Page 138 of Worthy

“Why didn’t I think of that?” she drawls sarcastically, tossing me the phone.

I barely catch it in time. Swiping the screen frantically with trembling fingers, I shift onto my knees.

“No, no, no,” I whisper desperately, my voice breaking.

“No reception,” she replies, confirming what’s becoming abundantly clear. “Don’t you think I would have called for help if I could?”

Bitterness rises up inside me—an ugly, dark emotion—and I sneer, “You don’t need to be so fucking rude!”

Her drawn-out laugh makes me even angrier. “Don’t I? We’re in this fucking mess because of you.”

In one swift motion, I launch myself at her, and we fall back on the hard floor. “I didn’t fucking cause this!”

She easily overpowers me with the weight of her body on top of mine. The phone slides across the floor, descending our half of the van into darkness.

Her shadowed face leans down, and my shaky breath dances across her parted lips. “Are you fucking done?”

“No!” I hiss, struggling against her tight grip on my wrists. My heels kick out on the floor, and she shifts her weight, her fingers digging into my skin. “You’re fighting the wrong person.”

I bare my teeth, and the action smashes our noses together. Melanie secures my wrists with one hand, grabs my chin, and forces me back down. “You’re fighting the wrong person.”

Breathing hard through my nose, my tits strain against the low neckline of my dress. Her blue eyes bore into mine, ordering me without words to calm the fuck down and get my shit together.

She climbs off, then sits back against the wall with her elbows on her raised knees. We’re both breathing just as hard, sizing each other up.

“I don’t know what the fuck has gotten into you or why you even talked to that guy in the first place, but we need to bury the fucking axe if we want to get out of this situation in one piece.”

“How do I know this isn’t some sick joke of yours?”

Laughter bubbles out of her, and when she swipes her long bangs away from her eyes, I stare at the dried blood on her forehead and temple.

“You’re bleeding.”

“That’s what I get for following you into back alleys.”

My throat jumps and then I shift onto my knees and crawl over to her. Reaching out, I hold her ocean eyes while tentatively stroking my trembling fingers over the hard lump. My stomach swirls with something foreign. I draw back and hold my breath. We’re still too close.

Her matted, black hair sticks to the dried blood on her temple, and her pale cheeks are covered in streaks of mud.

Reaching out again, I brush her raven strands away from her skin, causing her to wince. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she whispers quietly.

But it’s not. She’s right…

I put us here.

Swallowing thickly, I squeeze my eyes shut when more tears threaten to fall. I can’t stay as composed as her.

“Hey,” she breathes out, cupping my cheek in a soft and tender touch.

My eyes shoot open, locked in her sky-blue gaze.

“I have a plan.”

“You do?”

Her weak smile tells the truth that her lips won’t. When she nods, I know it’s a lie. “I do.”

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