Song is Breathe Me by Sia.
I know it's been a long wait, but that's because I've been working on this chapter for a very long time. This thing is like, 3 chapters all in one.
It took a long time to get just right. So please, make sure to comment, vote, follow. Enjoy :)
And also, you should probably not play the song until towards the end of the chapter. For dramatic effect, and all.
"10 minutes," River murmured to me. I spared him a brief glance, half asleep.
Save for a few stops for gas, food, and restrooms, we had been on the road all day...and now it was a few hours into the night. The dashboard clock read 8:50 PM.
Six hours into the drive, I had started to rethink the plan of making a beeline for our home city all in one night. It would have been much more comfortable splitting the trip through a few days.
Nonetheless, we were almost there. It was dark, but I still recognized the roads we snaked through, leaning my head on the window, eyes following the streetlights.
We were both trying not to get tense, but it wasn't really working. You could practically hear the stress in the atmosphere.
The familiar city lights soon surrounded us as we entered the center of town. I looked over at River, sitting up straight and pulling my hair behind my back. The dim light made his eyes glow when he looked back at me. His gaze was even, calm, and serious.
"Alright, we're about four blocks away from Presley's apartment. Do you have your gun?"
I nodded.
"Good. Keep a hand on that while we walk. You other hand stays in mine, the whole time, Viva. You need to stay close to me in case someone's there. Okay?"
I nodded again, expecting that. "Got it."
Satisfied, he tilted the corners of his lips up in a smile, before turning to look out of his window, worried. "Let's be quick. I doubt anyone is waiting to follow us, but you never know. Presley says his door is unlocked."
I snorted. "Does he always leave it unlocked?" I watched the street next to us, cars and people moving by.
To be honest, my nerves were on fire; very unlike me. But for years, in every situation, I was the one doing the hunting. This time, we were the hunted. And right now, we were in the hotspot. This whole city was crawling with gang members, out for our blood.
I felt eyes on me, and turned to River. He was staring at me. His hair looked black in the dark, and his eyes glinted from the streetlights outside. He was looking at me in a way that made my breath catch; soft-eyed, yet with a heart-racing heat.
Before I could ask him, 'what is it?' he leaned forward, making the words die in my throat. Lips an inch away from mine, he brought a hand to my face, running his thumb along my cheek.
He sighed gently, his cool breath fanning my lips. My heart pounded. If I thought my nerves were on fire before, now they were burned out and in heaven.
For a second, he looked like he was going to say something. I held my breath, waiting. Then, without a words, he slowly- ever so slowly -brought his lips to mine.
All at once, my senses forgot everything around us except for him. His lips gently pressed against mine, feather light, like he was afraid to break me. The touch, though barely there, was enough to send my mind spinning.
River pulled away slightly, just enough to look at me. His eyes were soft, tender. My cheeks warmed; he was looking at me like he cared about me more than anything.
Then his eyes clouded over, darkening with a heat and urgency that made my heart stop. I could still feel his kiss on my lips, and suddenly it was like I needed him, as close as possible.
This time I leaned forward.
As soon as I kissed him, he circled an arm around my waist, pulling me closer and returning the kiss hungrily, hurriedly. I tangled my hands in his hair, warm tingles spreading through my body, making my back arch. River ran his hand down my spine, trailing down my thigh, before coming back up to grip my waist.
It was like we were back in his house, the night we left, surrounded by sunset colors. Kissing each other like we were dying.
His lips expertly molded with mine, tracing and tugging. I felt him smile, slipping his hand from my cheek to the back of my neck, pressing me closer to him.
After what felt like hours - or maybe just a few seconds - we pulled apart, just a little, resting our foreheads together. Both of us breathless, he cradled my face in his hands, softly rubbing his thumbs on my cheeks.
"Promise me," he whispered. "Don't do anything stupid. Anything could happen while we're in this city, and it would kill me if anything happened to you. You're weak from anemia, and you're not healed from the gunshot. Please, please, take care of yourself. No matter what happens."
I stared at him, at a loss for words. Did he just say that? It would kill me if anything happened to you.
When I didn't answer, he spoke again. "Viva."
"I promise." I managed to say. He smiled slightly, then quickly captured me in another kiss, lingering, before pulling away again.
Dizzy, I breathed in. "Four blocks?" I asked.
River nodded slightly. "Four blocks."
"Okay. Lead the way."
~~~
"Slow down," I hissed. River ignored me, pulling me along with him through the alleyway. His hand tightly gripped mine, keeping me practically pressed against him, shoulder to shoulder.
River wanted to speedwalk right to Presley's, that much was clear. I could see his reasoning; the faster we're off the streets, the better. However, I thought differently. Excuse me, but if someone is following us, I'd like to know. The right way to walk in a situation like this is at a calm pace, checking the surroundings. Not to book it like a lunatic.
As he dragged us both down the dark street, I watched the shadows, trying to get a good look at everything, but River was making it hard.
"We need to look around us. Stop momma-jogging." I said again, tugging at his hand.
"I'm looking, and there's nothing. We're a street away."
I sighed, matching his pace. After a moment, he snorted. "I don't momma-jog. I don't even know what that is."
I smirked, watching our feet.
