"Which is why I'm trying to get back on my feet. But I want to do it on my own. I have to prove to myself that I can. Now get out of my way so I can go."
He steps aside. "Why do you have to be so damn stubborn?"
"If you don't understand that, after all that I told you, then you'll never understand me."
"I DO understand but if you keep doing what you're doing, how is that going to get you off the streets?"
"I don't know but I'll figure it out." I open the door. "I'm sorry, Miles, but I need to do this on my own."
He sighs. "Would you at least talk to someone? I don't know if she'd want to. She doesn't like talking about it but she might do it if I explained what's going on."
"Who are you talking about?"
His eyes shift to the side. "My mom."
"Why would I talk to your mom?"
"She was homeless," he mutters. "It wasn't for very long but long enough that she knows what it's like."
"Your mom was homeless?" I ask, coming back inside and closing the door. "When?"
"Back when she was pregnant with me. Her parents disowned her when they found out she was pregnant with no plans to get married."
"They kicked her out?"
"Yeah. She had nowhere to go so she ended up on the streets. She was there less than a week but in that week she was almost raped, had what few possessions she owned stolen from her, and had nothing to eat. This woman saw her sleeping on a bench and asked if she could help. If my mom hadn't accepted the woman's help, she probably would've died out there and I never would've been born."
I stare at him, my arms crossed. "So is that why you did this?"
"Did what?"
"Is that why you got so involved in my life after you found out I was homeless? Is that why you bought me all that stuff? Because you're trying to make up for what happened to your mom?"
"No!" He walks away from me, shaking his head. "Why the hell do people keep saying that? This has nothing to do with my mom! I wasn't even born when she was going through all that."
"What people?" I walk up to him. "Who have you told about me?"
Miles turns to face me. "Greg. My friend from back home. He kept telling me to find a girl. I told him I'd already found someone. I mentioned you live on the streets and he gave me this speech about how I'm trying to make up for what happened to my mom. But I swear to you, Raine, that's not what I'm doing. I'm helping you because it's the right thing to do. I'm sure that's why that lady helped my mom, but just like you, my mom told her no at first. She had too much pride to accept help."
"What changed her mind?"
"Me. She knew it was dangerous for her to be out there, not able to eat or sleep. She realized she had to accept help if she wanted her baby to survive."
"I don't need to worry about that."
"No, but it's still dangerous living on the streets, especially when that asshole who hurt you isn't locked up. He could come after you, Raine. He could try to hurt you again."
"He doesn't know where I am. And I'm pretty sure he left town. He needed to. He was getting sloppy. Letting himself get too exposed. That girl showing up at the house just proves he wasn't being as careful as he should've been. I'm sure by now he's started up his business somewhere else. Somewhere where nobody knows him."
"He needs to be found," Miles says, his jaw clenched. "And then he needs to go to prison."
I grip his arm. "You're not doing anything, Miles. Promise me you won't."
"Why?" He yanks his arm back and walks to the wall of windows. "So he can go free? After what he did? So he can keep doing what he's doing? That's really what you want? The guy should be charged with attempted murder."
"That'll never happen. I'll never press charges against him. For one, I can't prove he did that to me, and two, I'm not putting myself at risk like that. He has too many people working for him. People who would come after me if I ever told the police about him."
"You don't know that," Miles says, still facing the window.
"You don't know Rob. He can persuade anyone to do most anything, especially the weak and the desperate. If I pressed charges against him, he'd hire someone to come find me and kill me."
"What if he already has?" Miles turns to face me. "He knows you're alive. You weren't there when he got home that day. You were supposed to be dead, your body still in the house, but it wasn't. He knows you're alive, which means he could have people looking for you."
I shudder at the thought. "He wouldn't do that. He doesn't need to. I'm not a risk to him. I've kept quiet all these months. He won't waste time and money coming after me."
"You don't know that for sure, which is why you shouldn't be living on the streets."
"I'm not going to be there forever. It's only temporary. And if Rob really wanted to find me, he would've done it by now." I walk to the door. "I'm going home."
Miles sighs. "Would you at least have dinner with me?"
"Not if we're going to spend it talking about this."
"We won't. I promise." He walks over to me. "What do you say? You do kind of owe me after using me the way you did."
I smile and set my backpack down. "Okay, I'll go."
"We need to go now. I'm starving." He walks over to the counter to get his keys. "Grab your sweatshirt. It's cold out." He gets his leather jacket from the closet. "Or you could wear this."
"The sweatshirt's fine," I say, pulling it on.
We leave the apartment and walk down to the street.
"Where are we going?" I ask.
"The Italian place. The one by my office. You're good with that, right?"
"Um, not really. That place is too fancy. I'm not dressed right."
"Neither am I but they know me and know I work at the law firm next door so they won't say anything about how I'm dressed. They want our business too much."
"If you go there for work I don't think we should go there." I walk faster down the street, leaving Miles behind. It's much colder than it was earlier and this sweatshirt isn't enough to block the frigid wind.
"Why would that matter?" Miles asks, racing to catch up to me.
"You really want them to see you with a homeless girl?"
"They don't know you're homeless. And if they did, I wouldn't care." He quickens his pace. "Why are you walking so fast?"
"Because it's cold."
"Raine, stop."
"I can't," I say, continuing to walk. "If I stop I get colder."
"Would you just stop?" I feel his arms go around me and my feet lifting off the ground.
"Hey! Put me down," I say, laughing as he continues to hold me.
"Will you wear my jacket?"
"Yes. Now put me down."
He slowly sets me on the ground, then helps me into his jacket, which is way too big but makes me instantly warm. He turns me around and leans down to kiss me, his warm lips covering mine.