Page 85 of The Rut in the Road

“Rayn.”

I blinked, surprised, when Raj put one warm hand over the one I’d left lying limp on the kitchen table. I looked over at where he was crouched beside me, his other hand on the back of my chair, a kitchen towel thrown over one shoulder.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I was thinking.” Mason called itgetting lost in my head.

He rose out of the crouch, squeezing my hand as he leaned forward to press a kiss to the undamaged side of my forehead. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he said softly. “Not for any of that.”

“I’m not good at being a person,” I told him.

He laughed softly, running his fingers through my hair. I leaned into the touch, and he pulled me against his hip, his hand continuing its gentle stroking. “Most of us aren’t, really, when you get right down to it,” he said. “We’re all too focused on ourselves to do a good job of being there for other people, and usually too focused on ourselves to let them be there for us, either.”

I sighed.

“Will you let me be there for you?” he asked, gently.

I nodded against his body, and he bent and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you,” he murmured into my hair. “I know you feel like you have to go to work because of everything Ward and Mason have done for you,” he continued. “Even if neither of them would expect you to be there today—but,” he continued,when I drew a breath to object again. “I understand. But I also don’t want you to make yourself sick or slow your healing because of it. That’s why I want to drive you today, okay?”

I nodded again. “Okay.” I could accept that. Iwouldaccept that.

“Can I ask you something?”

I nodded once more.

“Will you—would youliketo come to my place after work tonight?”

I pulled away just far enough to look up at him, surprised. “You want me to come to your… place?” I didn’t know if he had an apartment or a house, so I felt forced into repeating the word he’d used.

“I—I know it’s probably going to have my thoughts all over it,” he said, his tone almost apologetic. “And it’s okay if you don’t?—”

“I do,” I interrupted him, pleased that he wanted me in his space, and a little embarrassed that it had not occurred to me that the reason he hadn’t asked before now was that he was trying to be considerate of me and the fact that his house or apartment might have thoughts I didn’t want to encounter, while my apartment was safe and familiar.

“And it’s okay if you want to put it off, too,” he said, the words running together a little. “I—I didn’t think about how busy October was going to be for you, and I should have asked earlier, and now probably isn’t?—”

“I want to,” I interrupted him again. “Tonight.”

I shifted nervouslyin the back of Raj’s Subaru, keenly aware of the number of people walking along Broad Street. Raj hadchosen Broad because it didn’t go past any of the parks where there were protests scheduled—by the State House, Monroe Park near VCU—but that wasn’t stopping us from passing people on their way to or from them. The one at the State House was pro-Arcanid, objecting to the shifter registry laws and to a few bills that were on the Assembly floor. The one at Monroe was another MFM protest—supporting the legislation, obviously, but also just objecting in general terms to the continued rights of Arcanids and Arc-humans.

“What time were the protests supposed to start?” Ward asked from the front passenger seat.

“Eleven,” Raj answered, the word a little clipped. From where I sat, I could see his golden-brown gaze flickering around, watching the road, the sidewalks, everywhere. “They’re supposed to be done by four.”

It was almost noon. Whether or not they would still be going when we finished—around five, according to the schedule—wasn’t clear. I hoped they would, but I wasn’t optimistic that would actually be true. “What happens if they aren’t?” I asked Raj.

He blew out a breath, his gaze flickering briefly into the rear-view mirror to look at me. “Increased police presence, assuming they haven’t already maxed that out, since once they violate the terms of their permits, violence and property damage become increasingly likely.”

“Do you think this will reach Church Hill?” Ward asked, his voice worried.

“I doubt it,” came the response. “Are you expecting a protest at the séance?”

“No,” Ward replied immediately. “Pearl and Eleanor live in Church Hill, too,” he explained. “If things were going to get nasty, I’d ask them to come stay with us.”

“Ah,” Raj replied, his voice calmer. “I really don’t think so, but if it looks bad when I come back to get you, we can stop there.”

Ward nodded. “Okay, thanks.”

“Of course.”

Ward turned in his seat to look back at me. “Are you sure you’re okay to do this?” he asked me.