"Here." River said after a few seconds. Presley's apartment was across the street, waiting. We quickly cut across the road, opening the door and slipping in.
I led the way to Presley's door, remembering which number it was from when I first came here. With River close behind, I let myself in, hearing River shut and lock the door behind me.
Presley, who had been sitting at his tiny two-person kitchen table, jumped up from his seat. His hair was messy, and he seemed tired, but he smiled when he saw us. "Finally."
"Hey, Presley." I greeted, smiling at him.
"Hey, chickie." He grinned, walking over to us, stooping down to kiss my cheek before walking past me, to River.
Turning, I watched them hug each other, both grinning.
"Look at you, all alive and shit." Presley's Spanish accent crept into his words.
River laughed, patting Presley on the back before moving past us, to the living room. "It's a damn miracle."
"Seriously. How many times did you two get ambushed by them?" Presley and I followed River, me sitting on the couch with River, Presley on the chair next to us.
River and I gave each other a look. "It felt like every day." River answered.
I laughed dryly. For a while, it seemed like every single time we got out of the car we'd be surrounded.
"Well, you're here now. Spending the night, right?" Presley slumped back in his chair, leaning his head back. "God, I'm fucking tired. Bill had me out all night in the next town over."
"Why?" I questioned.
Presley shook his head. "Nothing with you two. Just had to keep watch while a drug trade went through. They were pretty sketchy, so he had a bunch of us surround the club we were at in case they tried to pull something."
He looked us over. "You guys look like crap."
"I know." I said, just as River let out a defensive "hey."
Presley's eyes roamed over our bruised faces. "They got you both good. And I don't know if you've always been that small, Viva, but River, man, you must have lost some weight."
River shrugged. "It's hard to fit eating into this whole road trip."
Presley yawned, leaning his head back again. He waved his hand lazily towards the kitchen. "Oh, right. Kitchen's all stocked up for you guys. And by that, I mean you have a choice between water and Smartfood. Sorry, I'm low on grocery money."
"Food's food." I shrugged, getting up. I reached down, grabbing River's hand and tugging. "Come on, Riv. Big boy gotta eat."
He groaned, laying across the couch instead of getting up. "I've been driving for almost 8 hours. You have to give me at least 5 minutes to relax."
I looked around the room. Both boys were sprawled on the furniture, clearly ready to conk out. I rolled my eyes. "Alright. I'll get the popcorn and water, you nourish and hydrate, and then we'll sleep. Neither of us have eaten anything all day except for gas station peanuts."
"Mm." River nodded, closing his eyes. I made my way to the kitchen, retrieving the food and two bottles of water, before going back and plopping down on the couch, leaning my head against River's shoulder, pressing against him, trying to get his body's warmth; Presley's house was freezing.
Sharing the food and gulping down the water, the three of us chatted quietly, about the gang, and everything that's been going on since me and River left. During our talking, River had noticed that I was chilly, and put his arm around me, pulling me close.
While him and Presley laughed about something, I looked sideways at River, smiling to myself. He must have really missed his best friend; he had brightened up considerably. And Presley was his only friend; they've known each other forever. On Presley's side, even more so. River's been gone, with a gang out for his blood. Presley had no way of knowing whether he'd even see River again.
What's it like, having a best friend? Having someone waiting at home? I had nobody to look forward to seeing, coming back here. I don't know what it's like waiting to see someone, or missing someone. River's always been with me, so there's no time to miss him.
Maybe River's my best friend. Who else would it be?
After catching up, complaining about motels, and retelling the crazy shit we went through while we were gone, Presley went over everything he knew. Bill and the rest haven't said much lately about me and River, and Presley figures it must be because the job is moving more to Gregory, since that section of the gang is closer to where me and River were this morning - it's impossible that they're giving up. The gang doesn't do that.
"I mean, since Riv is Bill's son, he's handling this a bit differently than the others who've ditched the Bloods," Presley explained. He was still slumped in the chair. "But that doesn't mean he's going easy, because he's not. He will kill you, River, if you refuse to come back. As for you, Viva, you're fucked either way."
I nodded, already knowing this. Presley snickered to himself, then remarked, "This is probably the worst case of dads disapproving of their sons' girlfriend."
"Not his girlfriend." I immediately said, while River nudged me, teasing. "You know, he'd hate you even if you weren't on the rival side."
"What? Why? Am I not like-able?" I defended.
"I'm pretty sure the first words you said to him were, 'screw you'." River deadpanned.
I shrugged. "First impressions are never right."
"First impression, last impression." Presley said, before standing up. "Alright, I'm out. My bed is calling my name. See you guys in the morning- feel free to shower, eat, whatever." With that, he turned and left, and a few seconds later, the sound of a bed creaking under weight reached us.
I stretched, facing River. "I'm ready to turn in. Driving is tiring. Wanna?"
He immediately agreed, getting up and grabbing a couple blankets and pillows that were folded in the corner. He gestured for me to lay down, and I complied, letting him drape the sheets over me and tuck the pillow behind my head.
Instead of climbing onto the couch with me, he pointed towards Presley's room. "Hey, I can just bunk in with Pres if you want. I know you haven't been able to sleep alone in ages."
"Oh." I said, surprised. "Thanks." Then a beat went by. River made to go to Presley's room, when I stopped him.
