11. Maddison

Maddison

I ’m unsure how to handle this whole paparazzi thing. I panicked the last time something like this happened, but this time, I’m resisting the urge to, mainly because I don’t have another option. What am I going to do? Take off? Where? I don’t know my way around the Royal City.

Instead, I climb into River’s car. A few minutes later, we’re exiting the shade of the carport and turning onto the road that leads to the main area of the city. The sky is glistening with sunlight, and the air is humming with the sounds of people wandering around, driving around, running up and down the sidewalk. I envy the latter to the point where my legs ache to be outside, my feet slapping against the concrete.

“You’re thinking about running, aren’t you?” River notes the direction of my gaze.

His hands are resting on the wheel, and he keeps tapping his finger with the ring on it, his body buzzing with restless energy.

“Yeah … I can’t wait to get out there.” I sigh longingly. “It keeps me centered, you know.”

“I do.” He moves his hand to the shifter.

I twist in the seat to face him. “How is your injury doing?”

“Fine.” He shifts gears then uses that hand to lightly touch his side. “My skin’s a bit tight, but other than that, it’s okay. I think I’ll be able to run slowly in a couple of days.” His gaze slides to me. “Then we can start training you again. Tryouts are soon.”

“I know.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. “I’m so nervous. It’s weird ’cause I haven’t been before, but there’s just so many good runners. And now I’m not even training right now.”

“You’ll be fine; trust me. People have to take time off for injuries all the time. Isla had to take off like two weeks during our junior year because she messed up her ankle.”

It’s odd hearing him talk about her so casually.

“I saw her times online. She’s fast.”

“She trains. But she also has the best trainers. You’ve barely had any training up until this point. My bet is you’re going to PR the hell out of tryouts.”

A smile pulls at my lips. “Way to stroke my ego, and yours.”

He chuckles. “I kind of did, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, but it’s cool. I like being told I’m amazing.” I wink at him, and he laughs.

It’s crazily amazing how easy it is to be around him sometimes.

A few minutes later, we’re pulling into the parking lot behind the library, a daunting building to behold; stories high with castle-like towers and a gothic ambiance. The stained-glass windows alone are pieces of artwork, along with the tiled walkway that leads up the double door entrance.

“Wow,” I say to River as we approach the building, unable to remove my eyes from it.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” He laces our fingers together. “It’s the oldest building in the city.”

“It’s amazing.” I inch closer to him as a man walks out through the doors.

River takes the opportunity of my nearness to release my hand and slip his arm around my back. We’re so close as we enter the library that I can feel his body heat engulfing me. It’s noticeable, too, since when we pass by the front desk, the fifty-something-year-old woman sitting behind it glances up at us with a frown. Her lips part to say who knows what, but when she notes River, she stops the words from leaving her mouth.

River walks forward without noticing, steering me through the highest arched doorway I’ve ever seen. On the other side is the motherload of all libraries. The ceiling stretches up three stories and peaks at the top, and the walls are lined with towering bookshelves. Shorter bookshelves line the room’s main area, along with tables, chairs, sofas, and it even has a small coffee shop in the back.

The place is pretty empty, probably since it’s so early.

“They serve breakfast here,” River explains as we make our way past a section of sofas, heading toward the coffee shop. “I figure we can get something to eat before we start looking for books on info for, well, you know.”

I’d forgotten about breakfast until he brought it up. But it’s problematic. On the one hand, I know I need to eat. On the other hand, the prices listed on the menu are astronomically high. River will offer to pay—that’s a given fact—and I keep allowing him to do it, which is starting to become a real problem.

“What looks good?” he asks as we arrive at the counter.

Behind it is a girl a few years older than us. She has short black hair and is wearing an apron. She has a frown on her face as she steps up to the register, as if she hates her job.

“What can I get you?” she asks in a bored tone.

River flicks a glance at me.

I’m restless and twitchy, scratching my wrist as I deliberate what to do. If I want to get on the cross-country team, I have to nourish my body. Usually, the cafeteria is my way of doing this, but that’s not an option for now. Starving isn’t, either.

“I’ll have the egg and sausage sandwich and a small coffee,” I tell the barista then tell River, “I’m paying you back. I don’t know when, but I will.”

“Sounds good, Mads.” He sounds like he’s tolerating me.

I resist a heavy sigh and peer around while he orders for himself and then pays the barista. She takes his name, and it’s obvious she doesn’t know who he is, which makes me wonder if she’s from northside, or perhaps an out-of-towner. After that, we head over to a table and sit down to wait for our food.

My gaze travels around the bookshelves, and my mind floats back to when I saw Finn and Eli seemingly vanish through a wall.

“I wonder if this library has any secret passages,” I remark, partly joking.

