Her laughter lightens the somber blanket enveloping me as she gently nudges me toward the exit. “Seriously. Go.”
“I’ll take you.” Jake’s arm snakes around my shoulder, and I lean into his touch before Gibbs disconnects his call and turns to me.
The air whooshes from his lungs as if a thousand pounds are weighing him down.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
“River’s outside.”
“River?” I rasp.
A fresh wave of adrenaline courses through my veins as soon as his name slips past my lips. It’s laced with a desperation that’s so potent I’m afraid I might choke on it. I need to see him. To have him hold me and tell me that everything’s going to be okay. That tomorrow will be better. And that we’ll figure it out together.
“Yeah.” Gibbs sighs. “He may have pissed off Ian when the bouncers threw him outside. Apparently, there weren’t any fists thrown or anything, but he wanted to give us a heads-up that he’s here.”
“But…what’s he doing here?” I ask. “Milo said––”
“That he couldn’t step foot inside SeaBird. He didn’t mention being outside,” Gibbs clarifies with an amused smirk. “It’s your call, though, Jake. If you want to take her instead of handing her off to Riv, you can use my car. But he sounded pretty distraught after seeing Ian get thrown out on his ass and would like to see Reese to make sure she’s okay.”
“River’s never distraught,” Jake mutters.
“Yeah, well, tonight he is. Might be good for him to spend a few minutes with Reese after everything that went down, don’t you think?”
I can see what Gibson’s doing. And even though it kind of pisses me off that he’s letting Jake think he has a right to tell me what I can and can’t do, I appreciate his effort. Because if Jake can give his blessing on the relationship, he might be able to convince Milo to do the same.
“Please, Jake?” I murmur.
He exhales and pinches the bridge of his nose, mulling it over as I wait with bated breath.
“Let me walk you out,” he finally decides. The defeat is clear in his voice, but it manages to ease the ache in my chest.
“Thank you,” I breathe out.
With his hand pressed to my lower back, Jake guides me through the crowded bar. The people are slowly snapping back to their own little realities and give us a wide berth as we sneak out the front.
As soon as the cold air kisses my cheeks beneath the awning, a set of strong hands tug me into a hard chest. I recognize who it belongs to instantly. And even though it’s pouring outside and River is soaked to the bone, his warmth surrounds me. Comforting me in a way that I didn’t even know was possible. He squeezes me tighter, and I breathe deep, committing to memory his familiar scent combined with the smell of fresh rain.
“You okay?” he murmurs. His breath brushes against the crown of my head as he leans closer. “I saw them throw Ian out and lost my shit.”
“I’m fine,” I mumble against him. “Promise.”
Jake clears his throat and steps back to give us a bit of space. “Take care of her.”
Riv nods. “I will.”
Then Jake heads inside, taking a small piece of my heart with him.
“Let’s get out of here,” River murmurs before he lets me go and leads me into the parking lot. The rain has picked up from a slow drizzle to an angry thunderstorm. As the lightning sparks in the distance, we pick up our pace, racing to his truck that’s only a few stalls away. I hunch my shoulders and cover my head, but it doesn’t stop the water droplets from soaking me to the bone in a matter of seconds.
“Get in,” Riv orders, cupping my ass before pushing me inside his truck.
My hair is a wet, tangled mess as I shove it away from my face and click the seat belt around me. Another clap of thunder booms in the distance. I flinch in the leather seat. Rounding the front of the truck, River hops inside, then turns the heat to full blast before pulling out of the parking lot.
“You sure you’re okay?” The light bounces off his bruised face as he glances over at me before clutching the steering wheel with both hands. The water is pounding against the windshield in angry sheets, and River’s brows furrow in concentration before he turns onto the main road.
“I’m fine. Are you okay?” I return.
He looks in the rearview mirror then mutters, “Yeah. Fine.”
A few minutes tick by in silence, and I let myself melt into the leather seat as the day finally catches up with me. So much hate. So much commotion. So much animosity. I just want everything to slow down and let me breathe for a second. I close my eyes and rest my head against the cold window.
“Shit,” River breathes. The curse is so quiet I’m surprised I hear it. Prying my eyelids open, I look over at him.
His forehead wrinkles before he rechecks the rearview mirror a few seconds later.
“What’s wrong?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer me but glances behind him as the windshield wipers continue flailing back and forth in time with my pulse.
Looking over my shoulder, a pair of headlights glare back at me.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “But I think they’ve been following us since we left SeaBird.”
Our street slips by on my right, and I turn back to River in confusion.
“Our street’s a dead end. I’m going to keep driving for a minute in case I’m not imagining things.”
“W-what do you mean?” I stutter, twisting in my seat to find the car getting closer.
“It’ll be fine, Reese.”
“You sure about that?”
The headlights are blinding as they bounce off the rearview mirror, so I can’t tell the model of the car to confirm my suspicion. “Is it Ian?”
“I don’t know.”
“Should I call the police?”
“I don’t know,” he repeats before glancing in his rearview mirror another time. Coming to a conclusion, he decides, “Yeah. It’s better to be safe than sorry. Call the police. Tell them we’re headed to the grocery store on Eighth Street.”
Too anxious to talk on the phone, I send a quick group text to Jake, Gibbs, and Milo, telling them to make the call and meet us there as soon as they can.
River presses the brakes when the road curves, but his truck doesn’t slow down the way it’s supposed to. He tries again, pumping the brake pedal a few more times.
“Shit,” he curses under his breath, his panic rising.
“What’s wrong?”
Glancing behind him, his grip tightens around the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. “Something’s wrong with the brakes.”
“Riv––”
“Hold on, Reese. I’m gonna have to take this corner a little sharp.” The tail of his truck slips against the slick asphalt as I fumble with the ‘oh shit’ handle above the window before the truck regains its momentum, sending us careening down the road.
The stranger’s car fades a little further into the distance but stays in our rearview mirror.
“One turn down. One to go,” Riv mutters under his breath, though I’m not entirely sure who’s he talking to. “Then there’s a straight shot to the store. The big patch of grass and slight hill will slow us down. Just one more turn.”