Chapter 10 Maddison
MADDISON
River and I leave the lake and drive back to the city. We park his car in the same carport Finn used when he helped me escape Drew. Then River and I head out to the front entrance where an Uber will pick us up.
River has us go through the bottom floor of the building instead of going around outside, which means we have to walk through the main lobby where people are.
I immediately grow anxious at the sight of the domed cathedral ceiling, the sparkling chandelier, the shiny marble floor, and the gold splashes everywhere, including on peoples’ jewelry.
Everyone is glitzy with royalty, and I feel like trash.
I’m unsure if I’m being self-conscious, but I swear a group of women sitting on sofas near the windows at the front are staring at me.
They’re drinking tea, and it looks like they might be having a book club meeting since they’re all holding a book.
“Are you okay?” River asks as we cross the room, passing by the front desk.
A few people are standing behind it, dressed in suit-like uniforms. This place makes me think of a five-star hotel, but I can’t even confirm if it’s like one since I’ve never stepped foot in that type of place.
I wrap my arms around myself. “I’m fine.” My gaze sweeps the area, and I’m certain one of the female receptionists is glaring at me. “But I do feel out of place here.”
“You shouldn’t feel that way. You belong here as much as anyone else does,” he attempts to reassure me as he places a palm on the small of my back and inches closer to me.
I’m unsure why he does it—if it’s an instinctive move or intentional. Normally, I’d move away from him—I’m not some girl who needs protecting. But this place is making me all twitchy. It’s too polished, too shiny. Too fake.
By the time we exit through the doors and step into the cool night air, I appreciate the non-stuffy oxygen that enters my lungs.
River’s gaze flits to mine, question marks reflecting in his eyes.
“I’m good,” I assure him after I’ve taken another deep breath of wonderful stuffy-free air. “I think I was just holding my breath while we were in there.”
The edges of his lips tug downward. “You don’t have to feel uncomfortable around royals. They’re not better than you.”
“Oh, I know that.” I watch the cars on the street whizz by. “But they think they are, and that attitude can be a lot sometimes.” I glance at him from the corner of my eye.
His lips thin as he presses them together. “It can be a lot, even when you’re a royal,” he divulges. “I hate it, too—always being under the spotlight. Like that night I got arrested, paparazzi were waiting for Finn and me outside the jail.”
My lips part in shock. “What? Why?”
He stiffly shrugs while scuffing the tip of his boot against the cement. “It’s big news when the sons of one of the most wealthy and famous families in the city get arrested on northside.”
“Jesus,” I mumble. “So, your parents found out then?”
He nods, exhaling loudly. “Finn and I were in deep shit. Finn got his credit card taken away for a couple of weeks, though my father doesn’t realize he has cash stashed, so it didn’t amount to much.
Plus, Finn doesn’t react to getting a lecture.
He doesn’t give a shit about my father’s opinion. ” He stuffs his hands into his pockets.
“What about you?”
“I wish I didn’t.”
“But you do.”
“Sometimes.” The muscle in his jaw ticks. “It’s been bred into me since I was born.”
I face him. “Well, always being poor and at the bottom has been bred into me since the day I was born, and look where I am now. At the Royal Academy, hanging out with a prince.”
His gaze skates to me, the corners of his lips quirking as he struggles not to smile. “You know I’m not really a prince, right?”
I tap my fingers against my lip while purposefully eyeing him over. “I don’t know. You sure look like one.”
He shakes his head, but his smile breaks through.
I playfully nudge his shoulder. “I made you smile. I win.”
His smile fades as his gaze locks on me. “You did.”
Silence grasps the air, and his gaze drops to my mouth. For a moment, I think he might kiss me again. For a moment, I contemplate kissing him. But then a massive SUV with tinted windows rolls up to the curb and shatters … Well, whatever the hell that was between us.
The window rolls down, and a thirty-something-year-old driver asks, “River Averson?”
Instead of answering, River takes out his phone and glances at the screen. On it is a photo of the driver, only now he has a beard. But his eyes look the same.
“Yeah,” River tells the guy as he pockets his phone. Then he steps forward and holds the back door open for me. When I questioningly look at him, he explains, “I have to be careful. I’ve had a couple of instances where someone pretended to be my driver, and then I almost got taken.”
