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“She just tripped,” Crisis said then looped his arm around my waist, his fingers solid on my hip. “Let’s go.”
I’d never heard his tone so hard and abrupt before.
I caught a glimpse of Kite snagging another phone out of someone’s hand—Kevin’s. “No pictures. Jesus. Have some respect.” Kite leaned into the bathroom near the front door and I heard a splash as the phone hit water. Kevin started swearing and ran into the bathroom muttering “assholes.”
Kite didn’t even glance at Kevin or seem to care that he’d just ruined two phones. He went ahead of us and started the car. Dana jumped in the front with Kite, and as soon as her door shut, Crisis started talking.
Crisis didn’t open the door; instead, he gently leaned me against it and ran his hand over my head until he cupped the back of my neck. “Shield back in place I see,” he said as he watched me for a second. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“Good. Cause now I’m telling you that this shit fucking with your head is serious.”
He had no idea. No one did. I’d found a way to live and now I was finding a way to survive the memories. I just needed ordinary. If I had that, everything else would eventually disappear. It had to.
“Don’t look at me like I’m spurting bullshit.”
“You don’t know anything, Crisis.” I pulled out of this grip on my neck.
“Yeah, because you won’t talk to me. You won’t talk to anyone.” He argued back. “Ream’s tried to help. Emily. Kat. You refuse to see a therapist. I get that. But damn it, you need someone to trust or the shit that just went down is going to get worse.”
“I don’t need anyone.” I hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the bubble of anger was cracking in my chest.
He shook his head and sighed. Before I could stop him, he reached out and caressed the side of my face. “Yeah, you do, Haven. I’ve been trying for months to get you to see that.” His finger came under my chin and his thumb stroked back and forth softly. “I like you. I care about you.”
I tensed but kept my voice soft as I said, “I won’t have sex with you, Crisis.” If that’s where he was going with the liking me, I needed him to know that sleeping with him wasn’t an option for me.
His arm dropped to his side. “Don’t want to fuck a girl so damaged she can’t breathe without hurting.” He lowered his voice and it went all husky. “What I want is to help her learn to laugh again. And I want her trust.” He leaned to the side and opened the car door.
Why? Why would he want to help me? Crisis was all about attention. His music. His goal in life was having something about him go viral on Twitter.
But that was the Crisis everyone saw. After texting with him for months, I knew that there was far more to him. I knew he was really proud of a song he wrote for the band and he wanted to do more of that. I knew he had a list of things he wanted to do before he died. I hadn’t seen it, but he told me two of them: learn to make his mom’s spaghetti meat sauce and that led into another one which was ‘so he could teach his kid one day.’
And maybe that was when I truly knew that Crisis was way more than he let on, and as he looked at me, I saw the concern in his eyes. I heard it in his voice. I felt it in his arms.
Crisis had parts of him that the media never saw. But I did and that was why I said what I did to Kevin. It was just hard to trust when that piece of me was damaged. I lowered my head and for the first time, I reached out to him and placed my hand on his arm. “I know you care.”
And this was the Crisis I was getting to know. He didn’t take my words, my slight give in my armor, and push for more; instead, he nodded and opened the car door for me.
He waited for me to slide in, then shut the door and walked around the car to the other side. My stomach whirled as I watched him and it was a good whirl.
Kite chatted with Dana about the band that was on the radio and how they’d partied with them a number of months ago. Crisis and I remained quiet in the back, our hands next to one another on the seat. Close but not touching.
When we arrived at the farm, Kite helped Dana to the house as she stumbled and laughed, obviously having had one too many beers.
Crisis walked beside me up the path, the only sound that of our feet along the gravel and the slight rustle of the trees in the breeze. Normally, I’d shiver at the sound of the wind, but not now. Not with him next to me. He opened the screen door for me, but caught my arm before I entered.
I stopped.
“Tomorrow, nine o’clock.” My eyes narrowed with confusion and he smiled, the first time since we left the party. “First driving lesson. Be ready, Ice, and if you fail to show up, I’m coming for you.”
“Driving?” My heart raced and it wasn’t in fear, it was with excitement. The freedom that would come with being able to drive . . . more control over my life.
He let me go. “Yep. But when you’re with me, no gun.” He smirked. “I don’t need you shooting me when you get tired of me telling you what to do.” He was trying to make light of the gun scenario, so I gave him that and nodded. Then he went inside and disappeared upstairs. I heard his bedroom door shut then his music turned on.
I was going to learn how to drive. Crisis was going to teach me. I didn’t think he’d remember. I bit my lower lip to stop from smiling. There was a certain amount of exhilaration with getting my license because I’d been antagonized about it for years by Alexa, especially after the siphoning incident.
