Chapter 14
Kiera Emmerson
My first instinct is to run.
To stand up, make some excuse about needing to check on Skyler, grab my niece and get out of this house as fast as possible. To put distance between me and River Stone and his impossibly kind eyes and his question that’s sitting in the air between us like a live wire.
Who hurt you?
But I can’t run. Skyler is asleep in River’s guest room, and even if I could carry her without waking her, where would I go? Back to my tiny apartment above the bookstore where I’d lie awake all night replaying this moment, hating myself for being a coward?
Besides, something about the way River is looking at me right now makes it impossible to deflect with sarcasm or change the subject. His expression is so open, so genuinely concerned, that the walls I’ve spent months building feel like they’re made of paper instead of steel.
I take a shaky breath and look down at my hands. “It’s not a fun story.”
“I didn’t think it would be.” His voice is gentle. “But I’d like to hear it. If you’re willing to tell me.”
The Barbie dolls are scattered around us on the floor, their plastic smiles frozen in perpetual happiness. I pick up Princess Glitter and turn her over in my hands, focusing on the tiny details of her dress instead of River’s face.
“I had a boyfriend,” I start, and my voice sounds strange to my own ears. Distant. Like I’m talking about someone else’s life. “Back in my hometown. We dated for a while during my junior year.”
I stop. This is harder than I thought it would be. The words feel stuck in my throat, sharp and cutting.
River doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t push. Just sits there, patient and still, giving me all the time I need.
“He was popular. Funny. All the girls liked him, but he chose me.” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “I thought that meant something. Thought I was special.”
I trace Princess Glitter’s tiny crown with my finger. “He said all the right things. Told me he loved me. Told me I was different from other girls. Made me feel like I mattered.” My throat gets tight. “I believed him.”
The silence stretches. River hasn’t moved, hasn’t interrupted. He’s just listening, like this is the most important thing in the world.
“He kept pressuring me,” I continue quietly.
“To sleep with him. And I wasn’t ready, but he’d get upset, say that if I really loved him I would.
That everyone else was doing it. That I was making a big deal out of nothing.
” I set down the Barbie, my hands starting to shake.
“So eventually I... I did. Because I thought that’s what love was.
Giving someone what they wanted even when you weren’t sure. ”
I risk a glance at River. His jaw is tight, but his eyes are still gentle, still patient. Still waiting for me to continue.
“The next day he dumped me.” The words come out flat.
Matter-of-fact. Like I’m reciting a grocery list instead of describing the moment my world fell apart.
“Said it was fun but he was done. Then I found out—” My voice cracks.
“I found out there was a bet. Him and his friends. To see how many girls they could hook up with before graduation. Whoever got the most would win.”
I have to stop again because my throat is closing up and my eyes are burning. I will not cry. I will not break down over something that happened two years ago.
Except I feel River move. He scoots closer on the floor, and then his hand is on mine. Not grabbing, not demanding. Just there. Warm and steady and solid.
He squeezes gently. The touch breaks something open inside me, and suddenly the words are tumbling out faster.
“I was the conquest that won him the bet. Two hundred dollars, that’s what I was worth.
And everyone knew. The whole school found out within a day, and suddenly I was the stupid girl who fell for it.
” Tears are sliding down my cheeks now, and I can’t stop them.
“People would whisper when I walked by. Point and laugh.”
River’s grip on my hand tightens, his thumb stroking across my knuckles in slow, soothing circles.
“My mom found out.” I’m crying openly now, my voice breaking. “She told me I was just like Kiki, making the same mistakes. And my dad—” I choke on the words. “My dad just looked at me like I was something disgusting, and told me to pack my things.”
“Kiera,” River says, and there’s so much pain in his voice.
“My dad called me a harlot.” The word tastes like poison. “Said if I was going to act like one, I could do it on the streets. And they kicked me out. Just like that. No second chance, no forgiveness. Nothing.”
I’m fully sobbing now, the kind of ugly crying I haven’t let myself do in months. River reaches up with his free hand and gently wipes a tear from my cheek with his thumb.
I lean into his touch without thinking, closing my eyes. His palm is warm against my face, steady and real.
When I open my eyes, River’s jaw is clenched so tight I can see the muscle jumping. His eyes have gone dark, intense in a way I haven’t seen before.
“I want to find him,” he says, and his voice is rough with barely contained anger.