All I can do is gape at him before hoisting myself into the back seat. I recall all the times I felt in danger and all the precautionary measures I’ve had to take. I guess danger lurks on both sides of the city; one just masks it better.
The driver gave River a funny look when he told him where to take us but still proceeded to head in that direction without protesting.
If I were the guy, I’d consider backing out.
He’s in a fancy enough vehicle that he might get carjacked, and River is making him wait for us while we sneak into my house.
I’m worried that my mother will be home, and if I walk into the house with River, she’ll take one look at him and try to con him.
I don’t believe River will fall for it, but I don’t want to deal with it.
So, as we near the house, I decide on something.
I rotate in the seat so my knees are angled toward him. “I think I should just go inside alone.”
He shakes his head. “No way. I should go in with you.”
“I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I’d rather you not go in there.” I tuck my hands underneath my legs. “I can handle this. I promise.”
He eyeballs the dirty streets, the worn-out, boarded-up buildings lining the roads, and the groups of people loitering the area.
They all look rough; some are drinking, some are dealing drugs, and some are selling themselves.
It’s a rough life out here, and a part of me gets it—you do what you have to to survive.
It sucks, but trying to rise from the broken streets of poverty into a better world is hard and many fail.
I worry I will.
In fact, I know the odds are against me.
But I’m a fighter.
Always have been.
“I know you can handle it.” He returns his gaze to mine.
“You’re one of the toughest people I’ve ever met.
But that doesn’t mean you have to handle it alone.
” He inhales then exhales before reaching over and taking a hold of my hand.
This time, he does more than brush his fingers along my hand.
He threads his fingers through and holds my hand.
I should pull away—I know I should. I’m heading down a dangerous road that will only lead to heartbreak. But dammit, does his hand on mine feel so good.
Pathetically, I don’t pull away. I’ve never actually held a guy’s hand before. I’ve kissed a few here and there for fun, but nothing ever went further, except for the few times guys have attempted to force themselves on me.
River is so sweet it’s mind-boggling to me. And I like it. Too much. Because at the end of the day, he already belongs to someone, even if they both don’t want the arranged marriage.
I should let go of his hand.
I know I should.
And yet, I keep holding it the entire drive, even when my hand feels sweaty. How he doesn’t feel grossed out about that is beyond me. Then again, his hand is kind of nasty, too.
When we near my apartment, I scoot forward in the seat. “This is it up here on the corner,” I inform the driver. You should go around, though, and park out back. There are fewer people out there.” I pretend it’s for his benefit. Really, though, it’s for me.
“Um … okay.” Wariness floods his tone, but he still slows to a stop, flips on the blinker, and turns into the parking lot that’s in front of the complex.
Music is blasting from several apartments and it can be heard throughout the area.
The back section is relatively quiet, though, except for a few broken-down cars and some trash cans.
Trees dot the land behind it. On the other side of those are a few businesses, like a gas station and a grocery store.
I used to walk through those woods all the time when I was younger to buy food whenever we ran out.
I would take a thin, narrow trail that weaves through the trees.
It was terrifying to go down, even in broad daylight.
When the driver parks beside the trash cans, I mutter a, “Thanks,” then tell River, “I’ll be right back.”
He doesn’t release my hand when I scoot toward the door. “I …” He’s looking around the outside, at the dirtiness of everything. “I’ll go in with you.”
“River,” I start to protest with a trace of annoyance.
“Maddy,” he throws back. “I get that you can handle this, but I don’t feel good about letting you go out there by yourself. I don’t care if you’ve done it a million times—it’s not right for you to be wandering around in a place like this.”
“Maybe it just looks dangerous?” I challenge, full of shit.
“Maybe, but you’re also forgetting Finn and I were arrested on this side of town—I’ve been here before, and I know this place isn’t safe.”
“How many times have you been here?”
“I know what you’re trying to prove—that I haven’t been here enough to know how things work. And maybe I don’t, but do you believe it’s safe? Or are you just being tough Maddy? Because you don’t have to be right now. I can go with you, and you can feel safe. It doesn’t have to mean anything else.”