I lift a shoulder as I place my hands in front of the vent. “I’m sure there is—people don’t just start dealing for fun. There’s always a reason. My father did it because it was a source of money. Plus, it’s all he knew. That’s not why Noah does it, but I’m sure there’s a reason.”
He drags his fingers through his damp hair. “Maybe.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I’m going to go get Noah, but after I drop you off at the academy.”
“No,” I protest firmly, but my frail voice makes me sound weak at best. “They want me, River. That’s the entire point of holding him hostage.”
“Maybe, but I also know that money can persuade people to change their minds.” He carries my gaze. “This isn’t on you. This is on my stepbrother. Whatever the reason he’s dealing, he still made the choice to do it. You were just trying to help him out.”
“But I …” I trail off as he cups my face between his hands.
“I know you have this thing with feeling in debt, but money means nothing to me. You do. And it’s not worth you going down there and handing yourself over to this Aiden guy so he can give you to Drew when I can just buy him off.”
In the back of my mind, I’m aware he’s right. But another voice is screaming at me not to get into debt with a royal, even if he’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. I want to fight him on this and try to find an alternative solution. But, in the end, exhaustion presses down on me, and all I do is nod and whisper, “Okay.”
The tension in his shoulders unwinds as he nods then finishes pulling onto the road.
I mean to ask him what his plan is. I mean to say I’ll pay him back for helping me.
I mean to say a lot of things, but the moment I rest my head against the seat, exhaustion consumes me, and I end up falling asleep.
“Maddy, wake up,” River’s beautiful voice whispers through my thoughts.
My head lulls to the side, and I roll my eyes open. He’s leaning over me, his dark eyes are filled with worry, and rainfall can be heard from somewhere.
“You with me, baby?” he asks, brushing strands of my hair out of my eyes.
I bob my head up and down. “I think so … Where are we?” I peer around and realize I’m still in his car, but we’re no longer moving and River is standing beside the passenger side with the door open.
“We’re at the academy.” He crouches down so we’re at eye level. “I can carry you in if you need me to.”
I shake my head and force myself to sit up. “No way am I about to look weak after what those shitheads did to me.”
The muscles in his jaw tick. “I don’t want to force you to talk about what happened, but I really hope you will.”
Summoning a breath, I lean forward. “I don’t mind talking about it, but maybe after you get Noah away from Aiden.”
He gives an agreeing nod while placing his hands on my arms to steady me. Then he helps me out of the car, ensuring I don’t bump my head. When I’m standing, he keeps one hand on my back and uses his other to close the door and lock the car. Then we make our way toward the stairs that lead to the academy's entrance.
It’s late, and darkness is blanketing everything except for a few dots of light here and there. The ground is covered in puddles that my boots splash in as I take heavy steps. I lean into River more than I’d like, but every part of my body feels heavy and achy.
I barely register where we’re at until we enter the building and see a few people wandering around. By the stares I get, I’m certain I look like a mess.
“Can I take you to my room?” River asks as he guides me down the hallway with his arm around me, his gaze sweeping across the corridor. “I want to make sure you’re safe for now.”
Again, I’m too exhausted and mildly delirious to care.
“Sure.” I slip my arms around his midsection and press against him, seeking both warmth and comfort.
A shaky breath fumbles from his lips, and his body stiffens. Confused, I start to move back, but he presses me closer.
“You just surprised me. That’s all,” he explains without me having to say anything aloud.
It’s almost as if he can read my mind. Or maybe he gets me. The latter is way more terrifying than the first.
We make the rest of the journey to his dorm in silence. When we reach the door, he stops in front of it and utters, “It’s weird with you being so quiet.” He continues to bear most of my weight as he retrieves his phone and scans the code to unlock the door.
“You say that like I’m a total chatterbox,” I joke lamely and in a feeble voice.
“Not a chatterbox. But you’re definitely a good conversationalist.” He pushes the door open. “It’s one of the things I like most about you—that you’re easy to talk to.” He steers me inside then kicks the door shut.
