“Though for real,” Kane adds. “If you could learn how to make this, think of the money we’d save. It’d be so convenient.” I find myself laughing with them.
Is this what it feels like to not be afraid? How long’s it been since I wasn’t afraid of something, somebody? I honestly can’t remember, and I guess that’s because there’s never been such a time. I’ve always had to worry, to keep one eye open, and be on my guard. Even when I was a kid. I might as well have not had a childhood. I tell them about it as we finish up dessert and feel lighter than I can remember ever feeling as I slide out of the booth.
Even with so much lasagna and tiramisu in me. “We keep this up, and you’ll have to roll me out of here. Maybe it’s better I don’t know the secret recipe, after all.”
“Hey, Payton!”
The sound of my name being called by a girl brings me up short the second we step out onto the sidewalk. It’s dark now, chilly, but the icy gripping my heart at the sight of a girl from the dance studio has nothing to do with the weather.
“Oh, hey, Heather.” I force a smile as she approaches. She glances at the guys, and her eyes widen, but she’s either smart enough or too scared to say anything. It’s easy to forget how scary they look, especially when they glare at people they don’t know.
“Haven’t seen you around the studio for a while.” The dance studio. My heart’s about ready to freeze into a solid block of ice.
“Ah, yeah…” I choke on my words, saying a silent prayer that she is just going to leave now.
“So what’s up?” she asks, trying to keep her eyes on me.
“I couldn’t afford the fees,” I offer, and I know how weak it sounds, but it’s the truth. Not the whole truth, maybe, but enough of it.
“Oh, yeah, they are a bit unreasonable,” she lies. The fees are not bad. I just don’t have any extra money at all. “Did you hear about Matthew?”
If Cash and Kane weren’t here, silently offering me protection, I might crumble on the spot. As it is, I still have a hard time keeping my voice from shaking. “No, why? Is he okay?”
“That’s just it.” She lifts a shoulder. “Nobody knows. It’s like he vanished. He hasn’t been to the studio in a few days, and nobody’s heard from him.”
“Maybe he went on vacation and forgot to let anybody know?” Yeah, that’s a realistic excuse, isn’t it? “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”
“I guess so.” She shrugs again. “It was good to see you. Don’t be a stranger!” I’m shaking by the time she’s continued on with her back to us, and Cash has to put an arm around me for support as they lead me to the car.
What’s wrong with me? There’s a question I’ve asked myself a lot lately, but there’s another reason for it this time. Here I am, laughing and joking and eating when I killed a man two nights ago. Accidentally, yes, and in the process of trying to save myself. But still. That doesn’t change the fact that he’s dead.
And I did it to him.
The tension in the car tells me I’m not the only one whose mood shifted, and I’m glad neither of the guys says anything for a while. I don’t want empty condolences right now, and I don’t need to be reminded that Matthew got what he deserved. Only an idiot jumps in front of somebody’s car the way he did. He might as well have asked me to hit him.
Is that my actual opinion, though, or is it Kane speaking through me?
“Can you two honestly protect me?” My voice rings out in the otherwise silent car. “I mean, really. She’s not going to be the last person who asks about me never showing my face at the studio again. Somebody’s bound to—”
“Nobody’s bound to do anything.” Kane’s voice holds that dangerous edge again, the one I heard when we first met. “You have nothing to worry about.”
I look to Cash, whose jaw is tight enough to crack walnuts. He gives a short nod, eyes on the road. “We’ll take care of you. Nobody will get close to you. I swear it.”
And I believe him. Whether that’s because I want to believe him or because he’s convincing, it doesn’t matter. I feel my chest loosening, and I can breathe again. Things don’t seem so hopeless anymore. That’s enough.