that I'd take care of you, and I meant that, so don't worry about things. Let me worry. You just keep being you."
"I wanna help, though. I wanna do my part."
"You already are," he said, pulling her to him, his hand pressing against her stomach. "You're doing your part, Genna."
"Don't try that sexist shit out on me," she said, poking him in the chest. "I won't be one of those barefoot, pregnant, and in the kitchen kind of women."
"Thank God for that," he said, his expression serious. "The kitchen is the last place you ought to be hanging out in."
Genna rolled her eyes, pushing away from him, and strolled down the aisle. Nothing else was said about it as they went through the rest of the store, covering every base, the cart close to overflowing. When they reached the register, Matty tossed everything up on the conveyer belt as Genna grabbed a soda from the small, refrigerated case. She unscrewed the cap, sipping on the Coke and watching their bill mount.
Matty glanced at her, raising his eyebrows. "Your soda."
She held it out toward him. "You want some?"
"I want to pay for it."
"Oh."
She let the cashier scan it before taking another sip. Matty paid their total with a thick stack of cash and led her from the store, to the truck baking in the blistering sun out in the parking lot. Genna tried to help with the bags but Matty waved her away.
Sighing, Genna climbed into the cab of the truck and kicked off her shoes, propping her feet up on the cracked dashboard. The heat made it hard to breathe, the air hazy, her clothes sticking to her skin. After loading the bags onto the rusty truck bed, Matty climbed in beside her.
The engine rumbled when he started it, the truck violently shaking before shutting right off. He had to turn the key three times to get it to stay cranked.
"I don't think this truck is going to last very long," she warned.
"It'll be fine," he said, a hint of aggravation in his tone as he raised his voice. "Just stop worrying."
Genna stayed quiet as they drove back to the motel. She didn't offer to help then, knowing he would refuse her again. Instead, she went straight to the bathroom and tore off her grubby clothes before climbing into the shower. The icy cold water stung her skin, making her shiver as it pelted her full-blast. No hot water. Awesome.
Closing her eyes, Genna leaned back against the shower wall and slid down into the tub. She bent her legs, wrapping her arms around them, as she rested her cheek against her knee. Tears stung her eyes, streaming down her cheeks, the lump in her throat making it hard to breathe.
Genna's entire world had been turned around and she didn't know which way was up anymore. Where was she going? What was she doing? She had left it all behind, everything she had ever known gone, and there was no going back. Her life, gone forever, leaving her a semblance of a person she only vaguely recognized.
And that terrified her.
The swell of emotion overwhelmed her, swallowing her in darkness, as she sat in the tub and sobbed. She got so lost in the moment that she didn't hear the door open, didn't hear the heavy footsteps through the bathroom.
The shower curtain yanking open startled her. Alarmed, she sat up with her back straight, her eyes meeting Matty's as she shivered. He gazed down at her, the vibrant blue shadowed by exhaustion. Genna hoped the water washed away evidence of her tears but his sorrowful sigh and the deepening of his frown suggested otherwise.
Reaching over, Matty turned off the water and grabbed a white threadbare towel. Wordlessly, he wrapped it around her as he helped her to her feet. He pulled her into his arms and carried her back into the room, laying her down in the bed.
Matty held her, his arms wound around her, as her tears came out full-force again. She cried herself way past exhausted, falling into a deep, torturous sleep, her mind refusing to shut down even though her body had long ago threw in the towel on consciousness.
Images flashed in her mind, brutal memories pelting her, ripping her right back to that moment, back to the city. Blood red paint glistened under the streetlight, sparkling like a stunning ruby. The neighborhood was still—too still, in fact. It was as if someone had pressed pause on the universe.