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I get out and shut the car door. After filling up the tank, I head into the store. A bell dings over my head as I step in. It only takes a minute or two for me to buy some snacks for us, but by the time I step outside, Elena’s not in the passenger seat. I see her across the street, in front of some homeless man who looked like he just crawled out of hell.
My heart speeds up, the pressure increasing when I spot the glinting of a knife from afar. The expression on the man’s face is nothing short of menacing. I walk over there fast, grabbing her wrist before she can hand the man some cash.
“Fucking hell, Elena!” I snap.
She struggles against my grip. “Let me go. What’s wrong with you?”
“Get in the car!”
Her green eyes flare with annoyance. “No. I’m just trying to help him,” she says, gesturing at the man still on the ground in front of us.
His expression is less menacing, more amused. She’s no longer a defenseless girl he can take advantage of because she’s alone. I fight the urge to punch him in the face.
“I’ll do it,” I say, aggravated. She won’t walk away if I don’t. I place the bag filled with the stuff I bought in her arms. “I’ll give him money, now head into the car.”
She lets out a huff before turning around and walking away. I turn to the man on the ground.
“I’m going to give you a hundred bucks,” I start, pulling out my wallet. I throw the money onto the ground in front of him. He scrambles for it, grabbing every dollar. “If I ever fucking hear that you’re responsible for harming anybody that’s kind enough to help you, I’ll find you. And I’ll make it hurt. Do you understand?”
The man’s not that old. I’d say late forties. He has a scruffy beard and dull blue eyes.
He nods once, visibly anxious. He gets to his feet and walks away on thin shaky legs with the money. Once he’s gone, I head back to the car. Elena’s already glaring at me from the passenger seat.
“Your macho protective bullshit is fucking annoying,” she states.
I ignore her, starting the car. I pull away from the gas station and we’re back on the road. We’re about five minutes away from her neighborhood. Good. This has been a hell of a night and I need some fucking peace and quiet.
“Answer me, Roman,” Elena states, refusing to let the issue go. “Does it make you feel good about yourself? Butting into situations that aren’t your fucking business?”
“He had a goddamn knife!” I yell. Tension rolls through me. I pull over onto the side of the road and cut the engine before looking at her, “Is this what you do in Boston? Approach random homeless people alone? Are you trying to get yourself killed?!”
She’s stunned for only a moment or two before her glare sharpens. “How was I supposed to know he had a knife?”
I laugh. It’s borderline hysterical. “That’s your excuse? Jesus, what the hell is wrong with you? There are rules. I know you think you’re doing things out of the goodness of your heart but even you can’t be stupid enough to think it’s a good idea to approach homeless men on your own.”
“I didn’t think—”
“That’s the thing,” I snap, cutting her off. “You never think.”
The look in her eyes as soon as I say the words makes me immediately want to apologize.
“Elena—”
“Fuck you, Roman. You’re an asshole,” she says quietly.
“I’m sorry,” I say, running a hand through my hair. “Fuck. You drive me crazy. I caught sight of the knife and I lost it, okay? I was terrified that you’d get hurt.”
Her gaze is soft as she looks at me. “You’re not supposed to care, Roman.”
“I think we’ve established the fact that I do.”
We’re both breathing heavily, chests heaving. When I look at her, our gazes connect and something icy slides down my spine. Elena doesn’t break eye contact. Her green eyes are piercing, mesmerizing. My throat dries and I swallow.
“Truth or dare, Roman,” she whispers.
“What?”
“Come on, truth or dare. I need to test something out.”
