“I doubt that.”
I can’t help myself, seeing my reflection in the stranger. “Why’s that?”
He shrugs, rolling up his sleeve to expose tanned arms flecked with pale hair and delicate veins bulging beneath the skin. “I’ve got quiet the reputation with your friend group.”
My stomach drops. “They’re notmyfriend group.” I hate admitting it to a stranger, but I have the feeling he understands me.
He nods. “Yeah, I see that.”
We stand in awkward silence, people milling around us as if we don’t exist for several moments. Finally, I move a fraction closer, deciding being with someone’s better than standing completely alone. “Why doesn’t Faith like you? She likes everyone.”
He smile droops again. “Misunderstanding.”
I narrow my eyes in his direction, not loving the answer. “About what?”
His navy blue eyes meet mine. “Who knows anymore. It’s been years, one thing after another. Everything’s just piled up, a mess she refuses to let me untangle.” He licks his lips. “But I will. I have to fix things. If not for her, then for—” The sentence dies on his tongue, his eyes flicking over my shoulder.
“Valentina?” I whirl, nearly stumbling over myself at the sound of my name. I’m met with a face that’s the exact replica of my father’s.
“Mateo.” My fingers bite into my arms as I try to keep from shaking.
His eyes quickly look me up and down, and then he looks over my shoulder. I take the moment to drink in the sight of him, checking for any signs that he’s different, or in danger,or misses me.
Anything to show he feels even the least bit lost the way I do.
Dressed in a flannel and overalls, with a goofy-looking straw hat covering his usually styled hair and a piece of straw tucked behind his ear, I know it’s only wishful thinking.
He looks different all right.He looks happy, healthy, content. All things opposite the way I used to make him look.
It’s another knife, one that hits far deeper than the others currently protruding from my pathetic heart.
Taking a step back to distance myself from the invisible pool of blood gathering around my feet, I flash my teeth at him, and his gaze snaps back to mine, eyes narrowing. “Who were you talking to?”
I glance over my shoulder to realize Nathan’s vanished. I contemplate telling Mateo, but some small voice tells me to keep it to myself. I understand being misunderstood—standing on the outside wanting in, but no one’s willing to open the door. You’re the villain—no trial, no jury, just fact.
I vow to get the answers from the only person who matters. “No one.”
His eyebrows draw together in a dark line, his gaze flicking down. “Jessica Rabbit, real original.”
“What the fuck are you supposed to be? Pathetic?”
He rolls his eyes, moving the straw from behind his ear to the corner of his mouth. “A farmer.”
My eyebrows pinch together, my mind unable to comprehend how truly ridiculous he looks, how he willingly came into public looking this way. “Why?”
“Because Dale’s a scarecrow.” My back snaps back into a straight line at his words.
I should’ve known.
What can I even say to that?
“Where’s McCrae?” There’s concern in his voice, and I bristle further. Does he really think I can’t take care of myself? Or is he more afraid for the people around me, without McCrae to protect them?
The way his eyes dart around, I’m guessing the later.
“With Faith,” I say;the where,I don’t know. Each passing second without them feels more and more like a betrayal. Not only was there a very real shooter after me only weeks ago, the hole in McCrae’s shoulder evidence of that, but they’re supposed to both be my friends. Or at least, Faith is, and McCrae’s…well, he’s my McCrae.
Mateo’s eyes narrow on me. “You’re kidding. McCrae has no business being around Faith—he’s going to ruin her.”
