Page 24 of Riff

As if any of it was her fault.

Then they’d said things about how she really had to think about what she was saying, because her words could completely ruin those boys’ futures. And that she better be really sure all of this happened, because they would take it to court, and she would have to go on the stand, and tell the whole courtroom every little thing that happened to her.

I couldn’t do that.

I could barely even think about it, let alone say it aloud. I definitely couldn’t repeat it over and over for the police. For a lawyer. For the court. With him sitting right there in the courtroom with me.

I just… couldn’t.

Maybe that made me weak, but I didn’t care. I’d been strong enough already.

“Okay,” Riff said, nodding. “It’s your decision. I just want to make sure you’ve given it some thought before—“

“I’ve had nothing to do but think about it,” I cut him off, tone sharper than I’d intended, and I saw it in the way his brows shot up, but he was quick to school his features into indifference.

“Okay. That’s fine. I’m not trying to persuade you in any direction. I just wanted to give you the options.”

“What are the others? Options?” I clarified as he taped off the gauze, then carefully slipped my sock back over my foot.

“I could take you anywhere you want to go. Back to your hometown—“

“No,” I said, tone frantic, mind racing with images of being stolen right from that town. Nothing about it would ever feel safe again.

“Okay,” he agreed, like some part of him knew I would say that. “I can also bring you back to California with me,” he offered. “I know we just met—“

“Yes,” I cut him off, tone borderline frantic.

“Yes?”

“Yes. That’s the option I want,” I said, holding his gaze.

He was holding his own thoughts back, I could see it in the way his dark eyes brightened, but he nodded. “Okay. Then you can come back with us. Fair warning, it’s a bit of a road trip still. We try not to drive for more than ten or so hours a day. So it could be two, two and a half days before we get there.”

“That’s okay. The further away from here, the better,” I said, hearing a door slam outside, and jumping despite myself.

“Hey,” Riff called softly, waiting until my gaze slid to his. “No one is ever going to put a hand on you again without your permission,” he vowed.

And, what’s more, I believed him.

Raff came back ten minutes later, arms loaded down with bags, and the scent of food made my stomach churn hard, despite the fact that I’d likely consumed more since knowing Riff than I had in a week.

“Vienna is going to come back with us to California,” Riff said to his brother as he started to separate out the food, making me realize just how much I’d ordered without really giving it any thought. It must have cost a small fortune.

“Yeah? Road trip buddies,” Raff said, all charm.

I appreciated how they did that. Made everything seem like it was no big deal, even if I imagined my presence complicated a lot of things for them. From food budgets to lodging, and, eventually, the situation back in California.

But I was choosing not to think about those things right then as I pulled the lid off a pile of perfectly golden French toast wedges. Then another container of a Belgian waffle topped in strawberries and bananas.

I had sides, too. Breakfast sausage, bacon, eggs, and hash browns.

It was more than I’d eaten in months. And there was no way I could eat even a third of it. But I was quick to plow in, shoving forkful after forkful into my mouth, barely getting a chance to taste the food before I was pushing more down.

It wasn’t long before my stomach was stretched to bursting, creating a pain I hadn’t felt in a long time.

“Fan of breakfast foods?” Raff asked as he shoved a slice of bacon into his mouth.

“It’s my favorite,” I admitted. “My grandma used to make a big spread every Sunday. It was my favorite day of the week.”

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