Page 75 of Bitter Notes
What I don't say is, judging by the non-existent interaction we had with him last night, that I succeeded in impressing him.
"Impress him?" Kieran mumbles with confusion.
I shrug. "No idea. But he seems semi-on board. So we can head to the competition without issue whenever the time comes."
Without issue would be a dream come true. But I’m a realist. At the drop of a dime, my father could change his mind. Not that he has any real say. If I want to leave this place with my life intact, we need to be smart about it.
Kieran snorts, knowing exactly what’s going through my mind. “Right,” he mutters, throwing my phone back to me.
“Looks like we need Pretty Girl to get us more shows so we can keep feeding the fans,” Rad says with a lazy grin, putting a joint between his lips and lighting it. “Speaking of. How was she today?” he asks Callum, who turns a deep shade of red.
“Fine,” he mumbles, settling back on the couch.
“Just fine?” Kieran asks with an ounce of protectiveness leaking into his tone.
Callum snorts and rolls his eyes. “She wasn’t expecting me. I had to force her into my car, and even then….”
“She bitched the whole way?” I gripe, earning a smack to the back of my head.
“Bitch and her do not belong in the same sentence. Have some respect,” Rad says with a frown as I nurse the pulsating pain in the back of my head.
“She was fine,” Callum continues with a stronger voice. “I took her home, and we hung out with her mom for a little while. Then, I took her to the bar for work.”
“She works too goddamn hard,” Kieran mumbles in awe.
I couldn’t agree more. River works herself to the bone day in and day out, looking increasingly more exhausted as the days go on. Sprinkle school she’s putting herself through without help from anyone around her, and she’s killing herself for a better future. Seeing such a young person balance so many things in life is odd. Not only does she work two jobs, but she goes to school and somehow cares for her mother in the process. My heart aches at how much she does for everyone else but never seems to take time for herself. River really does deserve better than four assholes who started by using her for her last name and wanting a better future for themselves. Fuck. How did we get down this fucked up rabbit hole? Guilt gnaws away at my insides, churning my stomach.
“Does she have a car?” I ask, looking around the room as they shake their heads.
“If she had a car, then we wouldn't be able to drive her around or force her to come over,” Rad gripes like a psychopath, grinning at the win.
“Not when we’re around,” Kieran says in agreement. “If she has one, we can fix it as slowly as possible.”
Callum snorts. “I’ll keep taking her anywhere she wants to go,” he mumbles with satisfaction, pride puffing out his chest.
I shake my head at their obsessive tendencies. Jesus. I may have rogue thoughts about fucking her into oblivion, but I’m no caveman.
"Then she doesn't walk alone anymore," I declare, earning nods of approval.
"We're her road to safety!" Rad whoops, throwing his fist in the air.
I sigh when our phones ding, indicating the only other person in our group chat needs us. Anticipation roars through my veins when I dig my phone out of my pocket. My heart rate skyrockets when the words flash across the screen, and I jump to my feet like the others.
River: Fuck. I need your help. Can you meet me at the bar?
Rad: What is it? That fucker again? I’ll rip the skin from his dick, fry it, and shove it down his throat.
I throw him a look, eyeing the cold fury passing over his face. There’s something there he hasn’t told us. Sure, Bradley is the biggest waste of space in the universe. But Rad’s expression says there’s more to River’s story that we don’t know about. Kieran may not have caught on, but I sure have.
River: Wow, ever the romantic. But no… I…you know what? Nevermind. I can handle this.
Kieran: Nice try, River Blue. But we’re already in the car and on our way. We’ll meet you there in twenty minutes.
She thought she could dismiss us with a few words. Yeah, that shit doesn’t fly. Before we know it, we’re in the damn car, flying down the streets of Central City until we pull into the parking lot behind the raging bar. Music spills from every orifice, and people stumble on the sidewalk.
Theworstthingsinlife come in fours. More specifically, the four bumbling idiots I texted out of desperation. Commit me now because I don’t know what ran through my mind when I pressed send. Too bad I can’t take it back. I’d give anything to have a time machine. Then I could go back in time, smack myself over the head, and throw my phone. It’s too late now, though. Here they are, pushing into the bar like wild animals stampeding over anyone who gets in their way.
“Bitch, you’ve got them wrapped around your finger,” Ode leans in awe, watching intently as they stumble through the door with feral looks. “They look like they’re about to rip this place apart for you. My god…” She whistles under her breath, looking at them with disbelief and fanning her face with a nearby menu.