Page 75 of Organized Chaos

Afterward, I entrusted a total stranger to take me to the ferry. The fisherman who gave me a ride turned out to be nice, but it could have easily gone awry as well, with me locked up in his basement.

Raven would faint if she found out about the first real taste of freedom I had experienced. And Reid would have a heart attack if he found out how I had maneuvered through it.

My naive nature concerned him, and rightfully so because these thoughts never crossed my mind until this very second when he pointed it out.

“Besides, Raven worries about you too much. Right now, we need to be there for her. If she thinks you are regressing, she’s going to focus on you instead of concentrating on starting her career as she should.”

My compulsions were difficult to suppress, but Reid was right. Raven would worry more if she thought my worst habits were returning.

I pursed my lips. “I’ll try to be better.”

“Mia, I know it’s difficult for you because you express things the way you see them—plainly. But it doesn’t hurt to apply tact or think things through. If you can do that, I promise we’ll listen to what you want as well.”

He inclined his head.

“And if that includes becoming a stripper or joining MS-13, then so be it.” His eyes danced with amusement.

I bit back a smile. “The struggle is real out there.”

Reid was giving me a compromise along with a motivation. A behavior I had to eradicate from my life in exchange for something I desperately wanted.

“So, all three of us are going back together?”

“Yup. Are you going to be okay?”

I swallowed hard. “I’ll miss Gabby, but I’ll be fine.”

Reid kissed my forehead, and just like Raven, he also whispered, “It’ll be great,” before leaving.

And just like with Raven, I didn’t believe him either.

Chapter 17

The day started ashad many, blurring with the rest. I sat on my windowsill, uncaring about the chilliness dragged through the open window.

Lifting my hand, I shielded my eyes from direct contact with the sunrays and stared at my neighborhood. The red and gray brownstones glistened in the morning sun. On Sundays, there was barely any foot traffic on our street.