Page 120 of Credence


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He steps closer, “Would you rather be used than never thought of at all?”

“Would you rather be never thought of at all or used?” I throw back.

Even now, I’m not sure. At least his mother knows he exists and can put on a show of love, even if it’s fake.

But then…at least my parents didn’t lie to me. They didn’t toy with me or jerk me around. I always knew where I stood.

Who had it worse? Him or me?

“Try the shirt on before we leave,” Noah says.

I blink at the sudden change in subject.

He steps closer, a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there a moment ago as he backs me up farther into the corner.

“I don’t want it too tight,” he explains.

He hovers, his body an inch from mine as he looks down at me.

What? Here? My eyes flash to the store around us.

“Noah…”

“I’m really glad you’re here,” he whispers, cutting me off. “I’m glad you came back.”

“Why do you want me here so much?”

“Why not?”

I study his eyes. “Because when you leave, I won’t be wherever you go.”

He falls silent, but his gaze doesn’t leave mine. He wants to leave here so badly, and he will. Eventually.

Eventually, I’ll leave, too. He doesn’t need me. He needs a life raft.

Looking around and not seeing anyone around us, I shield myself between him and the corner as I pull off his old T-shirt I’m wearing and hand it to him.

Refitting my cap, I slip my arms through the new one, his eyes on me making my skin tingle as I avoid his gaze.

My bra covers more than a bikini, and I’m still in my jeans. Overall, I’m much more dressed than I was at the lake all those weeks ago when they took me fishing.

But with my hair hanging in two scraggly braids, a baseball hat, and dirt under my fingernails for the first time in my life, I’ve never felt this pretty.

How he looks at me…

How Jake looks at me…

How Kaleb refuses to look at me, but I know he’s aware of my every move when we’re in the same room.

The skin of my breasts, only half covered in my hot pink bra, burns with fire under Noah’s gaze, and I pull the shirt on over my head, feeling Noah’s hands brush my arms as he reaches up to help pull it down over my body.

I fix my hat again, his fingers still gripping the hem below my hips.

I’m afraid to meet his eyes but I can feel the heat rolling off him.

“The local guys don’t talk to you,” he orders in a raspy voice. “They don’t touch you tonight. Do you understand?”

I nod, still not meeting his gaze. My heart pumps so hard it hurts, but my stomach is flipping like I’m riding a roller coaster.

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