One More Night

10

**i feel like there should potentially be a trigger warning (maybe?) for the end of this chapter. nothing graphic, just descriptions of injuries sustained**

The car ride was spent with Margo shifting in her seat uncomfortably as they rode in near silence. She could tell he was still annoyed, and since she barely knew Rio, she didn't know how to address the elephant in the room—or car. Instead of trying to appease her thoughts, she let her mind wander as the city lights passed.

Usually, she would be entranced by the lights, but tonight, she didn't allow herself to be fascinated by them—not when she had seen her mother for the first time in six years. It almost felt as though Adara had tainted the wonder of the city for her. This was the first time she had felt unsafe in this city since she had abandoned everything back in New York, and she would give anything to feel comfortable again.

Margo didn't want to go home—not to where her mother could show up at any point—or worse, the Christos. She shuddered as she adjusted in the leather seat once more. They still had thirty minutes to go, judging by the time on the clock. They'd get to her house a little after 1:00 AM, and she was excited to change into her pajamas. She imagined the warmth of her fuzzy pajama bottoms and favorite t-shirt and pretended she was wrapped up in her comforter in bed.

It helped her stay calm when she was anything but. She looked over at Rio and noticed his hands were gripping the steering wheel, and the passing lights showed how white his knuckles were. She turned to look back at the windshield once more, thoughts of her mother and Lukas swirling around her head.

Margo tried not to focus on the past, which she held close to her chest. She didn't like to think of the bruises, the broken bones and fractured ribs. She especially didn't enjoy remembering how it felt to have Lukas' hands wrap around her neck, squeezing tightly. It left a sour taste on her tongue, and often, she found herself drinking to forget about it. Tonight, however, she was too drunk not to ignore the pain that emanated deep within her chest and throughout the rest of her nervous system.

Her fingers tapped against her thigh as another minute in silence passed between them. She didn't understand and couldn't hold her curiosity back any longer.

"Did I do something wrong?" she asked hesitantly. 

He glanced over at her to find her looking out the windshield still, unable to face him in case she had done something wrong. She didn't think she had, though, and found it rude to ignore her if she hadn't done anything.

"Nah," was his only response.

"Then what's wrong?"

His silence was enough of an answer, and she settled back into the leather seat. "I don't think it's fair to treat me like I did something to you when I've done nothing."

"It's nothing that concerns you."

Margo rolled her eyes at his response. It reminded her why Robert was the only man she hung around. Most men weren't straightforward, but Robert was. The man didn't know how to keep a secret for his life unless it had to do with Sandra or Margo, and that was a fact she appreciated about him.

She couldn't help but grumble, "Whatever," under her breath.

She heard the sharp intake of his breath before he sped up to reach the next exit. 

"There are things about my life I share with no one, and if I'm keeping you out of it, be grateful."

Margo glanced back over at Rio to find him already looking at her. She held her breath as his hand unlatched from the steering wheel and settled softly on her thigh.

"You look good tonight," his attention drifted back to the road before he made a left turn, "Especially wearing my shirt."

She knew he was trying to detract her attention from their previous conversation, and it worked. Margo's blush rushed to her cheeks and chest as she pulled the visor down to look in the mirror. She examined her amber eyes lined in a dark coal and then down to her rosy lips before she grabbed the clear lipgloss hidden in her bra. She chuckled when he looked over at her.