Chapter 15 Maddison #2
Once he’s finished, a smile materializes on his lips as he looks at me again. “I have one more thing.” He sticks his hand into the bag and pulls out a chocolate muffin.
I scowl at him. “I said no more buying me food.”
“It’s healthy, and it’ll help you run better.” He hands me the muffin.
I stare down at it like it’s the devil. Maybe it is. Maybe falling for him is my first step toward plummeting to a hellish end. I should step back—run. I’m good at it. Instead, I take a bite of the muffin.
“You need to stop with the gifts and giving me food,” I insist around a mouthful of chocolatey goodness.
“Okay.” But the way he says it reveals he probably won’t.
I shake my head, but before I can argue, he rises to his feet. “We should go get our practice in because there’s a meeting later for people who want to join the cross-country team.”
“What? How did I not know about this?”
“Did you sign up for the newsletter?”
“No. But I will now.” I stand up, stuffing another chunk of muffin into my mouth. “I’ll hurry and get changed.”
He leaves then, appearing more upbeat than when he first wandered in. I make a grand effort to convince myself his shift in behavior has nothing to do with me agreeing to fake date him. But it did coincide with the agreement.
I hurry and get dressed in shorts and a tank top, then pull my hair into a ponytail. I pick up my phone but pause to look at the watch. Do I really need my phone if I have this? Probably not, so I abandon it, slip on my sneakers, and endeavor into the living room, where River is waiting for me.
He’s sitting at the kitchen table with a water bottle in front of him. He has his phone out, and his arms are resting on his legs as he drags his thumb along the screen. He doesn’t notice me entering the room so I pad over to him as softly as I can and tap him on the shoulder.
He startles so badly he drops his phone onto the floor. “Shit,” he curses his wide eyes zeroing in on me.
I slap my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to scare you that badly.”
He leans over to collect his phone then turns it over to inspect the screen. “Just sort of badly, huh?” he jokes.
“Basically.” I lower my hand from my mouth. “Please tell me the screen didn’t crack.”
“Nah, it’s good.” He holds it up for me to see. “I have a pretty good cover on it that softens the impact.”
“Mine would’ve broken.” I bend over to retie one of my undone laces.
When I straighten, his gaze is skating up and down my legs, as if he’s checking me out. He’s clearly attracted to me and vice versa. Hopefully, that won’t complicate this fake dating thing.
“Are you ready to get this show on the road?” I ask as he rises to his feet.
“Yep.” He grabs the water bottle.
We start toward the door, silence encasing us.
When he reaches the door, he grabs the doorknob, but then withdraws and faces me.
“The moment we walk out of here together, the rumors will fly.” He tucks the water bottle under his arm. “So, I want to double-check that you’re all in for this?”
No, but I’ve had to do worse to protect myself.
“Are you?” I counter. “Because you can still back out.”
With his gaze locked on mine, he lowers his water bottle to carry it at his side then offers me his free hand. His answer, I guess.
I open and flex my hand before placing it in his. He offers me one of his small, pretty smiles that gets my pulse racing then opens the door and we step out into the wild.
We’ve held hands before, but that was different because it was just him and me. Now, as we walk down the corridor dotted with people here and there, we’re the center of attention. Heads turn. People gape. A few women glare at me.
“Good hell,” I mutter under my breath as River and I approach the exit doors. “I knew there’d be staring, but this is so intense.”
“It’ll get better once we get outside.” He reassures me with a gentle hand squeeze.
I latch on to him, threading our fingers together, which seems even more intimate. I may be holding my breath, and that’s confirmed the instant we step outside and I breathe in the crisp fall air.
“Ah, emptiness,” I state at the sight of the mostly vacant quad.
“Yeah, that was a lot,” River agrees, still grasping my hand as he leads me across the grass, and toward the gate in front of the track, where we always start our running sessions.
My attention roams to the spot of grass in the center of the field where we saw the society running around in cloaks while carrying torches and tormenting some poor pledge.
