“Are you sore?” she asks, sitting up on the bed, the towel almost falling off. She taps the empty spot on the bed next to her. “I’m really tired, August. Really tired,” she says, and I can hear the pain in her voice.
Did I cause that pain?
I glance at the clock. It’s almost three in the morning. The adrenaline that would’ve been running through her system must be gone by now. I kick my shoes off and climb into bed, so my injured side is to the edge, then I pull her up so her head lies on my shoulder.
“Go to sleep.”
She curls herself around me, and within seconds she’s fast asleep, smelling like strawberries and all things Rylee.
I lie there listening to her soft snores, wondering what the fuck I’m going to do about this situation.
Josh won’t stop.
I know he won’t.
He was the one who sent those thugs. I recognized them as his men as soon as they entered the house.
I attempt to pull my arm out from under her, but she pushes herself closer into my side. So, I stay that way, falling in and out of asleep until I finally close my eyes and pass out listening to her breathing.
She’s awake before me. When I finally open my eyes, I find her sitting on the end of the bed. The towel she had on still covers her body as she sits there quietly with her head down.
“Rich girl.” She spins around to face me, her eyes red and her face bare of any makeup.
She’s simply beautiful.
“Are you in pain?” she asks, her eyes going straight to my shoulder.
“No,” I answer, sitting up.
She stands, heads to her closet, and reaches for a dress, dropping the towel and changing in front of me. “We have to go to the police station.”
“You don’t have to.”
She turns, now dressed, and shakes her head. “I do. Now come… Noah’s waiting for us.”
I catch her wrist as she walks past me on her way to the door, and a tear leaves her eye when she turns back to me. “I told you to stay away from me. I’m nothing but trouble.”
“You aren’t. Stop saying that. Stop doing that. There’s nothing wrong with you. It’s those who you used to associate with.” She pulls her arm free, opens the door, and steps out.
I take a minute, putting my shoes on before I join her. When I do, Noah and Rylee’s sister are standing at the kitchen counter talking while Rylee makes a coffee. After she’s done, she hands it to me then goes back to make a cup for herself.
“How are you feeling today?” Noah asks, nodding to my shoulder.
“I’ll be fine.”
“Good to hear. Because the station has already called asking when you’re going to be there.”
My phone starts ringing. I didn’t even realize I had it with me.
“Noah grabbed it,” Rhianna says at my look of confusion.
Picking it up, I answer the call. “August, oh, good. I’ve been calling, but you haven’t been picking up,” Paige says. “Are you at Rhianna’s?”
“Yes.”
“I’m at the door.”
I hear a knock, and Rylee opens the door to her brother and Paige standing there. Paige runs inside and wraps her arms around my waist, hugging me tight.
“Where does your father think you are?”
“With Beckham,” she says, pulling back. “Technically, I am. I am not lying.”
“You shouldn’t be here.” I look over to Beckham who’s talking to Rylee. “Take her home.”
Beckham glances at Paige. “I told her she wasn’t allowed to come. Her father even said so,” he states, making my eyes go to Paige.
“This is what got you into trouble last time.” She glances down at my words, avoiding eye contact. “Take her home, Beckham,” I tell him. “I’ll call you later, Paige.”
She nods and says no more, then marches out with Beckham.
“That was a little harsh,” Rhianna says.
I ignore her and ask Noah, “Should we go now?”
“Yeah, if you’re ready.”
My answer is a nod.
Once we get to the parking lot, I watch Paige get into her boyfriend’s car and drive away.
“You can ride with me,” Rylee says, coming up behind me.
“No.”
“You will ride with me, August Trouble. Get in my fucking car. Now. So we can talk.” I hear a faint giggle and know it’s her sister, so I sigh and get in. When we’re both buckled in, she starts the car and takes off with a squeal of her wheels.
“What do you want to talk about?” I ask, checking her out in my peripheral vision, while both of her hands are on the steering wheel and she’s clenching it tightly.
“I want to know what the fuck is going on. Tell me… who those men were, and why they were at your house.”
I scrub my hand down my face.
Fuck! I’m still so tired, even if it was one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time, lying next to her. I wonder if it was her bed or her.