Ryker
Awkward silence fills the car as we wait for a train to pass by, and I turn to Justine.
“Are you ever going to look me in the eye again? Or explain why the hell you can’t afford for something to happen between us?”
Her backpack lays on the floor at her feet, and her hands fidget in her lap. Her gaze darts toward me when I speak, but doesn’t stay.
“Do we really need to have this conversation now?”
No woman has ever frustrated me this much. “You can’t bolt from the car like I’m sure you will as soon as I park, so yeah. Now’s a great time.”
Justine’s cell phone buzzes in the pocket of her backpack, and her hands go for it immediately.
“Hello?”
The man on the other end is a loud talker, so it’s not hard to hear him. “This is Officer Crawford from Campus Safety. We have a suspect in custody for the break-in last night.”
“For real? Who? Why? Did you find out why?”
“The suspect hasn’t admitted to anything yet, so I can’t confirm, but we wanted to let you know as a courtesy. Maintenance will be installing a new door and dead bolt today, so you shouldn’t have any more problems.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the call. That’s great.”
“We’ll let you know if we get more information out of the suspect. Have a good day, Ms. Porter.”
She hangs up and stuffs her phone back in the pocket of her backpack. “At least I know I can go home today. That’s good news.”
I look at her with disbelief. “Are you shitting me? You’re going back to that rattrap of an apartment? The university shouldn’t even be able to rent those out. They should be condemned.”
Justine crosses her arms over her body, a mulish look casting over her features. “It’s where I live. It might not be up to your standards, but not everyone can be as picky. You heard him, he said they had a suspect in custody, so it’s not like I’m going to have any more problems.”
I shove a hand through my hair and stare at her. “A suspect, Justine. You’re in frigging law school. You know damn well the person they picked up might not be the one who did it. And there have been multiple break-ins. It might not have been the same person for each of them. The fact that they’ve got someone in custody doesn’t make that place any safer than it was last night when your door was kicked in.”
The gates lift from the train track, and I shift the car back into drive.
“I’m going home.”
“It’s not safe. Do you own a gun? Because you’re going to need one living there.”
Her gaze jerks to me. Finally. “You can’t have a gun on campus.”
“Then what are you going to do the next time someone kicks your door in and you happen to be inside? Campus Safety isn’t going to get there quickly enough to do a damn thing if some guy wants to rape and murder you.”
She sucks in a harsh breath. “Thanks a lot for putting that out in the universe, like an asshole. Besides, nothing is going to happen.”
“Three break-ins since the semester started is just ridiculous. You can’t stay there.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she stares me down. “Not your business.”
I pull up to another red light and turn and meet her glare. “I fucking care about you, so I’m making it my business. You think my dad can’t get that place shut down and force the issue?”
Her dark eyes blaze hot. “You think I can afford to live somewhere else by myself? I live on a budget. Now, I have no scholarship. I only have what I’ve worked my ass off to save and a tiny inheritance. My choices are severely limited.”
“Then why didn’t you get a damn roommate?”
“Because my last roommate screwed me over by bailing halfway through the semester and not paying her bills! Everyone I trust already has a place to live and a roommate! I’m not going to spend my last year of law school couch surfing when I could have my own place. It may not be glamorous, but at least it’s quiet and it’s mine.”
“Then how the hell can you even afford to still be in school?”
Justine’s eyes go wide and her mouth shuts so abruptly, her teeth click together.
“You didn’t go to another strip club after the Vu. Did you?”
She looks away, suddenly fascinated by what’s going on outside her window, shutting me out.
The light changes, and I take the roundabout and dodge traffic before pulling into the parking garage next to the law school. Justine still hasn’t replied when I find a spot on the top level.
“You’re not going to tell me anything, are you?”
Her gaze drops to the backpack she’s clutching in her lap, her shoulders hunched.
“Will you even look at me?”
She fumbles for the door handle and yanks it open. I follow suit, not about to let her walk away from this.
She’s already near the trunk when I step in her path. “Justine, stop. Just fucking talk to me. I want to help. Let me fucking help.”
It’s like she’s completely shut down. She won’t look at me, and it’s driving me nuts. Every time she blew me off before, she did it with a direct stare, and I could always read her eyes. Now, I’ve got nothing.
I lift my hand and cup her chin before she can sidestep me. Her dark gaze is confused and shaken. “Let me help,” I repeat. “You don’t have to be so damn strong all the time.”
She closes her eyes for a moment before reopening them and focusing on me. “I can’t do this with you. Not here. Not now. I need to get to class.”
Dropping my hand, I shake my head. “Because that’s all that matters to you, isn’t it? Your grades and your degree. Do you care about anything else? Anyone else?”
Those dark eyes flash with what looks like a sheen of tears, but she doesn’t let them fall. Justine hefts her backpack again and strides away toward the stairs.
What a fucking mess of a morning.