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As we walked off the makeshift battlefield, an image of Riley being carried away from me, crying and screaming, seared itself into my brain, right alongside the image of that asshole's arm around her. That one came with the realization that, if I was serious about letting her go, I’d have to figure out a way to be okay with her being with some other guy. The thought tore a hole straight through my fucking chest. On what fucking planet would I ever be okay with that? Based on my reaction tonight, it sure as shit wasn’t this one.
And I had zero ideas about what the fuck that meant for me. For us.
Thirty-One
Riley
My body tensed at the sound of tires grinding over asphalt. I twisted my head to peer through the window. Trepidation hung over me like a black cloud. Reno’s furious, blood-stained face emerged from the passenger side door and my heart clenched. Swivelling back to front, my eyes touched briefly on Liss' concerned ones before I let them drop to my lap. They zoned in on my clasped hands, on the mud caked fingers rubbing over each other anxiously.
I’d fucked up.
I’d drank way too much, got talking to a Dalton guy, and saw an opportunity to escape reality for a minute. I’d just wanted a break, from the grief, the sadness, from the constant struggle and hurting, all the things that seemed to be weighing down on me, growing heavier by the day. I’d wanted carefree, easy. I’d wanted to stop feeling like I was butting my head against a brick wall. By the time Craig Mateland had slowed to a crawl and stuck his head out of the driver’s side window, whistling low between pursed lips as I made my way to Liss' place on wobbly legs, I’d already had a nice buzz going on. Thanks to the half bottle of my mom’s cheap vodka I’d downed while getting dressed. On an empty stomach.
I could try to blame my shitty choices on impaired judgement. But there before me was a guy who had zero problems. Every single thing about him highlighted that fact. His fancy car and preppy clothes, carefree extra white smile and easy laugh. Light, fluffy, flirty. It had drawn me in like a firefly to something bright and shiny. I’d wanted that. For one night. Not him… that. I’d wanted to forget all the crap. He’d offered a ride and reached across to push open the passenger door. Next thing I knew, I’d sank my ass down onto the plush leather of the seat and we’d sped down the highway to the West side of Richmond. Alarm bells had sounded, a whiny little voice had piped up with a warning, trying to ruin my fun. I’d blanked them both, ignored it all. I knew what was goddamn best for me. People kept making decisions about my life without asking me what I wanted. So, I’d taken matters into my own hands.
God knew how many drinks later, edging toward fall down drunk, I’d found my mind consumed by one thing: Reno. My attempt to escape had backfired spectacularly. Thoughts of him had plagued me like a demon. My mind had replayed the way his eyes always darted past mine instead of looking into them now. The way he avoided touching me, sitting too close or even talking to me. How he didn’t smile at me anymore. It had just gone... poof. His smirk. God, even the smirk, the one that used to drive me insane, had vanished. I’d pay anything to see the smirk now. I missed it; I missed him. So damn much my heart felt like it was shrinking, slowly draining of vitality and shrivelling up like a prune inside me.
And then Liss had started blowing up my phone, wondering where the hell I was. I guess I’d answered. And then I guess she’d called Reno, or Leon, or someone. Then, somehow, Reno had appeared, like a figment of my imagination, as if my brain had conjured him up. My tiny deflated heart had inflated so rapidly it had swelled against my rib cage, banging frantically as it soared into overdrive. God, my reaction to seeing him there, like a mirage in the desert. I was fucking elated. Happy enough to burst.
Then I’d remembered. He didn’t want me anymore. He didn’t want me bulldozing my way into his life, helping him through his grief, supporting him. He wanted me gone. So, there I fucking was. Except, so was he. And Leon. And then...
My eyes squeezed shut against the memory, my dirty fingertips going to my temples and pressing hard, but I saw it all. Reno’s body going down, multiple guys beating on him with their fists and feet. Biting my lip until I tasted blood, I battled to dispel the images from my head as my pulse thundered under my skin. I couldn’t unsee it. I couldn’t stop seeing it. I already knew he was okay, but he could have been seriously hurt. And Leon, Mack, and Danny. That was on me. My poor choices, my selfishness, my goddamned self-pity.
God! What the fuck had I hoped to achieve?
The door to Leon’s trailer squeaked on its hinges. Dropping my hands from the sides of my head without looking up, I inhaled uneasily, my throat rough and swollen. The result of a combination of raw emotion and twenty minutes of screaming at Jason to find out if Reno was okay on the drive back.
“Nice to see you’re all in one piece.” That was Liss. Standing by the counter diagonally opposite my position on the couch.
Leon moved through the door, then Reno. I could hear the others outside, what sounded like a short boom of laughter erupted, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. They all sounded fine. That didn’t assuage my guilt.
“Aww see, I knew you cared. It’s just so damn hard to tell when you keep it buried right down under that stinking attitude of yours.”
Liss scoffed. “Let me rephrase then, nice to see you’re all in one piece... except for you, Leon. You could stand to take a few hard hits to the head, couldn’t hurt anything up there, might even fix some stuff. And you know,” she mused, finger tapping her chin, her gaze narrowed accusingly, “the rest of these guys look like they actually took part, got their hands dirty, yet you’re looking remarkably unscathed. What did you do... hide behind them?”
Leon tutted. “You know I could walk onto Daltons’ field blindfolded with one arm tied behind my back, and still hand every one of those fucking boat-shoe-wearing motherfuckers their asses.”
“Wow. Do you hear yourself when you say this shit? Does it sound different in your head? Like what is it you’re hearing in that tiny little brain? Does it sound all gangsta or something? Because that shit really doesn’t suit you.”
Leon’s head tilted, hands on his hips. “Underestimate me at your peril, Alissa.”
“My peril? What even is that?”
“It means—”
“I know what it means, dipshit. I meant, who says shit like that? You know what, actually? I don’t care.”
“You say that, but when there’s trouble, who do you call?”
“Ghostbusters?” Liss deadpanned.
I felt a smile pull at my lips, then immediately wiped it off my face.
“Oh, she’s a fucking comedian now. I ain’t buying it, sweetheart. You needed muscle?” I saw him flex exaggeratedly out of the corner of my eye. “You called me. But hey, no worries, I’ll keep my gangsta ass out of it next time you wander onto enemy territory drunk off your ass, tryna get yourself fucking gang raped or some shit—”
Leon broke off abruptly and his eyes darted to me. I flinched, feeling the impact of his words. He'd aimed it at Liss, but we all knew why she’d wound up on Baker's field, and it wasn’t because she was the idiot in the room. Silence descended like a lead weight.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Ri.”