Is he kidding? I sleep better with him than without him, whether we're crammed together on a couch or in a queen hotel bed. And... I don't know. Maybe it's because I've gotten so used to him being there when I sleep. But it'd just be weird, if he wasn't there. And I know him well enough to know that he feels the same way. Even now, tucked under the warm blankets, I felt cold. It was too roomy.
Yeah, there was no way I'd get any sleep if I was alone.
"Wait, wait. Don't be dumb, River. You and I both know that if we separate, we'll be just as tired as we are now, when morning comes. Come here."
He sighed in relief, making me laugh. "You're awesome." He told me, and within a minute, we were both snuggled together on the couch, like the first night we spent here, with me laying completely on top of him, head on his chest, and his arms encircled around my waist.
He brushed my hair with one hand, softly, and we murmured goodnights. "I might be up a little earlier to talk about tomorrow's plans with Presley. You can sleep in." River told me. He ran his hand idly down my spine, warmth following his touch.
"'Kay." I said, knowing that no matter how much he bugs me, there was no way I'd sleep in. We had things to do; no time to play princess and sleep into noon.
After that, we were quiet. Both of us were too tired to keep chatting, and I was incredibly comfortable, with him as a body pillow. So within seconds, I was out like a light.
~~~~
River's body shifting was what brought me out of a dreamless sleep and up to the surface. I opened my eyes, blinking, sight blurry from sleep.
My brain managed to register that River was getting up, like he said last night. Sleep in. I told myself to get up, but the sleepiness won over. I sighed, closing my eyes again, fading out. I barely felt River gently moving, laying me down on the couch after slipping out from under me.
I must have only fallen back asleep for a few minutes, because when I opened my eyes for the second time, River's figure was headed towards the kitchen, Presley following behind him.
A heavy yawn sounded. "I don't see the point in waking up this early." Presley said. They were both at the kitchen table, sitting across from each other.
"We need a head start. We're only here for a few more hours. We're stopping at Viva's house to stock up on more supplies, and then leaving, if everything goes right." River's smooth voice made an odd warmth spread in my chest. I relaxed under the sheets, listening.
"So we're awake right now for a head start, huh? Well, good luck with that, because Viva's still knocked out on the couch." Amusement crept into Presley's voice.
"No I'm not." I sighed, sitting up and heaving myself out of the cozy blankets. I ran a hand through my hair; it was a mess. I walked over to the boys, slipping a hairband off of my wrist and tying my hair up.
Presley got up, gesturing towards his seat. I smiled at him, sitting in his place, while he went to the couch, sitting down on top of the crumbled blankets and pointing a remote at the tv.
I turned to River, who, of course, looked like an angel compared to me in our just-woke-up glory. His hair was messier than usual, but it looked like someone had shaken it up for a shampoo commercial, while mine just looked like a bird built a home in it. His eyes, blue and bright as ever, examined me from across the table.
"Morning." I said.
"Good morning, babe." he winked at me, and I smiled at the memories he brought up; when he was a dark stranger, with a killer's stance and a dangerous charm. The pet name he used before he knew who I was.
"So what's today's schedule?" I asked him. Behind me, Presley was moving around the kitchen, making breakfast.
River leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "The plan is basically the same as we talked about before. We go to your apartment- we need to pack up on more bullets, weapons, and you might as well trade the clothes you have now for some new ones."
"Are you just going to keep the clothes you packed when we first left?" I asked him. He had changed out of yesterday's outfit, now wearing a graphic shirt that must have been Presley's, because I didn't recognize it.
"I'm taking a couple of things from Presley, to replace what got ruined-" he meant the torn, bloodsoaked clothes we had thrown away from the warehouse incident "-but keeping the rest. We've snuck into my house for clothes before, remember? But doing it now would just be pushing our luck."
I nodded, and Presley appeared, setting plates and bowls in front of me and River. "You're lucky I have good taste in fashion." Presley said to River. "There's some shirts on my bed for you to take."
Presley had given us each a bowl of cereal, and a fried egg. The smell of a hot, freshly cooked egg was hypnotizing, after weeks of never eating breakfast.
River and I ate quickly, thanking Presley. River finished before me, and stood. "I'm going to pack our things, okay?" he told me.
I nodded. I needed to change my clothes, and brush my teeth. And hair, big time. It's not like there's any reason to look good; I'm not going on a hot date any time soon. But hey, I'm a girl, and I'd rather not look like a rat in the presence of River.
As River walked off towards Presley's room, I finished the last of my food, and Presley sat down in front of me. I offered him a smile, and he grinned back. Presley was always happy; I wonder how in the world he does it. His life is hard, if it's anything like River's. Yet he acts like he's got it all. Like there's nothing to ever worry about, when just yesterday he was keeping watch over a drug deal, gun tucked into his pocket, in constant danger of getting shot by a rival gang.
"You can take a shower, if you want. There's enough time." Presley offered. I remembered what River had told me about him. Apparently, when he's doing a job, Presley's like the devil. Heartless. River said it was a good thing, though, to shut off your emotions like that. It's a dirty job to work for his father. River's cold eyes flashed in my mind, from back when we were still trying to kill each other. If Presley was colder than River in action, it must be a scary thing to see.