But River has a serious expression as he rests his arms on the table and leans toward me. “There are actually rumors that it does, but I’ve never seen them or know anyone who’s seen them, so it could be merely a legend.”

“Oh.” I slant back in the chair. “I was actually joking, but now I’m intrigued. Should we go look for one?”

Confused amusement sparkles in River’s eyes. “You want to go look for a secret passage?”

“Sure. Why not?” I shrug and smile as I get to my feet. “We can do it while we wait for our food.”

River is beyond amused as he stands up and rounds the table. “Okay, lead the way.”

My smile widens as I start toward the closest row of bookshelves with River trailing closely behind me. I head toward the back wall where more bookshelves are. Once I reach the area, I grind to a stop and tap my finger against my bottom lip. “So, which one of these books do you think opens the secret passage?” I assess the selections then tug on a thick, leather-bound book.

Nothing happens, and I’m mildly disappointed.

“Did you really think that was going to work?” River teases me while gently bumping his shoulder against mine.

“I don’t know. Maybe.” To be honest, I didn’t, but it’s kind of fun pretending. Besides … “This place is huge, with a ton of books; who knows what secrets are hiding behind these walls.” I grin.

He mirrors my smile. “You want to tug on some more books then?”

“Oh, absolutely.” I’m partly joking, but I pull on the nearest book, anyway.

River does the same with his eyes on me. We do that a few more times, and nothing happens. But at least we’re smiling.

After we’re done, we collect a stack of books that may contain some answers to what exactly happened with the Everfords. By the time we’re stacking the books on our table, the barista is calling out River’s name.

“I’ll go get our food,” he tells me then walks over to the counter.

I watch him, biting on my bottom lip as I check out his ass. Then I shake my head and focus on the books because: what the heck is wrong with me? Have I lost my ability to have any self-control?

River returns a handful of minutes later and sets the coffees and sandwiches down. I have a book open and am skim-reading a page about how royals came to be. Sure, it doesn’t have anything to do with what we’re looking for, but it is interesting.

“Dude, did you know that the original royal families became wealthy because they killed a bunch of people?” I peer up at River as he takes a seat beside me. “I mean, it was a long time ago, but still, it’s kind of messed up.”

He unwraps his sandwich. “Will you think less of me if I say I already knew that?”

I shake my head. “No, you didn’t kill anyone. Besides, sometimes I think you don’t even like being a royal.” I direct my gaze back to the book but glance at him a moment later when I can feel him watching me. “What?”

“It’s nothing.” The way he’s staring at me, though, doesn’t appear to portray that it’s nothing.

“I feel like you’re lying to me, bro.” I keep my tone light so he knows I’m not upset. I’m simply stating a fact.

“It really is nothing.” He reaches for a book. “I was just thinking about how it seems like you’re the only person who really sees me.” He clears his throat as he grabs a book and opens it up in front of him.

I do the same, attempting not to think about how right he truly is, that out of all the people I’ve met, River is the one who seems to get me—a royal. I’m unsure how this happened.

Now I’m the one to clear my throat. “And vice versa.” I leave it at that and start reading again.

He does the same, seemingly on the same page as I am—not literally but metaphorically.

We remain quiet for a while, the sound of pages flipping filling up the air. We eat while we research and, every so often, when I reach for my coffee, he extends his hand toward his own, and our fingers brush. It happens so many times that it becomes comical, and I snort a laugh. River chuckles. Then, with a smile, he returns his focus back to the book.

Slowly, he angles his leg toward mine until our knees touch. I should pull away. I need boundaries and rules. We’re not in a place where putting up the fa?ade that we’re dating is necessary. And yet, I don’t budge.

The contact with him makes it complicated to concentrate, but I manage. Eventually, I move on from the book I’m reading and pick up a new one. This one is thin and old, the cover is worn, and the golden engraving in the center is peeling. It looks like a rose, with wilting leaves and thorns.

I trace my finger along it, and images dance in my mind.

“You see this?” My aunt points at a drawing she did in her sketchbook. “This is an important symbol, Maddy. If you ever see this anywhere, don’t go near it.”

I’m sitting in my bed, and I’m so lost as I glance up at her. “Why?”

“Because it’s dangerous,” she explains as she stares at the page and traces her fingers along the charcoal lines and shades on the page. “Remember that thorns are always dangerous.”

I remember, when she told me this, I’d thought she meant thorns on rose bushes were dangerous. I was only like six or seven, and I’d once fallen into a rosebush, so it made sense to me then. Now, though …

“River,” I whisper under my breath. “Does this symbol mean anything to you?”

He leans over, his face close to mine as he examines the symbol on the cover. “I don’t think so.” His gaze welds with mine. “Why?”

