And here was me thinking this part of town wasn’t the worst.
“Are you sure? We don’t mind, we’ve got time,” I say, putting my hand on her arm and regretting it instantly when she winces. “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine,” she responds too quickly, but I get it. I’ve been her.
“Do you want to take my number for the police report?” I ask, pulling my phone out before she can say no.
Silence stretches between us as I watch a feast of emotion run riot on her face.
And before she says anything, I already know she’s not going to report this. Which, again, I understand. I just hope she has a decent circle to lean on rather than struggling alone.
Her tight smile reappears on her face, that mask of hers firmly back in place. “Sure. Here’s my card. Send me a text with your details and I’m sure they’ll be in touch once I’ve reported it.”
Her words are cold, but I don’t hold it against her. I put a hand back to keep Sawyer quiet when I feel him bristle behind me. Apparently, he doesn’t get her being so cold. I can’t imagine any of them can, but they haven’t been her.
They haven’t lived this life.
I have.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I ask again, a little more firm because she really should get checked out. She nods, some of the coldness falling away.
“Just a little shaken up. But I’ll be fine, I promise.”
With an awkward wave, she thanks us again and walks away, and I can’t help the twist in my stomach that something terrible is going to happen to her if she doesn’t report tonight.
“Well, that was an interesting end to the day,” Sawyer says, his laugh breaking some of the tension. Then he winces, as if realizing what he said. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“It’s fine,” I tell him, trying not to smile. “You didn’t mean to be an insensitive dick about a girl getting attacked.”
“I swear I didn’t,” he stresses, and I kiss his cheek.
“I know.” I turn to face the others and notice Travis’s face of thunder.
“What the hell were you thinking? You could have gotten yourself killed running down that alley like that!” he chastises—and there it is as predicted—running a hand through his dark hair. It’s almost like he cares.
“But I didn’t, and we helped her. It seems like it was worth it to me,” I say with a shrug. “Now, are we going to get food? I’m starving.”
I don’t wait for them to answer me, I just turn and head in the direction we were going before, knowing that I definitely haven’t heard the end of it when Travis’s voice sounds behind me. “Briar, for fuck’s sake…”
CHAPTEREIGHTEEN
“You sure it’s okay for me to do this?” I ask Asher for like the fifteenth time.
He laughs at me, pinching the bridge of his nose before putting his glasses back on. “Yes, Briar. You can add stuff to the house. You’re staying there often enough, but also, I want to see you more even when you’re not there, so add whatever the fuck you want if it means you can come back more.”
Since I’ve been spending so much time at the house, he wanted to add some touches of comfort... Which I’ve decided mostly consists of making sure there is real food in the fridge that isn’t leftover take out and some actual hot chocolate. Except, I still kind of feel like I’m overstepping.
We walk through Target—which is hilarious because I’m convinced Asher has never stepped foot in a Target in hislife—him pushing my cart, while Iuhmandarghover every single thing I kind of want.
But he keeps saying it’s fine, and I’m getting a little better at using the money Chase made available to me—especially after a phone call from my mom telling me he was offended I had barely touched the allowance set up for me, which is apparently a thing.
I stare dreamily at the different syrups that are available, and decide to splurge. I grab a peppermint, because duh, and a cherry one, dropping them in the cart before adding marshmallows, whipped cream, and chocolate curls, along with a cute little tray to make everything look pretty on and jars for storage.
Apparently, today I’m really embracing my basic bitch self.
Once I grab the few things I want, we browse, because I’ve always said you don’t come to Target knowing what you want, Target tells you what you need. So obviously I get things to make s’mores too, because ever since I saw the fire pit out in their backyard, I’ve been craving them.
When we reach the fall decorations, I swear my heart about stops.