In fact, if it had been Presley assigned to kill me instead of River, he undoubtedly would have done it without a problem.
Imagine that. I smiled at him. Hey, at least that wasn't how it went. Presley knows me as a friend, someone to help survive. Now, he definitely wouldn't kill me. "Thanks. A shower would be nice."
"So," Presley leaned forward in his seat, eyes twinkling. "What's going on between you and my boy Riv?"
I fought the blush that threatened to fill my cheeks, instead putting on a blank face. "Nothing."
He gave me a knowing look, clucking his tongue. "Nothing? You were holding his hand when you walked through my door yesterday, and anyone can see that the guy would throw himself in front of a bullet for you. That's nothing?"
My poker face faltered. "What are you talking about?" I picked up the spoon from the cereal bowl, twirling it between my fingers to keep my hands busy.
Presleys dark brown eyes held a look of certainty. "He falling for you, chickie."
His words sent a shock through me. I dropped the spoon, then cursed when it clattered to the floor, stooping down to retrieve it. I glanced behind me, heart pounding, checking to make sure River hadn't heard anything. The hallway was empty; he was still packing up in Presley's room.
I turned back to Presley, looking at him in disbelief. "You're crazy."
He just smiled. "No, I'm not. You're just blind."
"He's known me for, like, less than a month. Are you hearing yourself?" I flung a hand up. Presley must just be a hopeless romantic, or he's delusional. Sure, I've wondered. What if he feels that way? What if I have the same affect on him as he does on me? But in the end, it's just wishful thinking. Now, Presley saying it out loud just made me more sure. It was a ridiculously impossible idea, because River just wouldn't care for me like that. He knows too much; I'm a freaking time bomb about to set off a huge disaster. I already have; we're on the run because of me. Soon, the agency is going to be on my tail.
Presley shook his head. "Viva, I know my best friend. He's had no problem handling his father's targets, including the women. They were all just another job to him. Until you."
I shook my head right back at him, denying it. "He was sick of his father. I'm not some special gamechanger. He just wanted to get away, and he's human enough to not want to leave me at the mercy of Bill." Presley's talk was making me jittery, and my heart wouldn't calm down. I wanted to yell, stop putting ideas into my head!
"Come on, listen to me. He would have killed you, just like the others. It's nothing to him. Harsh, but true. You're different though. Something stopped him, and whatever that was has grown into something big."
I looked at him, unconvinced. "He hasn't told you that he feels anything for me. Has he?"
Presley laughed. "Of course not. He's my best friend, but he's River. He's not a sharer of secrets, you know? But he doesn't need to tell me. I know."
"Well, you watch too many soap operas. He doesn't."
"Why are you so sure?" Presley asked me. He had a soft smile on his face, like he knew I was dead wrong.
"Why are you so sure? He hasn't told you anything. I know he doesn't. Because there's no reason for him to. I've got nothing for him but trouble. It's not even the sexy kind of trouble."
Presley shook his head. It was like I was missing the funny part in his joke. "You have no idea what it means for him to care about you like that, do you? When someone cares about another someone, or loves them, even, nothing else matters. It's not, 'I want them around because they're convenient for me.' It's, 'I would do absolutely anything, as long as it means they're still with me.'"
I just looked at Presley. It's hard to believe that all of this could come from him. A gang member who I've met twice.
Presley spoke again, this time quieter. "Viva. You can't tell me in complete truth that you don't have any feelings for him."
I smiled sadly. All this time, spending ages denying it to myself, shutting the forbidden thoughts away. Now, all it took was a single sentence from Presley to send the truth crashing over my head. No more pretending.
After a few moments, I answered in a whisper. River was all the way down the hall, in another room, yet I felt like saying anything out loud would be heard by him. "It doesn't matter how I feel. No matter how much I want it, he wouldn't feel the same."
You know the love that's portrayed in movies, and books? The bittersweet story of Romeo and Juliet, where they'd rather die than not be together? Noah from The Notebook, spending years waiting for Allie?
That idea of love, that it beats the impossible. That any two, no matter what happens around them or who they are, can fall for each other. That love is selfless.
That idea is a lie. There's always something behind it. In reality, Romeo probably would have fought with his parents' disapproval, spent a while moping about being forbidden from Juliet, but in the end, he would have shrugged it off and found a new girl.
Noah would have gotten married after a few years of not hearing from Allie. He'd have forgotten all about the house they dreamed of having together, and all Allie would be was a girl from teenage years that he thought about every once in a while.
I'm not saying it doesn't exist. Hey, maybe it's out there, with the couples celebrating their 80th anniversary, and the parents sending their beloved kids off to college, after years of watching them grow up.
It just doesn't exist for me. I have no idea who my parents even are; as far as I'm concerned, I either don't have any, or they gave me up because love just wasn't there. Presley might love his best friend. River's mother might have loved him. But I've never had that- and I'm not about to.
River and I can't beat the impossible. He doesn't want to; he's just sticking around because he has no other choice. If we get out of this, if we're free from the gang and agency and everything else in between, he'll probably hightail it out of here. And he should, too.
Presley was still sitting across from me. Understanding swirled in the deep brown of his eyes. "I know that you think you don't know what it looks like. Love. But it's not that it's hard to see, because it's not. It's something everyone is born able to recognize, and feel. It's not that it isn't there. It's not that you just can't tell. It's just that you need to look right."