“My aunt drew it once.” I skim my fingers along the cover. “She told me if I saw it, to stay away from it because it was dangerous. I thought she meant thorns and roses in the literal sense because I was like seven.” Pressing my lips together, I move to open it?—

River places his hand on top of mine, stopping me. “If it’s dangerous, maybe you shouldn’t look at it. At least not in the open. We can check it out and take it home.”

I hesitate. “Say we check it out, and someone finds out I have it?”

The corners of his lips tip downward. “Shit, that’s probably not a good idea then.” He blows out an exhale as he slumps back in the chair. He glances around at the few people sitting at the tables. More have been wandering in the later it gets. “I still don’t feel comfortable looking at it in the open.”

I briefly dither before pushing my chair away from the table and rising to my feet. With the book tucked under my arm, I nod for River to follow me as I hurry toward the bookshelves. He snatches a hold of my hand before I make it far but doesn’t pull me to a stop. He walks with me, both of us moving briskly as we rush out of the public eye and into the shadows of the bookshelves located at the far back, where the sounds of chatter fade into stillness.

“Okay, what are we doing back here?” River asks as I release his hand.

“This place might not have a secret passage that we know of, but there’s a lot of places to keep a lowkey status.” I gesture at the emptiness of the row in front of us. “Let’s look at the book back here. No one’s around.”

Reluctance masks his features. “I don’t know, Mads. There are cameras everywhere.”

“Stand in front of me then.” I move closer to the shelf behind me. “And pretend we’re making out or something.”

He blinks at me in a comical way. “What?”

“I said pretend,” I clarify. “Come on; you’ve kissed me before, so you know I don’t have cooties.” I smirk.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and warily glances around. “I don’t know … Maybe you do, and I just haven’t caught them yet.” He looks back at me, a smile playing on his lips.

Rolling my eyes, I open the book. “Get closer to me.”

He does, inching nearer until the tips of our shoes touch. Then he slants forward and places his hands on the bookshelf behind me so I’m trapped between his arms.

Okay, I so did not think this through properly. I do my best, though, to focus past my thundering heartbeat and open the book. I turn a few pages that are introductions and indexes before finally reaching an interesting page. I quickly read a few articles.

“Jesus, this Everford family went through so much. Not only were they hunted, but they were targeted by a specific family who wanted them all dead because I guess there was some treaty made back in the day where if their family bloodline ceased to exist, this particular family would get all of their wealth and land.”

“What was the family name?” River murmurs, his face close to my head.

I think he might be smelling my hair. I can’t judge him since I always take a deep breath when I get into his car because it smells like him.

“Hold on.” I turn to the next page, but before I can read the words, I spot a person out of my peripheral vision heading down the row in front of us. “Shit, someone’s coming.”

River stiffens, pushing back. “Who is it?”

I peek over River’s shoulder. “He looks around our age. He has black hair, and he’s definitely staring at us … Wait, I think I’ve seen him walking around the academy with Eli.”

Before I can utter another word, River dips his lips toward mine and whispers, “Just play along with me.” Then he kisses me.

For a stage kiss, this is beyond intense as he parts my lips with his tongue and kisses me until I’m breathless. I clutch onto the book as he does in a pathetic attempt not to grab the bottom of his shirt and pull him closer to me. I lose the battle, though, and drop the book, so I grab the hem of his shirt. As I pull him closer, my knuckles brush the hard, lean lines of his abs. He shudders, moaning, and then he bites my bottom lip. I groan, thinking about what it felt like to grind against him the other day when we were in his dorm room, how good that orgasm felt. It makes me want another one.

I’m about one step away from latching my leg around his waist when someone says, “Hey, River, get a room.”

Laughter follows as River pulls away with reluctance that causes my belly to swoop.

His eyes are wild as he stares at me, sweeping a path along my bottom lip with his thumb. “Wow,” he breathes out.

“I—” My gaze snaps to the guy standing a ways behind us, staring at us. “That guy is staring at us.”

River doesn’t glance behind him. “I think we should go. Just stick the book on the shelf behind you as discreetly as you can.”

I nod in agreement with the first thing but don’t put the book back on the shelf. I slip it underneath my shirt and tuck it into the waistband of my pants. It’s thick enough that my shirt hides it for the most part. Although, if anyone checks out my ass, they’ll notice. I’ll have to be careful.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment. I can’t tell if he disapproves or not. He threads his fingers with mine and pulls me with him as he walks toward the guy harassing us.

“Dude, I never thought I’d see the day where River would be making out with some chick in a library,” the guy says as we approach him. His gaze slides to mine. “Apparently, the rumors about you hooking up with the northsider are true.”

“Obvious. And I think you know that already, considering what happened the other day.” River glares at the guy, not bothering to stop, instead swinging right past him.

