Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105815 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 529(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 353(@300wpm)
A few seconds pass.
“Did you touch him?” he growls.
“No. We said goodbye, and I gave him his pin.”
He breathes out slowly. “I see.”
Do you?
I don’t think River really gets how I feel.
Even now, I’m terrified of the strong emotions I’m experiencing.
From the moment I met him, something shifted in my heart—and never left.
“He isn’t the person I’m meant to be with.”
He looks away from me for a moment then comes back to me. “Okay.”
“It’s you, River, it’s you,” I say softly.
“Okay.”
“If you say okay one more time—”
He kisses me, ravaging my mouth, rough and hard. His lips are rough, his tongue stroking, sucking, and taking. His mouth slants over mine, slick and hot, and I groan, my hands snaking around his neck. His go under my skirt and pulls me up as my legs go around his waist. His lips, his scent, his strong arms, his every touch…it’s home, home, home.
Benji lays on the horn and we pull apart. River presses a kiss to my forehead. “It’s cold out here. Come on. Let’s find your grandma.”
By the time midnight arrives and we still haven’t found her, I’m biting my nails.
I look out the window as we pull up at Henning Park. “She mentioned coming here with Oscar,” I tell them.
Benji is still animal-sitting, so River and I bundle up and split up as we walk the park. The streetlights don’t illuminate the area well, so River pulls out two flashlights from a tool chest in the back of his truck. I head for the monkey bars to the right side while he goes left toward the hill we climbed last week. I call out June’s name and hear him doing the same.
A few minutes later, he shouts my name, and I take off running through the wet grass.
He’s next to a snack area. It’s a small building, obviously locked up, but there’s a bit of an overhang and a small form is huddled there, her head bent down as she clutches her knees to her chest.
Relief comes so swiftly I have to grasp my chest. “June,” I say breathlessly, kneeling down next to her as River takes a step back to give us room.
She’s missing her shoes, her beanie is gone, and she shivers in the cold air. Her pants are ripped at the knees, blood caked from a scrape. Even her gloves are gone. I take River’s jacket off and drape it over her shoulders.
“June, it’s me, Ana. I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”
I touch her shoulders, her arms, her hands, wincing at the chill.
Her head is still bent to her knees when she speaks. “They came to get me. They came and I had to fight back. I fell down.”
“I see that. I’m sorry for it.” Ignoring the cold, I sit on the cement sidewalk next to her. “I’m here now.”
“You aren’t alone.” She rises up and her eyes dart past me, squinting at River. Her teeth chatter from the cold. “Is that Bruce Willis?”
I squeeze her hand. “His agent said he was busy. Can you believe it? The nerve. Movie stars these days.”
“He’s probably on location,” she says as a lone tear eases down her face. “Oscar?”
I squeeze her shoulder. “In the truck. He misses you. Let me help you up to go see him.” She clings to my hands as I tug her up to standing. Her hair is tangled, and I brush my hand over it. “I want to look at your knees when we get in the truck. Did you hit your head? Does anything feel broken?”
She shakes her head. “No, just scraped up…” She leans back against the building and takes River in, giving him a once-over. “This the bad boy?”
“Yeah. He wants to help you too.”
“He isn’t going to try to put me in a shelter? People steal your stuff there. You wake up and your shoes are gone. And the last place had lice.”
“And they put tracking devices in your ears,” I add with a small smile.
She sniffs. “No, they don’t. That’s silly. I said that so you’d let it go.”
I huff out a laugh. “I told you there are private rooms at the shelter in Walker. Maybe—”
“Ana. I don’t like them.” She plucks at her baggy sweater and her throat bobs. “There was a shelter in Atlanta, a while back. It burned down and three people never got out.”
Chills ghost over me.
She sighs. “One of them was my son.”
My eyes well with tears and I fight to hold them in. My voice is strangled. “I’m so sorry, June.”
She wipes her nose with her hand. “He…he had learning issues since he was born. Not enough oxygen. He was forty, different, and all I had. He was asleep, and I went out to check on Oscar when it happened…” Her breath catches. “I couldn’t get to him.”