“Okay.” She reached her arms out, her eyes still closed. “Carry me. I can’t get my legs to work.”
I shouldn’t have wanted to laugh at her. I should have been angry that she'd gotten herself into this state. Livid that she’d come to this bar. Raging that they served her. But I was none of those things, especially when she cracked open her eyes and stared at me. Her light-brown eyes looked almost gold in this light, and they drew me in, threatening not to let me go.
There was always something so intense when Aria stared at me fully. Almost like she was seeing through all my bullshit and staring at the roots that made me who I was.
I shook my head and hooked my arms under her legs and against her back. The silky smooth skin of her back greeted my palm, and my stomach dropped. I shouldn’t have pressed my fingers deeper into her skin, I shouldn’t have been trying to memorize how soft it was, but I was doing both of those things, and nothing could stop me.
Aria rested her head on my shoulder, her breaths flowing across my neck, and I stumbled a little as I stood. My body shouldn’t have been reacting this way to a drunk woman—girl. She was just a girl. She was seventeen, and almost like a sister to me.
But I couldn’t deny the way my body buzzed when I was around her. I couldn’t deny how much I craved to see her and hear her gentle, calming voice. Maybe it was the couple of beers I’d had? Maybe they’d affected me more than I’d thought. If that was the case, then there was no way I was going to be driving home.
I walked out of the club with Aria pressed against me and held my arm out at the edge of the sidewalk. A cab pulled up not three seconds later, and I pushed us into the back. I had no idea what I was going to do or where I was going to go, but the thought of taking her home and getting her into trouble didn’t appeal to me.
I shot off my address to the cab driver, my mind made up. There wasn’t any harm in her being there. It was only one night. I’d look after her, make sure she didn’t puke her guts up, and then take her home in the morning. My dad had taught me how to treat the people we cared about, and there was no doubt I cared about Aria. She’d been there when I’d gotten shot, and I’d been there the day everything in her life changed.
“He’s gone,” she whispered, tears rolling down her face. She was so small—smaller than any other eight-year-old I knew. Her pale skin and bright red hair were such a contrast that it almost looked fake, but no one could deny the absolute heartbreak showcased in her eyes.
“It’s okay, Aria.” I held my arms open for her, and she came willingly. The waiting room was full of people from all walks of life, but there were only two people we were here for—Aria and her mom.
“I…” She hiccupped a sob and hel
d my T-shirt tighter. I squeezed her against my chest, wishing I could take away every ounce of pain she was feeling in that moment. “I saw him. I…I found him.”
My stomach bottomed out. “You found him?” I asked. I had to make sure I heard her right. It was one thing feeling the loss she did, but to have witnessed that trauma was something else entirely.
She nodded against my chest, the sobs getting more gut-wrenching and I knew I couldn’t let her stay here, not surrounded by people staring at her. Dad and Lola were seeing to Jan who sat staring at a wall, not a single emotion on her face, but Aria…no one was there for Aria, and I promised myself there and then I’d always be there for her, no matter what happened.
The cab slamming on its brakes brought me out of my head and I stared down at Aria. It was the only time I’d seen her cry, because after that day nine years ago, she’d locked it away and become someone completely different. She’d had to push it into a part of her brain she wouldn’t access, because if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be able to live day to day.
I understood her more now than anyone ever would.
Aria stirred in her seat and then snapped her eyes open. “I’m gonna be sick.”
“Shit.” I flung the door open and helped her out, just in time for her to throw up against the curb. Fishing a few dollars out of my pocket, I then passed them to the cab driver who promptly squealed away from us.
“I’m never drinking again.” She groaned and let her head drop forward, then a second later she was throwing up again. I dropped my jacket and hers on the ground and held her hair back. The streetlights illuminated part of the street, but I wasn’t sure if I was thankful for the light or wished it wasn’t there.
She dry-heaved a couple of times and finally tried to stand. “I need water.” I picked our jackets up and wrapped my arm around her waist. “And food. I’m starving.”
I chuckled. “Only drunk you’d want food right after you throw up.”
“You have such huge hands,” Aria commented, her voice breathy, but it was nothing like how Willow had spoken to me. When Willow spoke, it drifted right over my head, but Aria’s voice hit me right in the pit of my stomach.
She grabbed hold of my fingers on her waist and trailed her fingertip over my thumb. “Have you ever measured your fingers?”
I raised a brow as I halted us outside my door. “Measured my fingers?” I asked and pushed my key into the lock. She was still leaning against me, and I liked her pressed against my side. She was Aria. The girl who bugged me to no end growing up, but she was also the girl who I would protect with my life.
“Yeah. Like in centimeters.”
I pushed the door open and helped her over the step, in case she missed it, and then flicked the lights on. She slammed her hand over her eyes and stumbled back into the wall as I locked the door behind us.
“Jeez, Cade, give a girl some warning.”
“Lights are on,” I answered her, and grabbed her wrist to lead her into the kitchen.
“Har-har—oh shit, where’s my cell?”
“Have you checked your pocket?” I asked and sat her on one of the bar stools. It probably wasn’t a good idea to have her sit there while she was intoxicated, but it was the only chairs I had down here. My other downstairs furniture wasn’t due to be delivered until tomorrow.