Sweet (True Believers #2)(4)
Author: Erin McCarthy

The kid looked at me like I was a complete moron. “If you want to get off, you have to pull.” He reached over and yanked on a laundry line–type cord above the windows and I immediately heard a ding.

“Oh.” Duh. Guess the driver wasn’t psychic. “Thanks.” The bus started to slow down, so I started to tug my bags into the aisle, regretting the “Stop following me. Follow Jesus.” sticker Kylie had bought for me as a joke and slapped on the front of my suitcase.

For some reason, I expected the kid to offer to help, since he was so clearly interested in flirting with me. But he actually slipped around my bag like it was a nothing more than an obstacle, even as it fell sideways into the opposite seat. His friend followed him. The bus stopped, and I stumbled forward as I managed to haul both bags down the aisle, yelling, “I’m getting off at this stop!” to the bus driver in case he didn’t glance back.

He glared at me in his large rearview mirror, obviously impatient with how long it was taking for me to exit.

“Thanks,” I said, breathless, basically falling down the stairs in an avalanche of hair and luggage. Once on the curb, I readjusted so I could pull each bag with one hand and tried to ignore the fact that the two teenagers were just standing there on the corner, looking in no particular hurry to go anywhere, belts barely holding up their pants, arms already sporting a couple of tattoos. It was hot on the sidewalk, the air a humid mix of gas fumes from the bus and a chicken restaurant. The back of my neck got damp as I started walking.

Immediately, I knew the boys were following me. So I paused and pulled out my phone, confirming the direction I was going in. Then I took a gamble and called Riley, propping the phone on my shoulder so I could keep walking. I didn’t think he would answer, because I didn’t know any guy who answered his phone, but I was starting to get weirded out. The neighborhood was what I had expected, and while it didn’t seem anything other than a little tired and lower income, I felt very obvious as an outsider. There were empty shops, a dingy restaurant, a tattoo parlor, a Check ’n Go kiosk, and potholes the size of a Volkswagen Beetle in the road. On the side street I turned down, the houses were close together, small, some of them run down. If anyone had grass, it was burned out, brown and dusty, or it was a breeding ground for pricker weeds. Some were as high as my knees as I trudged down the sidewalk, my purse bumping my breast with each step.

Riley actually answered. “Hello.”

“Hey! It’s Jessica. Um, I’m almost at your house. I, uh, took the bus, and I’m on your street and well . . .”

I could practically hear his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “You took the bus?”

“Yeah. And I think these dudes are following me,” I murmured in as low of a voice as possible.

“What? Shit.” There was rustling. “Keep walking. I’ll come get you.”

“’K.” I dropped the phone on the sidewalk when I tried to end the call with my finger still hooked around the suitcase handle. Bending down to retrieve it, I looked back at the guys.

One had a baseball hat on sideways, and now that they were off the bus they had both stripped off their T-shirts in the heat. One was tanned, the other glowing so starkly white, utterly hairless, and blinking against the sun, he looked like a baby mole. Now that I knew Riley was just a minute or two away, I felt more irritated than scared.

“Why didn’t your man pick you up?” the one with the hat asked.

I stood up, spotting a car coming up the street. “He is.” Relieved, I saw it was Riley as he pulled up and put the car in park.

Leaving it running, he opened the door and got out. He wasn’t wearing a shirt either, and I shook my head to try to get my sweaty hair out of my eyes, wishing I could fully appreciate his chest. But I was more concerned with getting in the car and away from Beavis and Butt-Head. I was already dragging my bag off the curb when Riley stepped up, barely giving me a nod before grabbing the other one.

“Wassup,” he said casually to the guys, but I could see his shoulders were stiff as he rolled the suitcase behind him and made a point of turning his back on them. They didn’t look like any particular threat to Riley, given he was twice their width, and I felt better.

“Your bitch is fine,” the scrawny one said.

Gee. Now my life was complete. They thought I was attractive. I rolled my eyes as I opened the back door of Riley’s car and shoved my suitcase in.

“Thanks,” was all Riley said. I realized he was gesturing with his left hand for me to go around and get in the car, so I did. He loaded my other bag in the backseat.

Then he stood and spoke to them in a very casual, friendly tone. “If you ever see her walking in the neighborhood again, you cross to the other side of the street, do you understand me? You don’t look at her, you don’t talk to her. Stay at least fifteen feet away from her, or I will f**k your shit up, no questions asked.”

“Hey, we don’t want no trouble,” one of them said, holding up his hands and looking alarmed.

I almost felt bad for them. Almost. But the truth was, their intention had been to harass me, and that was bullshit. A woman should be able to walk on the sidewalk without taking crap.

“Good.” Climbing back in, Riley turned the car around in the nearest driveway, while I yanked my purse off and stuck my right arm out the window to air out.

Lifting my hair off my neck, I twisted it into a knot and tucked it through so it would stay up for at least the drive to the house. “Holy shit, it’s hot out here. Thanks for picking me up.”

“Why the hell were you riding the bus?” Riley glanced over at me, and he was shaking his head in disbelief, amused. “Do you know who rides the bus?”

“Teenage boys and old men who smell like pee?”

“Exactly.” He gave me a small laugh. “Welcome to paradise, Jessica.”

“It wasn’t awful,” I told him, which was true. It had been more unnerving than really horrific. Especially now that I was in his car and in zero danger, the bus didn’t seem that bad at all in hindsight. In fact, I felt a little triumphant that I had managed it on my own. Well, almost my own. I suppose without Riley it might have had a more irritating outcome, but I didn’t think those guys were actually dangerous. Then again, Kylie always told me I downplayed trouble, and I suppose that was true. After all, I was moving into Riley’s house in a sketchy neighborhood when I was supposed to be off building new houses for the financially needy. That was borrowing trouble with my parents, no doubt, if they ever found out.