The guy narrows his eyes at us, but River ignores him and keeps walking. I angle my body to avoid letting the guy get a glimpse of the book tucked in the back of my pants. I probably look like a freak, but who cares?

I’m unaware of even holding my breath until we arrive at the table where our belongings are. I exhale loudly as River places a hand on the lower section of my back and dips his lips toward my ear.

“Are you planning on taking that book out of the library?”

“I was,” I whisper under my breath. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, but I …” He trails off, shifting his weight as he leans back.

I assess him. “You’ve never stolen anything before, and you’re nervous.” It’s not a question but a statement. “Obviously, why would you ever take anything?” I wink at him. “Don’t worry, gothic prince. My sticky northside fingers got this.”

He shakes his head, on the verge of smiling. “You’re so feisty.”

“And you so love it.” I grab my trash and throw it into a nearby bin. When he doesn’t argue, I flash him a smirk. “Your silence means you agree.”

He remains silent again with a smile on his face. Then, with a quick brush of his fingers across my cheek, he grabs his bag and says, “Come on; let’s get out of here. I don’t like that James is here, watching us.”

I walk beside him as we make our way toward the exit. “You mean that guy you were talking to back there.” I hitch my thumb over my shoulder as we pass by the receptionist’s desk.

The woman behind it smiles at River, but she eyes me suspiciously. If she suspects I’m stealing a book, she doesn’t say anything. I wonder if she does and remains quiet because of who I’m with.

River nods to answer my question while flattening his palm against the door. “He’s a friend of Eli’s. He’s not as bad as Eli, but he’s definitely someone we don’t want to be around, mainly because he’s connected to the …” He pauses as he opens the door. He waits for me to walk outside then follows, letting the door click shut behind us. “The society,” he says in a hushed whisper as he scans the stairway in front of the building and the grassy areas around it. His back is stiff, and he has his hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Afraid one of the members is hiding in a bush or something?” I question with an arched brow.

“You never know,” he mutters then nods for me to follow as he starts down the stairs “Let’s get out of here.”

I nod, more than ready to go, too.

On the drive back to River’s house, we make a plan to visit northside. While we discuss this, I skim-read through the book I stole, seeking answers. And boy, do I find them.

“I feel bad for this Everford family,” I mumble as I turn another page. “They had this whole positive, violence-free lifestyle, and these other powerful families used that against them. At least, they did back in the day.” I close the book, needing a break from the gloominess of it. “They hunted them like deer, with bows and arrows. That was a hundred years ago, so I’m unsure how it continued until the seventies. I’m going to guess that the murdering of the family members was done in a much more discreet way.”

River has both his hands resting on top of the steering wheel, his visor is down, and he has a pair of sunglasses on due to the brightness eclipsing the cloudless sky. The stereo is playing an old-school song by the Cranberries, a band my aunt is obsessed with.

“I think I need to talk to my mother,” River says, surprising me.

I close the book and set it on the floor beside my feet. “Why?”

“Because she might know something about this, and it should be safe to talk to her about it. I don’t necessarily want to tell her why I’m looking into it,” he stresses with a side glance at me. “I can just tell her it’s for a school paper or something.”

“Are you sure it’s safe? I mean, I know we don’t know for sure if the Everfords have anything to do with me, but …” My words fade as he places a hand on my knee.

“I would never do anything to put you at risk.” The muscle in his jaw spasms. “Not intentionally, anyway. If I had known the society was going to haze me by using you, I’d have found another way for us to protect you.”

His hand on my leg is consuming most of my thoughts, but I manage to speak in an even tone. “What happened to me wasn’t your fault. The society was already planning on doing stuff to me, anyway.”

“That might be true, but if I’d been more cautious about the plan of us fake dating, maybe talk to some people in the society, I may have picked up on what they were going to do to you.” He turns into the driveway of his apartment building, stopping in front of the barricade that’s in front of the entrance to the parking garage.

A light flickers on it, and then the bar begins to lift.

“Well, if I hadn’t sent Noah to northside, you wouldn’t have been hurt.”

“Maddy, that’s not?—”

“No more blaming ourselves, okay?” I cut him off with a challenging lift of my brow.

Wetting his lips with his tongue, he nods as he shifts gears and drives forward. “All right, deal.”

My smile is genuine, and it feels nice to feel marginally upbeat. That feeling continues as River parks the car. But as we climb out, my mood plummets because we’re not heading into the building. We’re heading for the exit so we can walk to the bus stop, where we will take the bus to visit my mother. While I want the truth, I have zero desire to see her.

“Are you doing okay?” River asks as he walks beside me along the sidewalk.

The gentle, sun-kissed breeze dances across my flesh and through my hair, yet I wrap my arms around myself, as if I’m cold. “I’m fine.”

