“I should have told you that earlier today. Sorry.”
Our breathy chuckles intertwine, both of us a little timid, not sure if it’s okay to laugh yet or not.
“It was the concussion. I was rendered mute from the impact,” she teases.
My smile softens into something hesitant when she eases back. Our gazes find each other. I ignore the smeared mascara and tear-stained cheeks because all I see is that tiny glimpse of light in her eyes, and it loosens a knot in my chest.She’s safe.
“What now, Hannah? Can I drive you to the police station to?—”
“No! I don’t want—that’s not…” She pauses, collects herself. “He didn’t actually…you know…”
“It was still assault.”
“I know. I just…” She leaves the statement unfinished—as vacant as the expression on her face.
“Look, I won’t force you to do anything, but he shouldn’t get away with what he did.”
Everything unsaid rests heavy in the way her hazel eyes meet mine. It’s the same way she looked at me five years ago on that sidewalk.
“Will you think about it? Even if you don’t go tonight, you could go tomorrow or a few days from now.” She nods. “Would it be alright if I took some pictures of your wrists in case you change your mind?”
A long swallow moves down her throat, but she agrees.
I move us to a more illuminated area of the parking lot and snap a picture with my phone first, then hers. Before I pass it back, I add myself as a contact.
She pushes up to her toes to sneak a peek at her screen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m your only witness. You need my number.”
Eyes hooded, I look up at her, and there’s a smirk on that wily little face of hers. When my contact is saved, I navigate to her texts and send myself a message. The simultaneous sound of awhooshfrom hers and apingfrom mine, makes her cock a brow.
“And that?”
“That,” I say, handing her phone back, “is me leveling the playing field. You have mine and now I have yours.”
“If you say so, soldier.”
Neither of us move. Her grin is timid and soft, but genuine. I still don’t know if it’s okay to laugh. I don’t think she’s sure either. But she’s trying. I think I can try too.
I glance at the time. “Will you let me drive you home?”
“You don’t have to?—”
“Let me rephrase that,” I interject, tone serious. “You shouldn’t be driving by yourself. So, if you won’t let me drive you, I’m at least going to follow you so I know you get home safe.”
Her lips purse for a beat, considering, her attention locked on something over my shoulder. “You know what I really want?”My forehead crinkles. “I want a drink.”
The delighted tilt of her mouth and pointed direction of her gaze has me spinning to see what she’s got in mind. Amidst the rush of fists and adrenaline, I’d forgotten where we are.
Our shoulders brush, stares fixed onthe bar that shall not be named.
“I don’t know, runaway. You think we have it in us?”
She glares. “Ineeda drink.”
After the night she’s had, I can’t blame her. And you’ll catch me dead before I turn down extra time with this girl. If a designated driver is what she needs, that’s exactly what I’ll be.
I arc a dramatic arm ahead of us. “Lead the way then.”