I stared at him. "What if it isn't there, though? What if I just think it is?"
He tilted his head. "You're afraid that there's nothing there?"
I shrugged. It was something like that. I didn't think it was there.
He took a breath. "I can't just tell you that it's there, and have you believe me. But, think." He rested his chin on his hand, propping his head up on his elbow. "Remember the night he let you escape before his father got home, the very first night? And when he let you go in the alley?"
Simple kindness, I easily wrote off in my head.
"What about later, though, Viva? I've been checking in with him. He tells me. When the gang ambushed you in the hotel parking lot. He put you before him. When they caught you, Gregory's men.....he felt it. He went to check on you, and fought with everything he had to keep you safe. He offered himself up first for questioning, no hesitation. Anything it took, he didn't want you hurt."
I closed my eyes, remembering the night. River's screaming, when the gun had been pointed at my head, echoed in my mind.
"Tell me, Viva. What do you remember about that night? Had he cared about his own safety at all? What about when you were shot, chickie. He got that gun pointed away from your head. He saved you. And then when you were on the ground, what did he do? When he got you home? He didn't give me details on that. But I'm betting on a few things."
He was quiet for a moment, as if he knew I needed a minute to think. River's face, over mine. His warm arms cradling me against him, when I felt so cold, blood pooling around us.
No, no. Please, Viva. Look at me.
In the car, when he had closed his eyes for a moment, kissing me softly. Wet drops had fallen on my skin.
"He was crying." I whispered, more to myself than Presley. He leaned back in his chair, nodding.
"He spent that whole night sitting by you, waiting for you to wake up. He would have put himself in front of that gun if he could. If that isn't love, it's definitely something." Presley stood up, taking the empty dishes from in front of me, going to the sink and dropping them in.
I stood up too, and followed him to the couch. He sat down, looking up at me with a smile on his face, like always.
I smiled back at him. "Thanks."
"Think about it." Presley raised his eyebrows in meaning.
River's footsteps sounded from the hallway, and he appeared, backpacks in his hand. He tossed them near the door, then turned to look at me. As soon as our eyes met, my breath caught and my heart seemed to stop. Everything Presley had said ran through my head as River smiled at me, his midnight eyes shining with warmth. River, in everything he did, and said, was beautiful, in all honesty. He was everything to me. He cared about me, that much I knew, and that alone was such a blessing that the mere thought almost choked me. The thought of someone like River loving me was achingly out of reach, too great to ever be true and too much of a perfect dream to ever stop hoping for.
So when he walked over to me, slipping his arms loosely around my waist, my heart sputtered and my head spun. I blinked, trying to clear my thoughts, and smiled weakly at him. "Hey there."
His lips tilted up slightly, that tender, gentle look flooding in his eyes. "Hey."
He reached up, trailing his hand up my spine before tugging the hairband out of my hair. My hair fell around my shoulders, and he smoothed it behind my ears, fingers brushing against my neck. I shivered.
"We're leaving soon. Almost ready to go?" He asked in a murmur. My back was to Presley, but I knew he was grinning.
"Not really." I answered honestly. I still hadn't showered or dressed.
River gave me an amused look. "You should probably get started on that."
"Right." I stepped back, regrettably, away from his touch, and headed to the bathroom, for a quick shower.
After brushing my wet hair, brushing my teeth, I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel. River and Presley were on the couch, chatting. I went to the backpacks by the door, opening the one with my clothes in it. After digging through and finding no clean shirts, I sighed and turned to River. "River, do you have a clean shirt I can borrow?"
"Just Presley's shirts."
"You can go take your pick. Top drawer." Presley offered, pointing towards his room.
"Thank you." I walked down the hallway, into Presley's room. His bed was against one wall, unmade. A dark brown wood dresser was against the other, and I went to it, opening the top drawer and going through the shirts. I didn't want to take any of Presley's nice shirts away from him, so I picked a plain gray-blue long sleeve, and after getting a pair of small but clean shorts normally saved for sleeping, and some panties and a bra of course, from the backpack, I quickly changed in the bathroom and walked out to the living room, shaking my damp hair out with my fingers.
"Ready," I called out. The boys were both lounging on the couch, television on mute.
They just patted the space between them. When I sat down, Presley told me with a victorious smile that he managed to get River to stay for the rest of the day, since he hadn't heard from Bill, and it was most likely safe to stay.
We spent the rest of the day talking more than anything. Presley and River told me stories about when they were little, and I explained to them knife fighting tactics. We watched a movie, exchanged funny stories, debated whether or not a T-rex could swallow a hippo.
When the clock hit 9 PM, River and Presley both stood up. Checking his watch, Presley clears his throat. "Alright, well, I guess you guys have to go," he sighed. "Are you both sure-"
"Shh. Wait." River held a hand up, quieting Presley. Footsteps were coming from outside the door; several people, from the sound of it.
"Shit." Presley tensed up, and River rushed across the room to the backpacks, smoothly pulling out his handgun, clicking it off safety and stepping back watching the door.
"Couldn't it just be the apartment neighbors?" I whispered. The footsteps were just down the building hallway. River stepped back a few more steps, facing the door.
