Page 29 of Steal Me (Rebel Hearts Heists 1)
Chapter 12
Josie
Sloane
“At last! I was beginning to wonder if you were going to spend the whole morning in that goddamn bathroom.” Fuck you, River.
I don’t say it, I know he’s trying to provoke me and I’m not picking up this fight. When I don’t say anything he explains that the others have all spread out around the greater San Francisco area to go and deposit some more of the cash they couldn’t get rid of in LA to avoid raising suspicions by making really large deposits. I guess it was a real issue, after all I’ve never seen nine million bucks together.
“Kaden gave me his safe credit card and told me to take you out shopping for something that isn’t leggings and California t-shirts. So I’m taking you to the mall.” He doesn’t look excited at the idea of spending the whole day with me but he doesn’t even look pissed off. Somehow, I take it as an insult and my tone sounds hostile and dismissive even to my own ears.
“You don’t have to babysit me. I can shop by myself.” I outstretch my hand to take the card and his smile unsettles me: it doesn’t reach his eyes and looks downright terrifying.
“Good try, kitten. You’re forgetting how we got in my fucking hometown. You know, the bank? The guns?”The kidnapping.
“Right. Yeah. Well then, I’m sorry River. You’re stuck with me.”
River shrugs. “I’ve been stuck with worse tasks. Let’s go, the mall isn’t far, we can walk.”A Task. I am a fucking task.So, this is the thing with River: one second he acts like he hates me and then, when I’m convinced that he’s a crazy psycho who hasn’t offed me just because he’s been outvoted on the matter, he’ll be all nice to me. He changes attitude so often that my head is spinning trying to keep up with his mood swings.
We spend about an hour wandering around this huge ass mall and he keeps his distance, staying two steps behind me, as if accidentally brushing against my arm could electrocute him or something. I buy a pair of jeans, a set of PJs to sleep in, even though I like to sleep in Kaden’s clothes, underwear and a few tops that don’t say California on them and a pair of converse shoes that will definitely draw less attention than the cowboy boots that are currently my only option when it comes to footwear.
“I think I’m pretty much done. With the leggings I got the other day, I can put together a few outfits.” River grabs my hand, it is so sudden that I barely have the time to protest as he drags me in front of the display window of a little boutique.
“I think you should get that.” He points at a dark green, short wrap dress with his inked finger. When I don’t react, he explains.
“That color matches your eyes and I think you’d look really hot in it. With the boots I bought you the other day.” I arch my brows, confused by the sudden softness I see in his gaze.
My self-defense mechanism makes me react with a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, right. Do we have any social engagements I know nothing about?”
River shrugs and offers me his ‘devil may care’ smile, and this time it reaches his eyes making them sparkle with warmth. “Just buy it, please?”
I run into the shop to get away from that gaze of his: when River softens up and smiles, he’s somehow scarier than when he acts like an unfeeling asshole. After I buy the damn dress, we sit in the food court with some Chinese food, but I set my chopsticks down after two bites because River’s eyes are still fixed on me.
He hasn’t touched his food, observing me quietly. “What?”
This tension between us is making me feel constantly on edge, more than the weird situation we’re in, more than all of us being on the run from something … or someone in my case. River doesn’t answer immediately, he keeps looking at me for so long that I almost think that in his typical dickish way, he just wants to unsettle me.
So I try to hide my gasp when he speaks.
“I care.” His words are spoken so softly that for a second, I think that I imagined it all. But then River takes one of my hands in his and I can barely breathe under the weight of his hazel gaze. “I do care. The other night, it meant something Sloane. It meant so much that I got scared shitless.”
He sounds sincere but I still feel hurt about the way he immediately denied that that night meant anything to him. “Sloane, you don’t understand how it is for me. I know the guys don’t trust me. I know I act like a crazy jerk and you know what? Most of the time, it doesn’t fucking matter. But it does with you. If you think that I don’t care.”
His words sound cryptic and I really need to make my life simpler, not more complicated, so I intentionally sound dismissive when I shrug and try to take my hand out of his grasp.
“Right. Today you care, but yesterday you didn’t and the day before you were ready to tie me up. The day before that? You were still trying to convince the others that killing me was the right thing to do.”
God help me but this guy is totally insane, because he nods. He actually agrees with me.
“Yeah. Can you blame me? It was the right thing to do. It probably still is, Sloane. But I changed my mind on wanting to kill you.”How is this an actual conversation we’re having?
“You’re something fucking else, do you know that?” I scoff and he doesn’t even flinch at my raised voice, he keeps that unnerving gaze on me and his next words are so serious, that I stop trying to take my hand away from his.
“You don’t know how it is for me, Sloane. I act like a crazy asshole because I don’t give a damn shit about the rest of the world. A world that judges and betrays and takes, takes until you have nothing left to give, until you can no longer breathe. You know this, don’t you? Because you know how it is to be alone, to be scared and to see your whole world crumbling around you. I can barely remember a time when I didn’t have to watch out, when I didn’t have to protect myself. And do you know what? If no one cared about me when I needed someone, I’m more than happy to keep everyone away.”
I open my mouth to speak but he interrupts me. “My parents died when I was five. Car accident. I barely remember them. My grandparents and the rest of the family didn’t give a shit about me and my sister Keira. No one wanted us. She was twelve at the time and they separated us when we got put in the system. Different foster homes. I was sent three hours away from her, my foster parents didn’t give a shit about me and I had to fend for myself. Keira was the only one who cared, she called me every week for six years.
Until she was eighteen and she could get a job and custody of me. She didn’t go to college, she spent the best years of her life raising me.” My eyes prickle because as I said crying is a thing for me … and I do know how he felt. I know what it feels like to be alone.
