•T H I R T Y•

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Jamie's POV

"Battery and assault." Stunned, I barely voice my astonishment into a coherent sentence from the dark backseat of Riley's old car. I rest my red head against the car window, the chill of the glass feeling good against my freckled forehead, while my green eyes stare down the bar till it disappears into the distance. As Riley bullets the car at a street corner, the shrillness of police sirens reach my ears, but fade away just as fast as I heard it.

I feel like I should be livid. Yet, I can't bring myself to be. Did Robin and Riley attack somebody tonight? Or did they silence an abuser?

In this state, unless the victim presses charges, there's no legal way for any other party to intervene. But Riley and Robin did find a way - an illegal assault way.

The sicking sound of glass breaking over flesh is just as loud in my head as the man's screaming. Every time I blink, I can picture the terrified look on that battered woman's bruised face, and how she gave Robin and Riley the same look. She obviously didn't see heroes, but people just as violent as her abuser.

My green eyes catch Riley's brown ones in the rear view mirror, yet we say nothing. Neither of us can find any words of comfort, or reassurance to spare. Probably because there are none to offer that'll make any of this any better.

Robin is uncharacteristically quiet and still in the passenger seat. Her usual smirk is nowhere to be found. The mischievous spark is missing from her blue eyes as she glares out the windshield.

"Are you two okay?" Riley finally breaks the silence after a few miles. Robin and I barely nod. I'm not sure either of us mean it.

"Are you?" I mouthed at him through the mirror, not finding enough strength to be alright off the back. It was a violent ordeal, one that Riley and Robin were apart of, and leaves an unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"I will be." He mumbles unconvincingly.

"Pull over there." Robin speaks up, pointing at a small convenience store with a bright open sign in the window. Doing what he was told, Riley pulls into the very last spot of the parking lot. We shakily climb out of the old blue car. That's when I notice it. Riley clutches his fist to his chest, the knuckles looking more crooked than usual, and a nasty purple color.

Riley and I wait outside by the glow of the neon sighs in the windows and by the smokers for Robin. I'm not sure how we find ourselves sitting on concrete, with our backs against the brick of the little store, maybe our legs gave out, who knows. The vass starless night sky looks bleak and ominous above our heads, the blueness reminding us how little we are, and how cops at the scene of a bar fight are not that far away.

I feel a hand enclose around mine, the touch making realize how cold I am. I give Riley's good hand a squeeze, catching his worried gaze. "I'm sorry you had to be a part of that."

Now I realize I could be associated with this. The cops could be looking for all three of us. Doesn't matter that I didn't do anything, I pulled an escape with the people who did.

A month ago, this wouldn't be happening. I would be at home, safe in my bed, with a cup of tea to keep me warm. I wouldn't be laying low from police on a cold concrete curb after bar fights.

I'm not sure what to say, probably because I'm not sure if they did the right thing or not. So I don't say anything at all.

"Do you hate me?" Riley fails to come off as jokingly. "Scared of me?"

"No," I shake my head. "I don't think I can."

"You should." He scuffs, unsuccessfully trying to uncurl his swollen fist. I give his hand good another squeeze, silently telling him I won't ever hate him.

"I've never wanted you to... to see the ugly in my life." He admits, letting go of my hand.

"I've done a lot awful things like that. I've done much worse too." I take Riley in, realizing all that he is capable of. I can see every single girl he slept with, and left behind in tears. I can see the fear in every person's face that he pointed his gun at. I can see every bruise that's ever stained his skin. I can see every bar fight. I can see all the bad he's ever put into the world too clearly, and it haunts me.

Blinking, all of that vanishes. And I just see Riley holding my hand, ignoring his possibly broken hand, because he's looking at me like I'm the most important thing in the world.

"I'm really glad that guy didn't punch you back tonight." I quietly admit. He might be battered and bruised and shivering on a cold sidewalk, but he's solid and whole next to me. Everything that's gone bad between us doesn't seem to matter anymore. I reach out, and pull him into a hug I didn't know I needed. Riley clutches me to his body, his good hand on the small of my back keeping me close. I've almost forgotten how great it feels to be held by him. I've almost forgotten how tightly his arms bind around me. I've almost forgotten the intense warmth that swallows me up head to toe. I've almost forgotten that we were friends first, and all the reasons why we should stay friends.

"You sure you don't hate me?" He tries again, mumbling into my red hair.

"Never could." I say softly into the soft spot of his neck.

"Hey baby!" The two of us break apart at an enthusiastic wolf whistle. One of the smokers rudely cat calls at Robin as she emerges from the little store as if she's a piece of meat. Riley and I get to our feet, ready to step in with fury obvious on our faces.

"Fuck. Off." Robin silences the brute with one livid look. If looks could kill. She looks deadly as she is beautiful. It looks as if her icy blue glare can end the world in hail, while looking so intimidating it's as if she'll bare fangs and tear you apart. For a spilt second, I mistakenly feel the ground rumble under my feet. The smoker immediately puts out his cigarette with his worn sneaker, and rushes off in the opposite direction.

"Here." Robin gives ice to nurse Riley's swollen hand. Riley's swears loudly as slowly inches the bag of ice cube onto his bruised knuckles, the pain so unbearable he sinks back to the sidewalk with a thud, his spine landing against the building like he just collapsed.

"This will help." Robin carefully places a small bottle of vodka into his good hand as we both lower of each side of him. Ibuprofen could have helped Riley too, but there's no point in saying so.

"Jamie," Robin's blue eyes catch mine, the blues so full of self loathing, I feel like someone just dumped a bucket of freezing water down my back. "It's not much..." she tries, unexpectedly offering a candy bar between her chipped black nails.

It's more than a chocolate bar. It's Robin's effort at a silent apology. Instead of verbal reassurance, she giving me comfort food, because as a baker I know chocolate might not solve things, but certainly makes everything better. The gold wrapper crinkles as I take it. I don't have the heart to tell her that I don't eat junk food, knowing it is the last thing she needs to hear. So, I take Robin's good gesture, and take my time chewing.

The chocolate is indeed comforting, the sweetness making the world less harsh for the slightest of seconds.

Robin shakily lights a cigarette between her teeth. The flickering fire of her cheap lighter catches the dead look in her eyes.

"Smoke?" Without looking him the eye, Robin offers a cigarette to Riley.

"I don't smoke." He grumbles, taking a swig of the vodka.

It's silent between the three of us. We just sit on the curb, smoking, drinking, and eating, the darkness of the night reaching out for our toes, but never swallowing us whole from the glow of the neon signs.

So what now? What can we do to make this better?

"I didn't do the right thing, did I?" Robin says, taking a long drag of her cigarette.

"I'm not sure." Riley and I both answer. The world doesn't seem bright anymore, but a dull grey.

"I just wanted to make him stop." Robin grudgingly says so quietly her voice goes hoarse.

"I know." Seeing guilt eat Robin up makes Riley go pale. Despite being possibly broken, his left hands reaches out for Robin, the crocked fingers twitching as they brush across the back of her hand.

"At least I did something." Robin spits out between clenched teeth.

"You did do something, Robin. You did put him down, but what about the woman? What's going to happen to her? Is she alright? Is she going to be okay?"

My words set Robin jumping to her feet.

"You're right, Jamie." She angrily stomps out her cigarette.

"I'm going to go find her." With a surge of energy, Robin takes off into the darkness, heading back in the direction of the sirens.

"Robin!" Riley calls after her, watching after with pain filled eyes.

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