Presley came to stand next to me protectively. "Nobody else lives on this floor." Then he groaned quietly. "They know I was with you guys? My dad is going to kill me."
River looked at me quickly. His eyes were hard, cold, but there was anxiety in his voice. "Viva, run to Presley's room-"
Too late. A deafening bang filled the room, and I jumped. The lock on the door had been shot. It swung open, and instantly, six men came in.
Everything that happened, happened quickly. River pointed his gun straight at his father, who stood in front of the other five men. Presley grabbed me roughly by the arm, pulling me behind him, out of range of the guns that every gang man held.
I watched, silent, thinking quickly. If we were fast, we could shoot a few down and run for the window...
The men spread out, two getting closer to me and Presley, the others surrounding River. River was still, focused completely on his father in front of him.
In front of me, Presley suddenly moved. He went right for the two men nearest us, throwing a hard punch straight to one's face, then fighting against the headlock he was gripped in by the other.
River put his finger on the trigger. His voice was firm, emotionless. "One step. That's all you have to do."
"Drop it or they shoot." Bill said, voice dull. At once, three men had their guns pointed straight at me.
I couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. Maybe coming from someone else, it can be considered a bluff. But from Bill, not at all. Bill was dead serious, and right now, all it would take it a flick of his hand and I'd have three bullets in my brain, no hesitation.
Still, I watched River, praying that he wouldn't back down. Forget me; Bill's caused River pure misery all his life. River should pull the trigger, even if the three triggers facing me get pulled too.
Of course, River clearly thought otherwise. He looked over at me, distressed, watching the men aiming at me. Then he dropped the gun, and it clattered on the floor.
"That's what I thought." Bill said, sighing. A quick glance at Presley told me that he was still headlocked, still struggling. Clearly, he knew that he wouldn't win the fight with the two bulky men; he was just trying to pre-occupy them so that me and River had a better chance of getting out.
The men lowered their guns, and I let out a breath. One bent down, retrieving River's dropped gun.
Now we were all unarmed, and surrounded. Which sucked, but it meant that we needed to play it smart for a while, and that means one thing; cooperating.
Bill spoke up, walking past a tensed up River, towards me. He looked me up and down. "There she is. The cause of all this trouble."
I looked at him, keeping my face blank, but on the inside I was full of disgust. Here in front of me was probably the worst man I will ever meet. He killed his wife, forced his son into a life he didn't want. He led a rotten, coldblooded gang and did unspeakable things to innocent people.
Behind him, River inched closer, but one man grabbed him, holding him in place. He pulled at the man's grip, eyes on me. "Don't touch her, Bill."
Bill broke his gaze from me, wandering back to the center of the room, waving his hand carelessly. "Don't worry, I'm not here to hurt either of you. Actually, I have some good news. But, you have to listen to me. No being rash."
The two men holding Presley let go, shoving him away. He stumbled, but stayed on his feet, standing next to me.
Bill focused on him, eyes dark. "I didn't expect this from you, Presley. Neither did your father."
"No? Well, maybe you would have noticed sooner that I wasn't playing your side, if you didn't have your head so far up your ass." Presley retorted.
Bill just raised his eyebrows slightly. "Hm." Then he cleared his throat, looking from me to River.
"Anyway, now for what we came here for." He paused, chuckling. "It's funny. Just when we make our decision, the two of you turn up right under our fucking noses." He shook his head, like all of this was the most amusing thing in the world. As for me, I was just getting more and more confused. What the hell is going on?
Bill focused on River. "River, you're my son. But as you understand, that has not ever given you special privileges, or extra chances, or slack. So you leaving the gang is like any other man doing it."
River stared at him, still clear of emotion. The only giveaway that his father's words affected him was how tense his entire body was.
"However," Bill continued. "You're my blood, and you carry my name. And I'm not planning on ending my own bloodline. Anyway, this whole chasing thing started getting boring really fast."
River's cold eyes started clearing up, now looking strangely at his father. I was just as confused as him, though. What is Bill saying? That he's going to kill me, and let River go? Or...
"What are you saying?" River asked his father. He was still gazing at his father, trying to figure him out. I heard Presley swallow next to me.
"I'm saying you're free. All of the Bloods who've been involved in your tracking are already informed; you're off the target. You and Viva."
I narrowed my eyes at Bill, hearing this. River voiced my thoughts. "What's the catch?"
Bill smiled sharply. "If you think I want something for me in return, don't worry."
River just shook his head, looking at Bill like he had just claimed to be a Satanist. Which he probably was. "What are you doing, Dad?"
"I'm letting my son make his own decisions."
When River didn't say anything, Bill gave him a look. "So, River? What do you think? Truce?"
Stunned, I looked up at Presley. He looked back at me, brown eyes clouded in confusion.
"What the hell?" I whispered to him. I still couldn't get my head around what was being said. What reason does Bill have to let us go? Presley leaned over slightly, and quickly replied a whisper in my ear.
"Bill sometimes does this kind of thing. He'll make a decision even if it doesn't benefit him or the gang, without any real explanation. There really might not be a catch."
I looked back at River and Bill. River spoke. "You're going to stop tracking me and Viva? You won't hurt her?" He clarified.
