Page 28 of Steal Me (Rebel Hearts Heists 1)
That was what I heard. All of the moments that Pierce told me that I wasn’t good enough flood back and I inhale trying to breathe through it. I narrow my eyes in the mirror and roll my shoulders back. I’ll be damned if I let Pierce destroy me now.
I need a plan though.
Once we get to the safe house and this blows over … I need to get out of the US. My eyebrows raise as I mull over the idea of Canada. The thought gets put on hold as someone knocks on the door. I open and meet Royce’s dark green eyes. His jaw clenches at something and I duck under his arm moving past him. There isn’t exactly any personal space in this damn hotel room, except for one place. The balcony. I move past Kaden and Blaine sitting on the end of the bed, ignoring River’s gaze from where he’s laid out on the other bed. I push open the balcony doors and inhale the scent of the Pacific and close the door partially, glad that there are curtains.
I lean against the railing and look over the dark night sky. I wish I lived somewhere with less light pollution. I’ve always had a thing for stars and I’d love to be able to see them better. When the door opens and the scent of River rolls over me, my jaw clenches again with tension.
“Kitten …” His voice is cautious and I feel a bit nervous.
I speak softly, not wanting to get into it with him. “What do you need?”
“I don’t need anything,” he mutters as he steps up to the railing next to me.
“So why are you out here?” I meet his gaze and he winces slightly.
“What I said earlier, I—”
“I don’t really care.” I hate the words as soon as I speak them. I’m a fucking liar, so what? It’s not like we’re even friends right? I don’t owe River any truth about my feelings or how much he hurt them. “I think you summed up both our feelings pretty accurately about that night, it didn’t mean shit. It’s not like anything really happened anyway. So, whatever. We’re good.”
We’re so NOT good.
River lets out a low almost growl. “Damn it, Sloane, I didn’t mean that and you know it.”
I turn and face him fully, narrowing my eyes. “I don’t know anything. I don’t know why I’m here. I don’t know why you’re acting like an asshole. Hell, I don’t even know why I am even talking to you. Just leave me alone, at least when you were being a dick I knew what to expect. And then you fucking get mad at the others when they say that you’re crazy!”
River’s hand wraps around my arm gently, to stop me from turning and I really try to stop my flinching because I know that he wouldn’t physically hurt me. Not like that. Not anymore. It doesn’t work though and he instantly lets go, and steps away from me. My cheeks turn warm as I look back out at the coast line.
“Please leave me alone.” I whisper.
The balcony door closes and I let out a tired sigh. Sitting down on the cement balcony I find myself oddly wishing that he hadn’t actually left.
This is a complete mess. I’m a complete mess.
???
Sloane
It’s morning again and for a moment, when I open my eyes, I think I’m stuck in some odd Groundhog Day kinda deal. Because River is watching me sleep, sat on a plush chair at the bottom of my bed. He’s wearing his usual pissed off expression, his hazel eyes are dark and stormy this morning and they’re fixed on me.
As if it was my fault for thinking that there’s more behind that crazy asshole façade that he shows the rest of the world. For thinking that we had a connection, that maybe he might even care about me. Well Sloane, I think, that’s what happens when you have a crush on the men who kidnapped you at gunpoint.
Why do I keep seeing them as nice guys, why is my body attracted to each of them as if this was a dating game-show rather than us running from the law? Each of us for our own personal reasons. Because something else I can’t forget is that River knows the truth about Pierce. He didn’t tell the others. He kept my secret. I let that thought simmer in my mind, still fogged up by sleep and I can’t help but look at his tall, muscular but lean form sprawled on the chair.
He has his blond hair tied in a bun on the top of his head, his high cheekbones almost caressed by his blond eyelashes as he looks at me with half lidded eyes. He’s clean shaven and my gaze follows the square line of his jaw, his perfect chin, the black ink that crawls up his neck from the collar of his white t-shirt. He’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and dark blue jeans, he looks like a more modern version of James Dean or River Phoenix. That’s why his name is perfect for him. Perfect like his strong arms covered in black ink. His hands are bare but not his knuckles. There are letters on his knuckles but they’re inked in some gothic font that makes them look almost like runes, so I haven’t had the chance to make out what they spell out. I’ve never seen River shirtless and I wonder if he’s inked all over. Suddenly, an urge to see him shirtless hits me over the head and I have to fight the weird, almost toxic attraction I have toward him. The more time I spend around each of these men, the more intense it becomes.
“Are you gonna stay in bed all day pretending not to be staring at me?” I shake my head, averting my gaze and immediately missing having him in my sight. What the fuck is wrong with me, seriously?
He said that the moment we shared, the kisses between us meant nothing and a fresh wave of hurt invades me when I remind myself about it. When I think that he wanted to kill me from the very beginning. “Don’t flatter yourself, River. I’m just trying to wake up.”
The corner of his top lip quirks up and my eyes fly back up to his, as if there was a magnet between us, making it impossible not to lock gazes. I see some kind of strange amusement in his hazel irises, he really is fucking crazy.
“Right, tell yourself that. Kitten …” The last word is nothing more than a whisper and when I get out of bed, I feel so exposed under his gaze that I pull Kaden’s t-shirt down, trying to cover my thighs. I mean, he’s seen me almost naked but that was before. Before he made it clear that the intimacy I felt with him was one-sided. I put on some leggings and a pink sweatshirt that says California on the front, leaving my hair down.
I have no makeup with me and I’ve never missed it like in this moment. It would be a barrier between me and that hazel gaze, like a mask, a layer of protection. I sigh and stiffen my shoulders with the resolve that I have to look after myself, try to get the guys’ help to leave the country, to go where Pierce will have no influence, no reach. I also need to guard my heart, to harden the outer shell that the guys have been weakening since this whole mess began.
