Make Me Bad - R.S. Grey Page 0,7

being held at gunpoint.

I only have her hand in mine for a brief moment before she jerks away and scans the ground again, confirming she has all her stuff.

“You’re not hurt. Are you?” I ask. “You never answered me earlier.”

She shakes her head even as her free hand reaches up to touch her hair. When she pulls it away, there’s blood on her fingers. She sees me staring and clears her throat. “It’s nothing, just a little cut from where he was holding the…”

Her sentence trails off, her gaze still on her bloody fingers, and I think she’s going to pass out or throw up. Clearly, the shock is starting to wear off.

“We should call the cops.” I got a decent enough look at the guy even with his mask on. I can recall his height and build and the direction he ran, at the very least.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll just tell my dad when I get home. Thank you for your help.”

“You still live with your dad?” Jesus, I didn’t think she was a kid, but maybe I’m wrong.

She must take my surprise for judgment because she lifts her chin proudly. “Yeah, it’s just easier with rent and all that.”

I feel like a jerk.

“Of course. Yeah, I get it. Is your dad’s house close by?” I say, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my suit pants. Even with the residual adrenaline in my veins, the cold air is starting to get harder to ignore.

“Just a few blocks. Listen, I can’t thank you enough for stepping in when you did. I’m not sure that guy would have hurt me, but still…” She shakes away the thought and glances up, her gaze meeting mine a bit unsteadily. “You probably saved my life, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.”

With that, she nods just once then turns to walk away.

I scowl.

She’s leaving? She thinks I’m going to let her walk home alone after all this? There’s a good chance that guy is still in the area.

I watch her until she reaches the end of the block and is about to cross the street. Then she suddenly stops, turns, and glances back at me, worrying her lip between her teeth before she speaks. “Actually…I know you’re probably busy what with all the street fighting and heroic deeds you have going on, but would you mind…maybe…walking me home?” Her brows scrunch together with her request and she speeds up her words, trying to rush out her reassurances. “It’s really not that far, I promise. I could just call my dad to come pick me up, but—”

“Yes, of course.”

I start to walk toward her, but then something catches my attention on the ground, and I squint, trying to discern if it’s something she left behind on accident or if it’s just a piece of trash.

“Oh,” she says, seeing it.

“It’s a birthday candle,” I say quietly.

Huh. I bend down to retrieve it and when I glance back over, I see her cheeks burning bright red as she turns and pins her gaze across the street.

Of course, I should have thought of it earlier when I saw the crumpled gift bag.

“It’s your birthday?”

She keeps her attention elsewhere, almost like she’s embarrassed to admit it. “My twenty-fifth.”

“What a way to spend a birthday…” I mumble under my breath.

I catch up to her and hold out the candle. She takes it and shoves it into her coat pocket like she wants to be rid of it.

“For what it’s worth, happy birthday.”

She laughs like it’s the most preposterous thing I could have said, and we start to walk. I offer to carry some of her things, but she insists she doesn’t need the help.

“So you’ll have your dad call the police when you get home?”

For some reason, that question makes her smirk. “Sure, I’ll have him call right away.”

I don’t know why she’s being cavalier about this. Her life was just at stake. There’s a criminal on the loose, and she’s not calling the cops. Why isn’t she calling the cops?

We turn a corner and keep walking past the manicured lawns and old Victorian mansions renowned around Clifton Cove. Real estate here is extremely expensive. Everyone wants to be within walking distance of the shops and restaurants, not to mention all the wealthy tourists who visit once and then decide they want to purchase a vacation home here. More than anything, they’re the ones driving up demand.

If Madison grew up around here, she likely went to the same