He quietly sighs then inches toward me and slides an arm around my back. “It’s okay not to be fine. Trust me; I get wanting to pretend you’re okay twenty-four seven, but I’m learning that sometimes it’s okay not to be okay.”

“I know.” I press into him as we reach the corner of the sidewalk. As he pushes the button for the crosswalk, I add, “I’m nervous about seeing my mother. She’s a lot to deal with and … I’m worried how she’ll handle you being there.”

He angles his head toward me. “You think she won’t like it?”

“No, I think she will like it. I think she’ll get excited because she’ll think I’m dating a royal, and she’ll try to use that to her advantage. And by that, I mean she’ll try to hustle you out of something.”

“I won’t let her.”

“I know that, but it’s embarrassing.” As the light changes, we walk forward, crossing the street.

“You shouldn’t be. You’re nothing like your mom.” He steers us right as we arrive on the other side of the street.

“You still think that after seeing me steal that book?” I question, leaning into him as we swing around a crowd of people.

“Yeah. I don’t mind that you took it.” He slips his arm further around me until his fingers are curling around my hip. “It needed to be done.”

The air builds with energy the farther we endeavor into the city. The stores and shops lining the street are crowded.

“Is it always this busy?” I wonder as we dodge around another crowd.

“Sometimes.” He urges me closer until my body is rotated and my chest is pressed against his side as the mob thickens. It’s a protective gesture, and I have no fucking clue how to react. Protectiveness isn’t something I understand or have ever experienced. Half of my mind shouts for me to move away while the other half begs to hold onto him—hold onto that safety.

My mental tug-o-war results in me latching onto his shirt and allowing him to get us past the mob and to the corner where the bus station is. The waiting area is inside a building with windows, and a notification sign shows the buses arrival and departure times.

River and I only have to wait a few minutes before our bus rolls up. Since this bus is from northside, it’s dingier on the exterior, the metal seats inside are worn, and the air smells salty and sweaty.

River radiates uneasiness, but he doesn’t remark about the condition of the bus as we take a seat toward the back. The engine hums as the bus drives forward. The ride will be about thirty minutes, and for about the first ten, River and I remain quiet. Some of the seats are occupied, but the closer we get to our destination, the more they fill up. A younger couple ends up in the seats in front of us, and they start making out.

I turn my head toward the window, trying to ignore them.

I assume River will too, but instead, he mutters, “What do you think it’s like?”

I tilt my head toward him, my brows pulling together. “What is what is like?” I notice the direction of his stare is on the couple who are now tangled together in a heated makeout session.

He rakes his teeth along his bottom lip as his gaze falls to his wrist, where he’s fiddling with his watch band, something he does frequently. “To just kiss someone without feeling the pressure of obligation.”

“It’s probably nice,” I say quietly. “To be honest, I haven’t really made out with a ton of people, so I’m probably not the best person to ask.”

His gaze elevates to me then, question marks flooding his eyes. “I know you said you don’t date, but has there ever been someone who’s almost made you reconsider that?”

Dammit, I don’t like that question. It makes me squirm.

I rub my eye, mostly as an excuse to look away from him when I confess, “You, obviously, since you’re the only guy I’ve ever made out with. I mean, in like a real makeout session.” I could’ve lied, but that’s never been my style, unless I’m trying to get out of trouble.

Silence stretches between, and then I feel his fingers brush through my hair. Why does it have to be like this? Why does he have to be a royal? A betrothed royal?

Why do I have to want him so badly?

My heart pumps fiercely, sending desire through my veins. I haven’t ever felt this way before, and I know before I even turn my head that I’m about to do something stupid. I just don’t care.

Without warning, I seal my lips to his.

He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose before slipping his fingers around to cup the back of my head. Then he parts my lips with his tongue and devours me, tugging on my hair and tipping my head back.

I bite back a groan but slide my leg over his lap. A breath falters from his lips as he pulls back, leaving a sliver of an inch between our mouths.

“Are you okay with this?” he whispers.

I nod, and then he kisses me before I can even decipher the meaning behind my willingness to kiss him.

We continue to kiss for the entire drive with my leg hitched over his lap. Every so often, his hand lands on my leg, and he’ll brush his fingers along the outside of my thigh. Sometimes he places his palm on my side, and his thumb grazes across the spot of flesh peeking out between the hem of my shirt and the waistband of my jeans. My skin erupts with tingles every time he does it, and this throbbing need begins to build inside my body, slowly at first, but it swells into something agonizing the longer he continues to touch me and explore me with his lips.

The feeling becomes so overwhelming that I break the connection of our lips. My lungs heave as I struggle to get oxygen in them.

River rests his forehead against mine, breathing as heavily. “Is it too much?”