Bill nodded.
"We'll both be left alone? We're free to leave?"
"You'll never hear from me again." Bill nodded again.
I was starting to see what was going on. Even though it was unclear, the reason why he was doing it, he was telling the truth. He was going to let us leave, and stop chasing us.
River searched Bill's face, doubts flitting through his eyes. Then he slowly nodded, expression decided. "Alright."
Bill smiled. "Good. You and Viva may leave this town. Don't let me run into you again unless you're coming back to the gang, River."
Then he sighed. Just the sound- the way he sighed, like he was waiting for it -made my heart drop and my mouth dry. "Unfortunately, though, there are still consequences for your running away. Punishment, you could say. I'm letting you and the girl go, River. But remember; this was your choice. This is what you wanted to do." Bill's eyes briefly flitted to Presley.
River caught it. He shook his head slightly, looking at his father in horror. "Please don't." He lunged for his father, but two men behind him grabbed both of River's arms, yanking him back.
Realization of what was going on crashed over me too late.
River was yelling, screaming 'no's, hoarse with desperation, fighting against the grips the men had on his arms with everything he had, eyes on Presley.
It only took seconds. A few, short seconds, and Bill had pulled a gun from under his jacket, aimed it straight at Presley, and pulled the trigger.
Everything seemed to kind of blank out for a few moments. I screamed as Presley crumpled to the floor, dropping to my knees next to him.
I was numb. River's voice, the men, faded out, as I looked at Presley. His shirt was darkening with blood at his chest, and his eyes were already losing their light.
I pressed both hands against his chest, tears blurring my sight. "Presley."
..."Presley! Presley!" River. I looked up, at River, who was still fighting to get free from the men, staring at his best friend in pure pain, and disbelief.
Suddenly, the men let go of River. He stumbled, falling to his knees across from me, on the other side of Presley. I lifted my hands, now soaked in blood, away from Presley's chest. It was pointless. It was too late.
Bill and his men left without another word, leaving the door open behind them.
River hovered helplessly over Presley's head, who was hardly breathing. Presley moved slightly, then winced. His breath caught, face contorting in pain.
River put a hand on Presley's arm. "Don't move, Pres. It won't hurt in just a minute. You're okay."
I stayed sat on my knees, bloody hands still held out in front of me, staring at River. His face, panicked and pained just moments before, was now calm and reassuring as he looked down at Presley.
Presley's eyes fluttered, looking back at River. His breathing was barely there, but when he looked up at River, fright was clearly in his eyes. He was afaid; he was dying.
"Pres, you're alright. Just close your eyes. I'm here." River's voice caught on the last word, but he still miraculously held it together, keeping himself calm and in control, so that he could soothe Presley. "I'm here."
Presley listened to River, and the storm in his eyes calmed down. His focus soon faded, and he closed his eyes.
The moment dragged out slowly, quietly, as River spent the last few minutes of Presley's life next to him. The last moment he'll have with his best friend. Presley's breathing slowed, chest rising and falling, before he stilled, going completely silent.
River murmured a few more things to Presley, who didn't seem to be able to hear it anymore.
River drew in a ragged breath, then leaned forward on his hands and knees, bending his head down, listening for Presley's breathing. After a few moments of dead silence, River sat back, hanging his head.
Police sirens sounded from the window, far away, but I had a feeling they were headed towards us.
River didn't acknowlege them, and stayed completely still, hunched over his best friend's body. "This isn't happening." He gasped out, shaking his head.
His words made a sob threaten to wrack my lungs, but I choked it back. I got up and went to River, bending down and leaning my head against his. "River, we have to go. The police are coming."
He bent down again, in denial, listening for breathing that wasn't there. "Presley." He shook Presley's shoulder.
I crouched down next to River, putting my arms around him. Silent tears ran down my face, splashing onto him when I pressed my lips against his temple. "River, he's not there. There's nothing we can do, we have to go."
River turned his face into my neck, taking a few breaths. He was either going totally numb, or about to absolutely lose it.
He turned back to Presley, eyes closed. Saying his goodbyes.
"Come on, Riv." I said in a whisper, after a few moments, coaxing him to his feet and away from Presley's still body. "He's gone now. Fast asleep, okay? There's no pain."
River's eyes were dry, but glazed over in shock and grief. Once he was on his feet he completely leaned into me, looking back at Presley.
Arm around his waist, I led him out the door, murmuring to him quietly. He didn't say a word, just continued leaning into me like he couldn't hold himself up on his own. It was like he was hardly there; just completely lost. His best friend, since he can remember, was gone. Right in front of him, his own father had shot Presley without hesitation.
Eventually we made it to the car, and I opened the passenger side door, letting River in, before closing the door behind him and rushing to the other side, sitting down behind the steering wheel and starting the car with shaky hands.
I headed straight for my apartment, which was just a few minutes' drive away. My heart lurched when I looked over at River, seeing him leaning over his best friend all over again.
The car was parked in front of my apartment building, engine shut off. River looked back at me. His eyes were clouded over in grief, and he shook his head slightly. "He's gone. He's really gone." he said, like he couldn't take it in, and needed to say it out loud to believe it.
