Page 86 of Cross the Line
“No,” is all he says, tightening his hold as he asks Finley, “What did he want?”
“To-to-to talk to me.”
“And?” Jayden coaxes when she starts pacing in front of us.
“I want to know everything he said. Every last syllable. Got it?” Fin nods. “Did he touch you?”
Finley balks. Her eyes dart to Jayden, and his hand closes around my forearm like a vise.
“Let go of me, JJ,” I warn before yanking myself out of his grasp. “Answer the fucking question, Finley-James. Did Ryker touch you?”
With an audible swallow, she says, “I poured hot coffee on him. Mine and Summer’s.”
Good. Still… “That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Uhh… y-yes.” Quickly, she adds, “He didn’t hurt me.”
“So why were you fucking crying?” I snap.
This time she holds my stare while offering me her phone. “You haven’t seen it?”
“Seen what?” Jayden snatches the phone.
I don’t know what it is he’s looking at, but Finley’s in tears again and Jayden’s gone completely stiff—frozen as he stares down at her screen. His chest rises and falls harder and faster the longer he stands there, nostrils flaring, muscle bunching tight under his Henley.
“It’s okay, Fin,” he finally says, handing me the phone. “It’s not bad. It’s not?—”
“Yes, it is, Jayden. It is because he showed me that photo this morning. On his phone. He kept going on about experimenting, saying that… that…” Glacial blue eyes soften on mine. “He said that you were young and that it’s normal to experiment when you’re kids.”
I’m going to kill that motherfucker.
“Elijah,” Finley murmurs as she comes to stand in front of me and takes my empty hand in hers. “I know he’s a liar. He’s a manipulator.”
I glance down at her phone. A photo of the three of us at the market is on the screen, and below it is another photo of her and Ryker outside her workplace. They’re close, and from the angle, you can’t see her face—just his hand on her. Ryker fucking Hallman is touching my girl. His dirty hands are on her.
“What else did he say?” Jayden sounds so cool. So together.
“He—he said he was trying to warn me like he warned you—” clammy fingers knot with mine, so tight I can feel her pulse punctuating mine “—about the bullies.”
Fuck.
I think I’m going to pass out when my stare darts to her face and there’s a glint of pity in her eyes.
“And?” Jayden coaxes again.
“I crushed the coffees to his chest. I told him I hate him, and he said something about, if I think I hate him, I should ask Presley something or another. Summer got there after that, and he left.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” is all I ask—it’s all the words I can get past the ball in my throat.
“Because I was at work, Elijah. Summer was there, and he didn’t hurt me. I sort of forgot about the reporter after I burned him with the coffees, and with everything he said whirring in my head, I forgot.”
“The photos aren’t important, Fin,” Jayden tells her, stroking the back of his fingers across her cheekbone.
She looks between the two of us. “But… but the photo… your hands… you’re touching.”
“People touch all the time, Finley.”
“I know, Jayden.” Trembling fingers zoom into the photo—to the corner of the table where my fingers are covering Jayden’s. “That’s not platonic. It’s not accidental.”
