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“Then don’t,” I shot, making his eyes widen. I was just tired of his fucking chivalry and shit, his meddling. I opened the door. “I’m fine.”
“December…”
His hand on my arm, I ripped it away.
He put his up. “I just don’t think this feels right.”
“I told you. I’m fine—”
“You don’t live here,” he rushed, immediately making my lips clamp tight. He wrestled with curls. “At least I don’t think you do. It seems like you don’t. Like you don’t live anywhere really.”
I said nothing, my heart racing, and he lowered his hand.
“You carry a shit-ton of stuff with you everywhere.” He tossed a hand to the bag at my feet, sighing. “Then there’s that conversation you were having in the bathroom…”
“You were spying on me?” Heated now, livid. “That was private.”
“I know. I know and I’m sorry, but I’m concerned. You’re obviously on your own and Myron… Myron caught you sleeping at the library the other day.”
My body shook, my lips quivering open. “I left. I didn’t stay.”
“No. Yes. I know, but that’s not the point—”
“The point, Ramses, is that you need to mind your own goddamn business and stay the hell out of mine.”
“December.”
Getting my bag, I opened the door, basically shutting it in his face. I pointed at him through glass. “Go. Go and get the fuck out of here. I don’t need you or your help.”
I pushed off the door and when he started to follow me down the street with his car I turned, flipping him off.
He stopped then, his hands on the wheel. He didn’t move, just… stared at me, judging me like he did that first day. “I want to help,” he mouthed through the windshield, but I didn’t want his help.
I pointed again. “Then go.”
He sat there with that, stark still, but eventually, he raised his hands. He put the car in gear with what appeared to be a sigh, pulling off from the side of the road and making a U-turn. His sleek Mercedes cruised down the street, and I closed my eyes.
Could you be nastier to him?
Knowing that he had just wanted to help, I put palms to my forehead and walked away. I had no idea how at all I’d deal with that at work or even if I had a job anymore.
Myron knows I slept there…
I kept messing up, doing stupid things, and I fought tears, trying to figure out how the fuck I was going to get to the shelter from wherever I was at. Pulling out my cell phone, I decided to figure that latter part out, and my heart sank to the depths even more. I was far enough away that I wouldn’t be able to walk there before the shelter’s doors closed for the night. They had a strict “no-entrance” policy after a certain hour, and I definitely wasn’t going to make it.
Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, I decided to pony up the money for a ride share, thinking it’d be worth it when I started walking down the street.
Especially when a car came out of nowhere.
It went slow down the street, the lights off and in my periphery. Rather than stare at it and the driver, I cut through the alley, probably not the best idea, but when I pushed into the shadows the car kept driving on, a dark SUV.
You’re frickin’ paranoid, girl.
And a little buzzed. Not to mention emotional. My head woozy, I decided to continue down the alley to the other street, almost crashing into someone the moment I found sidewalk.
The man’s eyes widened, a couple men drinking beneath a streetlamp, but the one to the right I recognized.
He recognized me too, coming forward with a bottle poking out of a brown bag, and the moment he realized where from, he pointed at me. “You’re the bitch who stole from my store.”