“No and yes,” I whisper, highly aware that one of my hands is cupping the side of his neck and the other his wound-free side. “I just … I’m …” I grimace at my nervousness. I hate feeling this way, so screw it. I’ll say how it is. “I’m feeling about one step away from going to that place I went to when we made out on your sofa.”

A crease forms between his brows. ”What?”

I sigh heavily. “I’m getting too turned on.”

An older guy sitting in a seat across from us glances at me, a creepy grin curling at his lips.

River glares at him. “Stop fucking looking at her.”

As sweet as River is, he looks intense, and that’s enough to get the man to look away.

“Pervert,” River mumbles, looking back at me. I smile, and he frowns puzzledly. “Why are you smiling?”

“No reason.” I shrug, my smile still lighting up my face. “I’ve just never had anyone stand up for me before. I usually do it myself. Although, I don’t always get that kind of compliant response.”

His frown deepens. “I don’t like that you’ve had to deal with that.”

“I don’t either,” I agree. “But we both have our own issues we’ve had to deal with. They’re just on vastly different ends.”

The reminder of his impending arranged marriage rises between us like a thorny weed. But River chooses to diffuse this, slanting forward until his lips are brushing the shell of my ear.

“I turn you on too much, huh?” He sounds equal parts amused and nervous, I think because the subject is a bit new to him.

Me, too.

“Obviously,” I whisper. “You’re like the first guy who’s ever done that.”

He goes still, something I feel underneath the palm of my hand that’s resting on his side. “I’m the first person who’s turned you on?”

I could stop this. It’s spiraling fast. But I can’t bring myself to. The more time I spend with him, the harder it is to set boundaries.

“And push me over the edge,” I whisper into his ear.

I like the breath that fumbles from his lips a little too much.

He turns his head, dips his mouth to mine, and kisses me softly, and then he gently bites my lip. The whimper that leaves my mouth has his nostrils flaring. If the bus hadn’t jolted to a stop at that precise moment, I’m unsure how heavy our next kissing session would’ve been. A drop of relief trickles through me that we were interrupted, but honestly, I feel more annoyed and flustered than anything else.

“This is our stop,” I tell River as I push to my feet, ignoring the wobbliness of my legs.

He stands and steps into the main aisle, offering me his hand. I lace my fingers through his and trail after him as he guides us to the front of the bus. He offers the driver a polite smile. I’m noticing he does that a lot, and I wonder if it’s a trait he’s learned—politeness. It’s a foreign concept to me. I’m not saying that northside is full of a bunch of rude assholes, but living in poverty where the crime rate is high brings out survival instincts that require being not so polite all the time.

Once we step out onto the curb, River scans the dingy buildings that line the trash-littered streets. “Which way is your house?” he asks.

I tug on his arm. “This way.”

He holds onto my hand as I pull him toward the curb where a man is standing with a bag slung over his shoulder. He looks worn down from life, his shoulders curved in, his skin stained with dirt, and his clothes torn. But a lot of people around here mirror him.

“I’ve never been here during the day,” River mutters after we’ve crossed the street. “The darkness masks a lot of the sadness, doesn’t it?”

“You sound like a poet,” I remark as I steer us past a few stores then veer down an alleyway. “But yeah, the darkness does hide a lot. Although, it allows monsters to come out, too.”

We reach the end of the alleyway then and step out onto the parking lot in front of my mother’s apartment complex. I start to step forward, but River clasps onto my hand and draws me back toward him.

I glance at him confusedly. “What’s up?”

He shifts his weight. “I’m a little nervous about what Drew said to me. What if there’s other people after you, and they’re waiting around, looking for you?”

“I already told you there’s always someone looking for me, thanks to my father being a traitor, but it won’t be the same as a bounty being put on me.” I hope, anyway.

Skepticism remains in River’s expression, but he doesn’t protest as I start forward again. He remains close, on high alert, looking at the parking lot, at the vehicles in it, and at the few people loitering around. Then he fixes his attention on the apartment as we near it.

Instead of walking in, I summon a breath and knock. When no one answers, I try again before pushing the door open. I’m aware right away that something isn’t right by the bareness of the room.

“What the heck?” I step over the threshold and flip the light switch, but the light doesn’t come on. That’s nothing new—my mom constantly forgets to pay the power bill. But what is new is nothing is here except for the sofa and coffee table, and they were already here when we moved in.

When it dawns on me what’s happening, reality crashes over me like a goddamn roaring wave.

“What’s wrong?” River asks as I wiggle my hand from his grasp and jog across the living room.

I don’t respond, throwing my bedroom door open. To my relief, most of my stuff is still there. But then, when I push the door to my mother’s bedroom open, the wave nearly knocks me down.

I stare at her empty bedroom with my mouth hanging open.

“She moved out.”

“What?” He moves up behind me, his warmth and intoxicating scent bringing me a little comfort, but not much. “Jesus … Did she never mention this to you?”