“I want to find that piece of—” He stops himself, takes a breath.
“I want to pound him into the pavement for what he did to you. The thought of anyone treating you like that, using you like that—” His hand tightens on mine.
“It makes me so angry I can barely see straight.”
Something inside me shifts at those words. Loosens. Because no one has ever been angry on my behalf before. No one fought for me. No one defended me.
But River is furious. For me. Because of what happened to me.
“When the rumor got out,” I whisper, “everyone blamed me. Said I should have seen it coming. That I was an idiot for falling for his lines. That I deserved what I got.” My voice breaks again.
“Even my parents. Especially my parents. They didn’t defend me or protect me or try to help. They just... threw me away.”
“That’s not—” River’s voice cracks. “Kiera, that’s not okay. None of that is okay.”
“I know.” The words come out as a sob. “But I didn’t have anywhere to go. I came here to find Kiki, but I was too ashamed to go to her right away. I saw her with Tobias and Skyler, and they looked so happy, so perfect, and I couldn’t—I couldn’t ruin that by showing up and—”
I can’t finish the sentence because I’m crying too hard. River doesn’t hesitate. He pulls me into his arms, and I don’t resist. I can’t. I’m too tired of being strong, too exhausted from holding everything together all the time. I curl up on his lap.
I cling to him, my fingers gripping his shirt, and he wraps his arms around me and just holds me. One hand strokes my hair, the other holds me secure against his chest, and he rocks us slowly back and forth while I fall apart.
“I broke into a church and slept in the basement,” I sob into his shirt.
“I dug through garbage cans for food. I was so hungry and so scared and so alone, and I—I haven’t dealt with any of it.
I just shoved it all down and pretended I was fine because I had to be fine.
I had to prove I could survive on my own. ”
“Oh, Kiera.” River’s voice is thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry you had to go through that alone.”
“I thought I deserved it,” I whisper. “Thought it was my punishment for being stupid enough to believe him. For trusting someone who didn’t deserve it.”
“No.” River pulls back just enough to look at me, his hands coming up to frame my face. His eyes are bright with unshed tears. “You didn’t deserve any of that. Not the bet, not the betrayal, not your parents kicking you out. None of it. Do you hear me?”
I nod, unable to speak, tears still streaming down my face.
“You trusted him,” he says fiercely. “You believed someone when they said they loved you. That doesn’t make you stupid or naive or deserving of what happened. It makes you human.”
He wipes my tears with his thumbs, so gentle it makes me want to cry harder.
“You’re not alone anymore,” he continues, his voice softer now. “You have Kiki. You have the Barrett family who care about you so much.”
Time slows as he stares at me. “And you have me.”
My breath catches. “River—”
“I care about you, Kiera.” The words come out raw and honest. “I care about you so much it scares me sometimes. And I’m so thankful that you trusted me enough to tell me this. To let me see this part of you.”
I’m staring at him, at the sincerity in his eyes, at the way he’s looking at me like I’m something cherished instead of something broken. He’s still holding my face in his hands, his thumbs still gently stroking my cheeks, and I feel safer in this moment than I have in years.
Safer than I’ve felt since before everything fell apart.
And suddenly I know what I want. What I need.
I lean forward and press my lips to his.
For half a second, River goes completely still. Like he can’t believe this is happening. Like he’s afraid if he moves, I’ll disappear.
Then his hands slide from my face to cradle the back of my head, and he kisses me back.
It’s gentle. Tender. Nothing like what I imagined kissing River Stone would be like. There’s no urgency or demand, just this overwhelming softness that makes my chest ache. He kisses me like I’m fragile, like I’m precious, like he’s afraid of pushing too hard or taking too much.
One of his hands moves to my waist, pulling me closer, and I go willingly. I thread my fingers through his hair, and he makes this small sound in the back of his throat that makes warmth spread through my entire body.
This is what a kiss should feel like. Safe and wanted and chosen. Not pressured or coerced or part of some game. Just two people who care about each other, sharing something real.
River breaks the kiss first, pulling back to look at me. We’re both breathing hard, and I can feel his heart pounding beneath my hand on his chest.
“Kiera,” he whispers.
I don’t say anything. Can’t say anything. I just stay there, getting lost in his eyes, breathing him in, letting myself feel this moment without overthinking it. And I don’t know if later I’ll regret this, all I know is I felt something, and I didn’t run away.
And that feels like a victory to me.