When the woman lowered her gun, the kid turned and hightailed it out of the store.
Tae felt a trickle of blood down her arm and looked down at her now very dirty dress. And dammit, the slit had ripped up to nearly indecent heights. “I knew I should’ve bought the insurance!” She narrowed her eyes at Ms. Riley. “You’re going to pay for this dress!”
“The hell I will! And you’re going to pay for this whole mess.” She gestured to the broken glass. “I should’ve called the cops on the lot of you!”
“You’ve got two ceiling tiles out, some insulation, and a few light bulbs.” Riggs pulled money from his wallet. Two hundred-dollar bills from what Tae could see. “This should cover it,” Riggs said to Ms. Riley. “We good?”
Ms. Riley snatched the two hundred bucks and shoved them into her pocket.
Riggs nodded and then turned his sharp and—whoa, seriously pissed-off eyes—on Tae. “You’re bleeding,” he said.
She took his left hand and turned it over, looking at his cut palm. “So are you.”
“It’s nothing,” he said grimly. “You shouldn’t have—”
“What? Not stood up for the kid who was stealing for his starving sister? Not given him money to get more food? Not let him go so he could feed her? Which?”
“All of it.” He moved close, eyes on her like he might be approaching a wild lioness. Then, closer still, until they were toe-to-toe. Moving very slowly, he lifted a hand, tipped up her head, and eyed her face, turning it right and then left, studying her carefully.
She jerked her chin free. “I’m fine. And if I hadn’t helped him, then who would have?” She turned to Ms. Riley. “You got a broom?”
Ten minutes later, she and Riggs had cleaned up the mess. Ms. Riley sat on her stool watching Netflix on her phone, ignoring them both.
Riggs looked at her face again.
“Still fine,” she said.
“Is there someone I should call for you?” he asked. “Let them know you’re okay?”
“Nope.”
“Someone’s got to be worried about you.”
“Nope.”
“No one?”
She slid him a look. “Are you fishing to see if I’m in a relationship?”
“Are you?”
“No.” She’d had boyfriends, but no one to write home about, and nothing lately. Her first serious relationship had been five years ago, but they’d split when he’d fallen in love and she hadn’t been there yet. Her last involvement had been a year ago, and they’d split because, according to him, she was closed off and “grumpy.” True, and she’d made an attempt to change that. But even then, when he’d come back a month later to try and make up, she’d told him she hadn’t missed him when he was gone.
Except . . . she had.
Okay, so not him exactly, but she’d missed having someone in her life, someone to have fun with, be physical with, someone to talk to.
Was that her problem? Was she lonely? Good God, that made her sound so pathetic, but she suspected it was true. But for so long, she’d been motivated by circumstance, money—or lack thereof—and she’d told herself over and over again that nothing mattered but the security and safety money could bring her. Certainly not love.
At her continued silence, Riggs grabbed two pints of ice cream, taking the time to hold them up to her for approval. The double fudge chocolate and Neapolitan.
She nodded, and then he slapped more money on the counter. Without looking at Ms. Riley, he grabbed a plastic-wrapped spoon and came back to Tae.