Always The Hero (Plot Twist, I'm Pregnant 2)

I’d forever be broken. Some days, I hated myself because who would want to be friends with someone that could barely string a sentence together?

I nodded again.

“Well Abi, hate to say this, but I like Abigail better. I’ll call you that. Abi sounds like a street name. You’re not going to be on the streets anymore. Okay?”

I took another bite, cocking my head at him. I didn’t understand what he meant, so I shook my head in hopes he understood what it meant. Finding words to explain myself was the last thing I wanted to do.

I finished off my sandwich and wiped my hands on the blanket and reached for my bottled water. I twisted off the cap and drank half of it immediately.

“Wow, you were hungry. Do you want more?” Logan took out a black container with a clear lid. “It will be cold, sorry about that.”

He opened the top and tilted the bowl so I could see what he was talking about. I had never tasted steak, or if I had, the memory wasn’t there. The meat was brown with a pink center, and the smell of something a spicy made my nose tingle. I got on my hands and leaned forward, sniffing it. It smelled really good.

“Ever had it before?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s good,” he popped a piece in his mouth and smile. “See? It isn’t poisoned or anything.” Logan winked at me, and something about it made him seem so much more untouchable.

I glanced away, blushing. My cheeks were hot, and I was embarrassed. Why did he have to be here? I just wanted to spend my night somewhere clean and uninterrupted. No loud noises, people fighting, dogs barking, cats screeching, people crying, or worse, people dying.

One night of peace, that was all I wanted.

He sat the bowl down and pushed it over to me. “I understand you need to trust me. You can, but my word isn’t as good as my actions, and only time will tell you that you can.”

I picked up the bowl and pressed against the wall again, popping a piece of steak in my mouth just like Logan did. My eyes rounded when the flavor burst across my tongue. I picked up another piece and stared at it with wonder.

Logan chuckled. “Good, right? I know. It’s my favorite. I eat way too much of it. I need to watch my health.”

Health. It sounded familiar, but I couldn’t think of what it meant. I didn’t ask. The last thing I wanted Logan to think was that I was stupid. I wasn’t stupid.

I wasn’t.

Still, he must have seen the look on my face because he proceeded to tell me. “Health has to do with the state your mind and body are in, your blood and organs. Like it’s better to eat an apple than it is a candy bar because apples have good sugar and candy bars are fattening and have bad sugar. It’s like that with almost everything in life. I should eat more chicken because it’s leaner and less fattening and it won’t clog my arteries, the veins in my heart, like this meat would. If that happened, something called a heart attack could happen. It could kill me.”

I inhaled a sharp breath and without thinking, tossed the steak out the window to get it away from him. I didn’t want him to die. Why in the world did he have it if it could kill him?

He tossed his head back and laughed. Was he laughing at me?

“I’m not laughing at you.” He took the words right out of my head again. “You didn’t have to throw it out the window. Everything is fine in moderation. Eating steak every now and then is okay, but I eat it a few times a week because I love it so much. That isn’t good for my body. Also, working out is healthy, things you do to get your heart rate up and your skin sweaty.”

A flash of what I saw two people doing against a wall in the back of an alley next to a dumpster came to mind. Why did I think of tha

t?

“Thanks for caring enough about me to throw away your food. That was nice of you,” he admired, giving me a kind smile.

I gave him one in return. He knew my intentions. I didn’t have to speak for him to understand me, and because of that, it made me want to talk.

“How long have you been out on your own?”

I lifted a single finger.

“One week?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Month?”