Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129131 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 646(@200wpm)___ 517(@250wpm)___ 430(@300wpm)
He turns and starts walking again, and this time, I don’t try to stop him. Because my sunshine’s gone, replaced with the gray, gloomy rain of tears down my cheeks.
Chapter 24
Noah
The knock at my door doesn’t surprise me.
Neither does who’s on the other side of it when I open up.
I’ve been waiting for this. For him.
I take a steadying breath, focusing my mind. And then I clench my jaw and tighten my abs before I open the door just in case he throws a cheap sucker punch with no warning.
River is standing in the hallway, his arms crossed over his chest and feet spread wide, bouncer style. His eyes are ice, and there’s a muscle popping in his jaw. He’s wearing workout clothes, so either he changed into things he doesn’t mind getting stained with my blood or he was at the gym when Riley called him.
He’s trying to make himself look as big and scary as possible.
I’m scared of a lot of things. But I’m not scared of him.
“You going to hit me?” I ask River.
“Maybe.” He shrugs like he hasn’t quite decided what to do, but he’s here, and I know how this goes. We’ve done this before, twice now, over Riley. When we were not much more than kids, at dinner recently, and now tonight. Maybe the third time’s the charm and I’ll finally quit fucking up.
Doubt it.
“Why maybe?” I feel like pushing my luck. Since storming away from Riley and getting in my car, I’ve been feeling dangerous. Self-destructive. Maybe I want to get hit. Maybe I want to hit River so he doesn’t have a choice. He’ll come back at me, I know he will, and then I can replace all this hurt in my chest with pain in my joints and face. I’ll take bruises and blood over heartache any day.
“Because I want to hear your side of things, and you can’t talk with a broken fucking jaw,” River growls. He pushes past me, not waiting for an invitation, and struts into my apartment.
I can’t fight him now, not when he has his back to me. He sits on my couch, making himself at home. Dammit. I can’t fight him sitting down either.
I’m not going to get the fight I’m spoiling for. At least not yet.
“Sit down. Tell me,” River demands, pointing at the chair.
I want to refuse. If I can’t fight, I want to pace around the room and get this fury and confusion out. At a minimum, I need that.
But I also need to figure out what the hell happened. I didn’t go into that conversation with Riley thinking it was going to turn into some blow-up fight. I expected it to be a good thing for us both. I need to understand, and maybe River can help with that.
River, for better or worse, is my person, the only one who knows the way my head processes and my heart beats. Arielle knows me too, but not like my best friend. I’ve protected her from so much her whole life, and though she’s grown, I can’t start laying my problems at her feet. So River is it for me.
Resigned, I sit in the damn chair. River’s brow lifts in victory.
Running my fingers through my hair, I sigh. “She called you?”
River nods, his eyes tight and his teeth grinding together. “I was working out when she called. Took me fifteen minutes to figure out what the fuck she was trying to say because she was sobbing so hard. Even then, it barely made any sense. Something about her brand, and sponsors, and you and Life Corp? All I got for sure is that you walked away, left her standing on the sidewalk alone.”
It’s like a kick in the balls, and my head drops as I start nodding.
Walking away . . . the one thing I promised I’d never do because it’s all too familiar.
“Natalie! Get in here,” Dad yells as his palm hits the kitchen table. I can’t see him from the living room, but I know that thundering boom of anger in his voice and recognize the hollow sound the cheap table makes as it bounces on the tile floor.
And Mom’s rushing footsteps? All too familiar.
I know what’s coming. We all do—the yelling and screaming, the tears and pleas for understanding.
I gather up Arielle and a couple of toys. “Come on, it’s a pretty day. Let’s go out front and play.”
“I don’t want to go outside. I’m hungry,” Arielle whines.
I look to the kitchen, knowing that there is nothing in this world that could make me go in there right now. I grab a tiny bag of trail mix from my school backpack instead, glad I didn’t eat it yesterday. “Here, you can eat this outside. And if you want, we can sneak the squirrels a few peanuts.” It’s the only hope I have of getting her out happily.