Page 77 of Stolen for Keeps
I should’ve thrown it back and turned it into a weapon. But I didn’t.
“Maya,” I said her name like it was already mine. “A necklace, cursed or not, doesn’t scare me. You were in my arms, and that wasn’t a mistake. Whatever this is, it’s real. Just tell me. What good did you do?”
She slung the bag over her shoulder and stormed toward the door. “Get out of my way.”
I didn’t move. “Not a chance.”
She shoved me hard. But even as she pushed, she didn’t look away.
“If you think taking me in wasn’t a mistake,” she said, her voice shaking, “then you better believe that keeping me will be.”
And yet, I stayed right there. Because somewhere deep in the wreckage, I already knew. She was the truth I wanted, even if it came wrapped in lies.
21
MAYA
Somehow, I slipped past him. Maybe he was too caught up in weighing the fallout—his trust, his mistake in letting me in.
I bolted before he could see the tears break loose, before he saw me fall apart. And he just stood there by the door. Too calm, like he knew how this would end.
I threw my bag onto the passenger seat and fumbled with the keys. The engine roared to life, and I was gone, my pulse a frantic drumbeat.
Fat, heavy drops of rain slammed against the windshield as I sped down the road. I told myself I was in control. That this was my choice. That leaving was the only way to keep him safe.
Then, headlights flashed in my mirror.
Noah’s truck.
He pushed his engine harder, closing in, relentless. My heart lodged itself somewhere in my throat, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t.
Then came a bend in the road.
A break in the storm.
His truck veered, cutting me off with a move so precise andso fucking skillful that I had no choice but to slam on the brakes. The car skidded, the tires shrieking against wet pavement, and then…stillness.
I shoved the door open, stepping into the downpour, gasping, furious, and shaking. At least the rain would hide my tears.
Before I could say a word, he was there.
“You can’t just leave like this!” he exclaimed. “You owe me at least the truth.”
I hadn’t forgotten what he’d done for me. He’d pulled me from the brink. Literally. He’d held me like I was the only thing that mattered. And trusted me when I’d given him every reason not to.
No one had ever come that close.
And he was right. He deserved the truth.
“I did it for a girl, Noah. A little girl who otherwise would’ve died,” I muttered, my voice trembling.
The rain kept coming, slicking his hair, soaking his shirt, and pelting his lids. But he didn’t move. He just stood there, watching me like he was trying to make sense of everything at once.
And maybe…he did.
Because a second later, he stepped in.
One hand caught my arm. The other found my waist.