Once inside my apartment, he walked ahead of me, into the living room, while I locked the door behind us. I looked around; the place looked the same. Nobody had gone through it since we left. The rooms were dark, though. I hadn't bothered turning any lights on, and the moon was just a small sliver tonight.
I followed after River, with a hollow feeling in my stomach. Everything Presley had ever said to me was running through my head. How can someone I was just talking to a couple of hourse ago be gone, forever, so suddenly?
River was sitting on the couch, looking blankly at the floor. His hair had fallen slightly over his eyes, so I couldn't see what he was thinking.
I sighed at that. It's gotten to the point with River, where I can see what's going on in his head, just by looking into his eyes. They're an open book.
I couldn't bear watching him just sit there, motionless. So I spoke up. "River."
He looked up at me. His eyes were completely dull, numb with grief. "I have to go to bed." he muttered, standing up.
I nodded, fighting back the tears that threatened to drown my vision. "Okay. I'll..."
He walked away before I could finish, disappearing in my bedroom.
Figuring he wanted to be alone, I sighed, walking to the kitchen, and, after washing Presley's dried blood off of my hands, hopped up onto the counter. There was a little space between the cabinets on the wall, above the counter, where I could huddle up. Leaning against the wall, bringing my feet up on the marble counter and hugging my knees, I let my head fall back.
Curled up in the dark, I let myself cry. I pressed a hand against my mouth, trying to keep quiet. River was just down the hall, and I didn't want him to hear.
Hot tears ran down my face as I stared up at the ceiling, seeing Presley's grinning face.
Hey, chickie.
River watching Presley fall to the ground, struggling to get to him. Desperate, yelling, staring at his fallen best friend in horror and shock. Crouching over Presley, listening to his breathing slow down. Soothing him, when he could hardly hold it together himself. Trying to make Presley's passing as peaceful and painless as possible. This isn't happening.
Why him?
I cried for Presley, young, and happy, who had his life taken away in a second. Who did nothing for himself before doing everything for his best friend, and me. He hardly knew who I was, yet immediately put himself in front of me when Bill and his men came. What if I had moved faster? What if I stepped in front of him before the bullet hit?
I cried for River; so much for River. The young teenager he had been, watching his mother die, at the hands of his father. Living for years with that same man, following commands, unable to make his Great Escape. Losing all of the love he had gotten when his mother died, having nobody except for- who else? Presley. And now, once again, his father just had to take that away from him too. As a price for River's freedom, he took Presley. How can River even manage to be holding on, still? After everything he goes through, everything he loses. How is he keeping it together?
I cried for me, too. It's this point, right here. The death, the fighting, and the choking feeling of lonliness that I had been stuck with for the nineteen years of my life- which I never even noticed, until River made me see just how much I needed someone. It's gotten to this point to realize that Presley was right about me. Of course, I had known it when he said it, in his kitchen this morning. But now, I was understanding just how right he was. The extent.
Yes, I had feelings for River. Presley was right about that, when we talked at the table. Now, I get what exactly those feelings were.
Love is a word I still don't fully understand. I mean, nobody's ever said it to me, and I've never said it to anyone. It's foreign.
Before, I definitely had no idea what it was at all. Now that I've known River, though, I was starting to understand what it was. What it meant, what you do with it. River...
How do I say this?
I slid off of the counter, wiping my eyes. River has been in my room for twenty minutes or so, and in his state, I'm sure that's enough for him to fall asleep. He definitely needs it, too.
I walked down the hallway, quietly, to my closed bedroom door. In the silence, I heard soft rain outside, pattering against the streets.
Taking a breath, I opened the door, and blinked at the empty bed in surprise. River wasn't sleeping; he was standing by the window, arms crossed, watching the night outside.
"River...?" I started, then stopped when he turned around.
Pain. It was all there; all over his features. Nothing was controlled, like it had been when he spoke his last words to Presley. Nothing was hidden in his eyes, like when he looked at his father. It was all there. Raw, and honest.
My heart broke, and my breath left me. The tears came back, just like that, spilling out of my eyes. I covered my face with my hands, wiping the tears away with my sleeves. Presley's sleeves, actually.
"Vi." He said, voice thick with grief.
I dropped my hands to my sides, biting my lip, trying to keep it together. Trying to stop being so weak.
But then River was there. He closed the space between us with a few strides, reaching out for me. I grabbed him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
He wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in my neck, squeezing me tightly. We swayed slightly, comfortingly, holding each other, and he let out a shaky breath.
We stayed like that, for a few minutes. He whispered, "He's always been there. Since we were little. Presley."
"Shh. I know." I told him. He pulled away slightly, taking both of my hands, and resting our foreheads together. I backed us towards the bed, pulling him with me onto the soft mattress, under the cool sheets.
He kept me as close as possible, all night. Holding me to him, heads together, legs intertwined. Every once in a while he'd say something, about us, or Presley, or his father. I'd just listen, whisper back a few short words. Right now, he just needed someone to hear him. To be there.
Eventually he fell asleep, face tilted into my neck, breathing softly.
It doesn't matter what it means, anymore. It doesn't matter if I don't understand how it happened. It doesn't matter because no matter how it happened, or what it means, the person with their arms around me right now, the person who saved my life, tried to take it away, and went through hell tonight, here- River -
I love River. And it's not going away.