“You good?” he asks, sketching his thumb along the back of my hand.
I nod, dragging my gaze off the field and to him. “I was just thinking about last night. It was like straight out of a horror movie, and … I just … Are you sure you want to join that? It’s creepy.”
He releases my hand and sets his water bottle down on the grass. “I know what I’m getting into. The society is something I’ve heard about since I was a kid. Because of my name, I should have some power in it, so I can protect myself from having to do things that are …”
“Terrible,” I offer. “Because from everything I’ve heard and seen, it sounds awful. And you’ll be stuck in it, like a cult.”
He’s mildly amused. “It’s not like a cult. I’m not getting brainwashed into their ideologies. I’m joining simply to make sure they leave you alone. Plus, I’ll know what they’re up to, so if they decide to go after, let’s say Lily, I’ll know and can stop it.”
“Finn would already know that since he’s in it.”
“I know, but we’ll be more in the loop with both of us working it.”
He’s reaching, but his mind is set—that much I can tell.
The wind picks up then, blowing strands of his hair away from his forehead. Clouds are rolling in, and thunder is booming in the distance, a warning that a storm is about to come. To add to the eeriness, lightning flashes from the trees …
Wait …
“River,” I murmur under my breath.
“Hmm …” He’s distracted, lost in thought.
“Look over there.” I discreetly nod my head toward where I saw the flash. “Something’s flashing.”
“What?” He looks over to where I nodded at the exact moment a light sharply flashes from the trees. “Crap.” His fingers encompass my arm, and he hurriedly steers me toward the bleachers.
“What’re you doing?” My sneakers kick up dirt as we duck underneath the benches.
“It’s probably the paparazzi,” he mumbles, edginess radiating off him like the lightning dancing across the sky.
The air smells like rain and is buzzing with electricity, a warning of how badly the storm could be.
I gape at him. “On school grounds?”
“It’s been known to happen.” He releases my arm and lowers his head against a metal beam. “Dammit.”
“Is it really that bad that they saw you with me?” I question, my tone biting with irritation.
He bobs his head up and down then lifts his head to look at me. “It’s not because I don’t want to be seen with you. But if they can figure out who you are, they’ll dig into your past.”
“So?” I exasperatedly throw my hands into the air. “What’re they going to do? Plaster all over their headlines that I’m the northside trash that got arrested? I don’t care, but clearly, you do.”
He swiftly shakes his head as he inches toward me. “They’ll do more than that. And if there’s something more to this necklace, they’ll figure it out.”
I fight a sigh. “River, I’m not from royal blood. And even if there was a tiny chance I was, who cares?”
Fear consumes his expression. “Maddy, this bloodline is allegedly deceased. The probability of it completely dying out on its own is low.”
I’m not following him. “How else would it die out?” A thought hits. “Wait—you think someone killed off this Everfords’ bloodline?”
He doesn’t immediately respond, but his silence says enough.
“No, there’s no way.” I shake my head in denial. “That’s like murder.”
“People get away with murder,” he stresses. “Especially in the royal world. Think about Grey and what you said about him once you started looking into his cliental.”
For a lightning bolt of a second, fear pours through me. But I quickly douse the feelings.
“I’m not worried. I’m not a royal,” I insist, knowing I have to be right.
How could I? All I’ve ever known is poverty.
If I was, I was adopted, which I look too much like my mother for that.
The other alternative is one of my parents had an affair with a royal, and if they did, we wouldn’t be poor because my parents are the kind of people who’d use that info as blackmail.
Rain begins to shower down from the sky and splatter against the ground.
“Are we going to run in this?” I change the subject. “Or use the treadmills?”
River stares at me, clearly wanting to say more but decides against it.
“Since it’s lightning, let’s use the treadmills,” he answers.
I’m uncertain if he’s being truthful or if this is his way of keeping me away from the paparazzi. Whether for his sake or mine, I’m not entirely certain.