And it was. We just spent mindless hours watching rom-coms, and not once did I wish to be alone. If anything, she saved me from anxiety stressing over everything that had happened in the last few days.
The last few years even.
Our conversations were light and fun, Riley regaling me with tales about her fucked up best friends and fiancé. "Honestly, I don't know how you're alive," I said with a smile, laying my head on the pillow as I turned toward her.
Her laughter this time was soft and filled with the sort of happiness I wasn't sure I'd ever felt, except maybe in a few stolen minutes in a hotel room.
"I'm only alive because of them," she murmured. "I'm the luckiest bitch in the world to have them—not that I'll ever admit to them. And if you tell them I said that, I will vehemently deny it and withhold your cheeseburgers for at least a week."
I chuckled, and fuck if it wasn't genuine. "Your secret is safe with me. Friends before men."
Riley flashed me her perfect, white smile. "Yep. Hoes before bros. We have to stick together and stay strong, or those possessive bastards will have us locked in a room naked for the rest of our lives."
We both paused for a beat, each, no-doubt, thinking non-PG thoughts. "Yeah, still not the best idea," she said with a wide grin.
"But fun."
We laughed briefly before sobering. At this point there was nothing I could do to distract myself any longer, and as dark thoughts washed over me, I tried to stop a small sob from escaping.
“It’s going to be okay,” Riley said, placing her hand on my shoulder.
I shook my head. “Whether that’s true or not, it’s already so fucked up that I have no idea how to move forward from it.”
“Is this the Dylan-and-baby thing?” she asked, relaxing back.
My first instinct was to shake my head, but that wasn’t completely true. “It is partly that. Our last conversation didn’t go very well.”
“He’s not the best communicator,” Riley admitted, and it was such an understatement a snort choked out through my sobs.
“It’s not just Dylan,” I admitted. “When I ran from the camp, this really wonderful human helped me. Ruth.” I didn’t even know her last name, for fuck’s sake. “She was killed by those guys who attacked us. It was my fault, and as much as I’m trying not to dwell on it, because I need to stay calm for my baby,” my voice dropped to a whisper, “I’m drowning in guilt.”
Guilt and pain. Ruth had fought her whole life, and she was tough, amazing, and the strongest person I’d met in a long time. She didn’t deserve her fate. “How the fuck do I live with being the reason a woman died?”
Riley took my hand, but no reassuring words emerged from her. She just held on, and I started to cry because I got why. Nothing she could say would make this better, and I would just have to work through it myself.
“My adoptive parents died because of me,” Riley said, startling me. Her voice was low, tinged with the sort of anger and pain I felt deep inside. “It took me many years and a fuckload of therapy, but I have reached the point where I no longer blame myself. I didn’t kill them. I didn’t do anything wrong. And I reassure myself with the reminder that at least they can no longer be hurt by the evil in the world.”
At this point tears were silently trailing along my cheeks and my body was exhausted.
“You can just mourn her for the wonderful person she was, Brooke,” Riley said. “She wouldn’t blame you for something that wasn’t your fault.”
I swallowed hard. “I think it’s going to take me a lot of years to come to terms with my guilt, but I sure as fuck have no issue with laying the blame directly where it deserves to be. Fucking Blake.”
Riley was about to answer, when a figure appeared in the doorway. Her gun was in her hand in a flash, the softness she’d displayed not a minute ago vanishing. Now she was a hardcore killer who would shoot dead any motherfucker about to threaten us.
Thankfully it was only Ben, hands in the air. "Sorry, ladies. I should have knocked and announced myself."
Riley growled at him, her gun disappearing just as quickly as it’d appeared. "Damn right, Ben. You're just lucky it's not Beck