Page 76 of Forsaken Trail (Runaway 4)

At fifteen. Fuck. They had to have been terrified.

“We waited for hours after his footsteps retreated from the door, just in case. Then when we were sure he was gone, we pushed every piece of furniture against the door. By morning, we’d shoved the backpacks and supplies out of the tiny bedroom window, then squeezed out ourselves.”

All these years I’d known Aria. All these years I’d worked with Clara. And I hadn’t really known them at all.

Aria’s strength was humbling.

“Clara and I walked hand in hand to the junkyard, and that was it,” she said. “We found the delivery truck and made it our home. We did what we could for money until we were old enough to get jobs. We stayed far away from the school and the trailer park. If we saw someone we knew, we didn’t tell them where we were living because we were all scared the cops might stumble upon our makeshift home and take us away. By some miracle, it worked. We survived. Together. The six of us leaned on each other. And we survived.”

Aria. Clara. I’d underestimated them both.

Later, when my temper had cooled, I’d find out about the uncle. I’d find out if he was still alive. I wasn’t going to ask if she’d kept tabs on the motherfucker.

“I’m sorry.” I kissed her knuckles. “I don’t . . . I don’t know what else to say.”

“There’s nothing to say. It’s in the past. I want it to stay in the past.”

“Then we won’t talk about it again.”

“Brody . . . the cradle. The nanny. You do it because you want to help. But I need to earn things. I need to know they are mine.”

“They are yours.”

“No, they’re not. They’re gifts.”

“What’s wrong with gifts?”

She stared at me, searching for the right words. When she found them, her gaze softened. “I went for so long wondering what was going to happen. I have spent so long relying only on myself.”

“And now you have me.”

“Brody, I know this seems strange. I know Clara can take a gift and say thank you. I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because tomorrow it might be gone. If I earn it myself, then maybe it won’t disappear.”

In that single sentence, it all made sense. She was protecting herself. She was insulating herself from heartbreak. If she counted on me and I left her . . . “I won’t leave you, Aria.”

“You might.”

“Never.”

Not when I was falling for her.

She closed her eyes and collapsed into my chest.

I wrapped my arms around her and kissed the top of her hair. “I’ll always take care of you. Let me. Please.”

“Make me a part of it. Share it. Please?”

“Okay.” I kissed her hair again, holding her for a few precious minutes. Then I stood from the bed, her dainty hand tucked firmly in my grasp. “Come on.”

Aria stood too. “Where are we going?”

“Dinner. Bed.”

“Not yet.” She dropped my hand to snake her arms around my waist. Her fingers dove into the back pockets of my jeans and she squeezed my ass. Hard. “Did you wear these jeans because you thought it would make me less angry at you?”