I shake my head. “Nope, but I’m not surprised. She probably either couldn’t pay rent or she pissed the wrong person off and had to go into hiding.”

I enter the bedroom and peer around for some sort of clue as to what could’ve possibly happened. A few items are left behind—a couple of boxes, a blanket, and a lamp. I head to the boxes and open one up. Inside are a few photos and papers.

I pluck a photo out and can’t help smiling a bit. It’s of me as a baby, and my aunt is holding me. She looks happy as she smiles down at me, sitting in a chair outside, beneath the sunlight in a nicely landscaped yard I don’t recognize. I wonder who took the photo. Maybe my mother?

I set the photo down and open the other box. So many papers are stuffed into this one. When I rummage around, I realize the papers are actually bank transaction receipts.

“What the hell?” Confusion webs through me in a tangled mess. The sum of money being deposited in these bank accounts is insane. And it doesn’t list a name on the account.

“Did she steal someone else’s bank records?” I mutter as I sit down on the floor.

River comes over and crouches beside me. “What is it?”

“Bank records for an account that has a ton of money in it.” I hand him one of the papers then grab another stack, one of which is a deed to a house with my aunt’s name listed on it. “What the hell is going on? One of these says my aunt owns some house on the border of northside, which is one of the nicest areas here.”

“Maybe it’s an investment she made?” River offers, taking the paper from me.

I glance at him. “Why does my mother have the deed, then?”

His brows knit as he scans the paper. “I have no idea.”

“Maybe it’s a fake.”

“If it is, it’s flawless.”

“Have you seen a deed before?”

He nods absentmindedly. “I have them for the properties I own.”

I blink. “You own properties ?”

He visibly tenses, his gaze landing on mine. “Yeah, my parents gave all of us a few. Some of them are just land, but I do own a condo and also a house that has a bunch of acreage.”

All I can do is gape at him. Sure, I’m aware that River’s family is crazy wealthy, but he can’t even legally buy alcohol, yet he owns condos, houses, and land?

“Please don’t stop kissing me because of this,” he utters softly.

“What?” Shock whisks through me. “Why would you think I’d do that?”

“Because whenever the wealthy part of my life comes up, you pull away. Like when the paparazzi was taking photos of us. Not that I don’t get it—it’s a lot to deal with. So, if you want to stop kissing me, I’ll understand, but I really don’t want you to.” He’s rambling, and it’s so cute.

He’s so cute.

Why does he have to be so cute?

“We can still kiss,” I assure him. “We’re fake dating, anyway, and that requires kissing.”

He massages the back of his neck. “Isn’t it more than that? I mean …” His hand falls to his side. “I know my future is murky, and I get if you don’t want to deal with that, but I think—I know—that I’d like to date you for real.” Before I can even try to work up some kind of response, he quickly adds, “Can you think about it for a bit? I don’t want to pressure you, and I know it’s asking a lot, so … Yeah, take your time. Unless it’s a hard no for you.”

I should reply that it is. Dating him would be walking straight into a mess. Take, for example, the phone call he received from his father yesterday. River’s family won’t approve of our dating. Well, his parents won’t. Lily and Finn will be okay with it. In fact, Lily wants it to happen.

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” My heart literally skips a beat at the incandescent smile he gives me.

He opens his mouth then snaps it shut at the sound of the front door closing.

“Yeah, I’m here,” a deep voice comes from the living room.

I snag a hold of River’s hand and yank him with me as I scramble into the closet and shut the door as quietly as possible. The space is small, dark, and reeks of cigarettes. I’m standing so close to River that our bodies are pressed together.

“Who do you think it is?” he whispers, slipping an arm around my back.

“I’m not sure,” I whisper back. “But, more than likely, someone who knows my parents. And trust me; we don’t want them to know we’re here.” Especially considering River radiates royalty.

“What exactly am I looking for?” the man asks from somewhere in the house. “A necklace? Why the hell do you want a necklace? Is it worth something?” A pause. “Well, holy shit, who knew Eva was sitting on such a big secret?”

River holds me against him, his breathing increasing. My anxiety matches his.

Are they looking for the necklace I have? That has to be it. But what secret do they know my mother is hiding? The possible truth tauntingly whispers in my ear. I may be an Everford. I’m unsure how, but it’s seeming more plausible with each clue we find.

River and I remain frozen where we are as the guy begins sifting through stuff—the boxes, I’m assuming. Worry begins to stir inside me that he might try to look in the closet since the necklace isn’t out there. My heart is like thunder in my chest, a warning before a lightning strikes.

