The Problem with Forever

* * *

By the time I needed to stop to get ready for Peter’s party, a butterfly had formed. I’d never done one of those before. It still needed detail, I thought as I carefully placed it on my desk and turned to my closet.

Going to this party was huge, but the excitement was tainted as I slipped on the dress I’d picked out the night Rosa and Carl had said I could go. It was quarter-sleeved and royal blue. I paired it with black tights and flats. It wasn’t dressy, but I thought it was cute.

I stared at myself in the mirror for several seconds. That was all it took to hear Paige’s words again. I thought about speech class and why none of the other students had said anything about me not giving the speech along with them. As soon as that thought finished, a memory formed.

“You can come out now,” Rider said, crouched in front of the closet door. The room was softly lit behind him, but he was nothing more than a shadow.

Clutching Velvet to my chest, I shook my head. Tears had dried on my cheeks. I was never going to come out.

“It’s okay, Mouse. I promise.” Rider lifted his arms. “He’s gone. It’s just us and Miss Becky. You can come out.”

I lowered the doll. If Mr. Henry was gone, then it was okay. Uncurling, I pushed onto my knees and crawled forward. The moment I reached the door, Rider grasped my free hand. He pulled me onto my feet. I looked up and saw his face. His lip was split and turning an angry red. Fresh cut. Mr. Henry’s fists. I’d hidden while Rider distracted him.

“You’re safe now,” Rider said. “I’m here. You’re safe, Mouse. And I know you might not believe it, but I’m going to keep you safe forever.” He swallowed and swiped at his lip. “That’s a promise.”

Forever.

He’d promised he’d be there for me for forever.

But I was of the mind that there were two types of forever.

The good kind.

The bad kind.

I’d learned early on that the good kind of forever was, well, it was a lie. That kind of forever literally and figuratively ended in flames, because no matter how tightly you tried to hold on, that kind of forever slipped between the fingers.

The bad kind of forever lingered like a shadow or ghost. No matter what. It stayed, always in the background.

Closing my eyes, I focused on breathing past the burn. I couldn’t think about that right now. Tears clogged my throat, but I knew I wouldn’t cry. I hadn’t cried since I left that house.

Holy crap, I seriously hadn’t cried since that night. Realizing that just now left me feeling like there was a pit of snakes in my stomach. It wasn’t like my tear ducts were defective. My head was stuck. Everything was stuck. And I had to get...unstuck.

Starting with tonight.

I took the time to do just that on the way over to Ainsley’s. She lived in Otterbein, in one of the historic row homes pretty close to the Inner Harbor. I had no idea what houses went for in this area, but I knew they had to cost a pretty penny.

“You can sit...up front,” I said when she climbed in the back. She looked amazing, as always, wearing tight black jeans and a loose blouse that slid off one shoulder.

“That seat is reserved for Mr. Hotness Incorporated,” she replied, buckling herself in and then leaning forward to grab the back of my seat. “Plus, I kind of like being driven around while I sit in the backseat. You’re like my chauffeur.”

I snorted. “In...a decade-old Civic.”

“Whatever.” She smacked the seat. “I’ve gotta admit. I’m still surprised that Carl and Rosa were down for this.”

“Me, too,” I admitted. Before I left, they went over the ground rules once more. Carl still didn’t look like he was a hundred percent behind this.

Traffic was a pain, so it took a bit to pick up Rider, and when he climbed into the passenger seat, he sent a grin in Ainsley’s direction and then leaned over, kissing my cheek.

“Mouse.” He pulled back, his gaze moving over me, and even though I was sitting, I had the feeling he was seeing everything. “You look beautiful.”

I flushed.

“Do you know anyone like you that I can steal?” Ainsley asked, and I fought a grin. I was guessing things were not looking good for Todd.

Rider twisted in the seat as I pulled away from the curb. “Yeah, I do. His name is Hector.”