his detoxing.

“It’s okay,” he said quietly,and his chin dropped, not as it had before, but in a way that seemed painfully sad.

She hovered by the edge of the pew. “Are you…” She bit her lip. “Talking to God?”

He glanced up at the front of the church like he hadn’t noticed where he was. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You’re hurting?”

Colin tilted his head toward her. “Yeah, I am.”

Adelia turned to face the front of the church. Shedidn’t know what denomination it was and knew it didn’t matter. If he needed that to heal his hurt, she’d pray alongside him. If he didn’t or couldn’t believe, she’d still sit, still hope, still whatever it was he was doing. “Was there a problem at work?”

He laughed quietly, tipping back his head and rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, maybe.”

She sat down, leaving a few persons-worth of space betweenthem. “What happened?”

Colin inhaled deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “My dad died.”

She didn’t see that coming. “He worked where you did?”

“He lived for my job.” Colin shrugged. “And maybe I…”

He didn’t finish.

“God.” He shook his head. “I feel like an asshole.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He gestured toward her.

“Oh.” Adelia half-laughed. “Because my biological father was awful.”

“Fromwhat I’ve heard, awful is being kind.”

Adelia lifted a shoulder. “Doesn’t mean I can’t empathize.”

He nodded but went back to silent mode. She rubbed her hand over the coarse upholstery of the pew. “But I’ll let you have your time alone.”

His hand covered hers, catching her off guard. “Could you just sit?”

“Ah, sure. Let me put out the last of these.” She quietly slipped her hand from hisand left the pew, finishing what she needed to and double-checking her list before returning to sit in Colin’s row.

“I talked to my mom,” he said. “I offered to come home, but they’re not home, can’t even tell me where they really are.”

“Oh.” Adelia wasn’t sure what to make of that.

“But she said Dad loved to talk to me about work because I loved to talk to him about it.”

She watched his eyesbrim, biting her lip.

“And fuckin’ hell, I hated to talk about work.” He paused. “I only talked about it because he wanted to. It aggravated the hell out of me.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened again them, staring ahead. “Always pushing me. Asking. Questioning. Knowing and advising. But the screwed-up thing? He only talked it because that’s what he thought I needed from him.”

The tears he wouldn’t cry spilled down her cheeks. “You did talk to him, and he passed away wanting to be close to his son.”

Colin turned. “But think about if we’d just been real.” He looked away. “Could’ve been closer.”

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