So, as we near the house, I decide on something.
I rotate in the seat so my knees are angled toward him. “I think I should just go inside alone.”
He shakes his head. “No way. I should go in with you.”
“I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’d rather you not go in there.” I tuck my hands underneath my legs. “I can handle this. I promise.”
He eyeballs the dirty streets, the worn-out, boarded-up buildings lining the roads, and the groups of people loitering the area. They all look rough; some are drinking, some are dealing drugs, and some are selling themselves. It’s a rough life out here, and a part of me gets it—you do what you have to to survive. It sucks, but trying to rise from the broken streets of poverty into a better world is hard and many fail.
I worry I will.
In fact, I know the odds are against me.
But I’m a fighter.
Always have been.
“I know you can handle it.” He returns his gaze to mine. “You’re one of the toughest people I’ve ever met. But that doesn’t mean you have to handle it alone.” He inhales then exhales before reaching over and taking a hold of my hand. This time, he does more than brush his fingers along my hand. He threads his fingers through and holds my hand.
I should pull away—I know I should. I’m heading down a dangerous road that will only lead to heartbreak. But dammit, does his hand on mine feel so good.
Pathetically, I don’t pull away. I’ve never actually held a guy’s hand before. I’ve kissed a few here and there for fun, but nothing ever went further, except for the few times guys have attempted to force themselves on me.
River is so sweet it’s mind-boggling to me. And I like it. Too much. Because at the end of the day, he already belongs to someone, even if they both don’t want the arranged marriage.
I should let go of his hand.
I know I should.
And yet, I keep holding it the entire drive, even when my hand feels sweaty. How he doesn’t feel grossed out about that is beyond me. Then again, his hand is kind of nasty, too.
When we near my apartment, I scoot forward in the seat. “This is it up here on the corner,” I inform the driver. You should go around, though, and park out back. There are fewer people out there.” I pretend it’s for his benefit. Really, though, it’s for me.
“Um … okay.” Wariness floods his tone, but he still slows to a stop, flips on the blinker, and turns into the parking lot that’s in front of the complex.
Music is blasting from several apartments and it can be heard throughout the area. The back section is relatively quiet, though, except for a few broken-down cars and some trash cans. Trees dot the land behind it. On the other side of those are a few businesses, like a gas station and a grocery store. I used to walk through those woods all the time when I was younger to buy food whenever we ran out. I would take a thin, narrow trail that weaves through the trees. It was terrifying to go down, even in broad daylight.
When the driver parks beside the trash cans, I mutter a, “Thanks,” then tell River, “I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t release my hand when I scoot toward the door. “I …” He’s looking around the outside, at the dirtiness of everything. “I’ll go in with you.”
“River,” I start to protest with a trace of annoyance.
“Maddy,” he throws back. “I get that you can handle this, but I don’t feel good about letting you go out there by yourself. I don’t care if you’ve done it a million times—it’s not right for you to be wandering around in a place like this.”
“Maybe it just looks dangerous?” I challenge, full of shit.
“Maybe, but you’re also forgetting Finn and I were arrested on this side of town—I’ve been here before, and I know this place isn’t safe.”
“How many times have you been here?”
“I know what you’re trying to prove—that I haven’t been here enough to know how things work. And maybe I don’t, but do you believe it’s safe? Or are you just being tough Maddy? Because you don’t have to be right now. I can go with you, and you can feel safe. It doesn’t have to mean anything else.”
I slowly blink as his words register. He called me out on my bullshit. And he’s one hundred percent right. But that doesn’t make it any easier to agree. I’ve always been a loner, doing things on my own. It’s how I survive. Because trusting people has nevergotten me anything—ever. Even my aunt, the one person whom I’ve trusted in this world, took off. Sure, she needed to go live her life, but she didn’t need to go all MIA on me.
“Okay,” I agree, detecting the slightest drop of tension evaporating from his shoulders. “But we might be sneaking in through a window, depending on if my mother is there.”
He nods. “I know how to sneak in and out of places.”