And about a handful of seconds later, it does as the door swings open. The guy standing on the other side isn’t what I expected. He’s dressed in a suit, a button-down shirt, and a gold chain dangles around his neck. His shoes look expensive, and so does the odd ring on his finger. It’s bulky and old with a ruby encrusted into the center. It’s what I note before I do what I do next—shove the guy before he can even process what’s happening, slamming my palms against his chest pretty hard. He grunts as he stumbles, staggers back, and ends up tripping over the boxes.

“Run!” I shout at River while snatching a hold of his hand.

We take off in a sprint, barreling out the door and into the parking lot. I hear someone shouting from behind us, but I don’t slow down until we reach the patch of trees that enclose the path behind the apartment complex.

Once we’re there and I’m sure no one is following us, I come to a halt. The branches offer us shelter from the surroundings of the city, but I still endeavor deeper into the trees and off the path.

“Holy crap, Mads,” River says as twigs and leaves snap under our shoes. “You just shoved that guy so damn hard.”

“It was instinctive,” I tell him as I tug him farther into the trees and shrubbery. Only when I feel satisfied that we’re hidden do I stop. Then I turn to face him. ”I don’t know what he would’ve done if I hadn’t, but it probably would’ve sucked.”

He grazes the back of his hand across my cheek. “You’re kind of a badass.”

His comment is unexpected, and I end up staring at him stupidly. But then I hastily recover.

“I thought that was already established a while ago.” I smile, but it promptly fades. “What the heck is going on? Why is that necklace becoming such a pain in the ass when I’ve owned it for years?”

“I’m not sure.” He shifts his weight as he dazes off with a frown. Then he looks at me. “Do you know that guy?”

“No.” I drag my fingers through my hair. “And I don’t think he was from northside either—his clothes and jewelry were too nice.”

“He didn’t look royal either.”

“He was wearing a very distinctive ring. I wonder if he’s like the mafia or something.”

“Didn’t most of those organizations get broken up during that raid of the city like a decade ago?”

I give him a tolerant pat on the arm. “Oh, sweet, na?ve River, just because the police tell you something doesn’t mean it’s true.”

He gives me a hardy har har look, to which I respond with a cheeky grin. But that promptly deflates.

“What am I going to do?” I sink down onto a log. “I need to get the rest of my stuff out of the apartment before the landlord tosses it. And I want to get those boxes my mom left. I don’t know if they mean anything, but I have this feeling I should take them.” I lower my head into my hands. “Sometimes I really miss the days when my biggest concern was getting jumped on the way home from work.”

River crouches down in front of me, fixes his finger under my chin, and angles my head back up so I’m looking at him. “I know you said you don’t want me to drive a car over here, but I have a big SUV that we can use to load your stuff up. And then there’s this storage space at the condo that we can put everything in. It’s in the basement, and the door has a lock. It comes with our place, but my parents don’t use it. And before you give me this big speech on not wanting my help with this, it doesn’t cost anything extra. It’s just there, being wasted.”

He’s catching on to how I work, and I’m unsure how I feel about that.

“I’m not sure how I feel about your SUV being parked in front of the apartment. It’ll draw attention.”

“So? It’ll only be for a bit. We can bring Finn with us, too.”

I arch a brow. “What is Finn? Like your muscle?” I tease.

He narrows his eyes at me, but the corners of his pretty lips tug upward. “I have muscle.”

I grin. “I know, but you’re leaner, and Finn is bulkier. Not huge, but he’s a football player, so he kind of has to be bigger.” I’m rambling and totally putting my foot in my mouth. I can tell he’s kind of upset with the way he gets all twitchy. “I like your type of muscle,” I add. Then, without thinking too much about it, I drag my hand down the front of his shirt. “It’s nice.”

He visibly shudders then captures my hand as it reaches the bottom of his shirt. “Nice, as in good?”

I nod, feeling a bit shivery myself. “Very nice and good.” Then I slip my fingers underneath the hem of his shirt. And he lets me, his breathing quickening as I trace the lines of his lean muscles, which go taut under my touch. But I’m careful of his bandage, a reminder of everything he’s done for me.

“Maddy,” he breathes out as he lowers his forehead to mine. His breath feathers across my face as he closes his eyes, places a hand on my side, and skims his finger along the sliver of flesh peeking out between the hem of my shirt. “If you keep touching me like this, I’ll have a harder time remembering the fake dating part of our situation.”

Me, too, River. Me, too.

I may have continued to explore his muscles if it weren’t for the sounds of voices that suddenly fill the air. Thankfully, it’s just a couple of guys taking the path as a shortcut, and they don’t even notice us. The moment is ruined, though. For better or for worse, I’m not sure.

“Come on; let’s get this taken care of, okay?” River says as he pushes to his feet and offers me his hand.

I know what he’s secretly asking. Will you let me help you?

In the end, I take his hand because what other choice do I have? I need to get my stuff and my hands on those boxes so I can figure out what the hell is going on.