“Why don’t I go talk to her?” Paisley offers, ducking her head when Rebecca glares at her.
“I think you’ve done enough. Where is she?”
Everyone looks away, not wanting to admit I’m the one who ran her away. “I don’t know. She left and wouldn’t take her stuff.”
Her lips twist at the sight of Evie’s belongings splattered all over the drive. “I hope you’re fucking happy with yourself. If something happens to her, I’ll come back and gut you myself.”
She gets into the car, peeling away, her tyres kicking up gravel. I cover my eyes from the dust, watching her turn back down the road, bypassing another car coming up.
Jaxon steps up next to me, his hand shielding his eyes. “Is that Liam?”
Liam pulls to a stop, getting out of the car with a brown folder in his hand. He takes in the mess, his brows scrunching together.
“You having a yard sale?”
“Not the time,” Reid warns, jumping to sit along the wooden fence.
“When you didn’t turn up, I decided to take a trip out,” he explains, watching each of us warily, like we’re about to pounce. One wrong word and I might. “I can come back if you want.”
“No, thanks for coming,” Jaxon replies. “What have you got?”
Liam holds the folder out, letting Jaxon take it before dropping his hands to his sides. “I also have a disc inside for you to watch. I uploaded some of the content on there.”
“Some?” Jaxon asks, his hand pausing on the folder.
Liam shrugs. “I still need to access the other half, but this is what I have so far. The disc I’d wait to watch. It isn’t exactly something you forget. It seems Mr Black loves to record himself fucking younger women. I bet his wife doesn’t know about that.”
“What about this?” I ask, pointing to the folder.
“That’s stills of another recording I’m still downloading, but I thought you should see since it seemed off.”
“How so?” Jaxon asks, opening the file.
The blood drains from my face when I see a still black and white image of Evie outside her house, Black gripping her chin tightly, his face a mask of anger.
The next image is of her in her knickers with a white tank top on as she stands at the counter, spoon in hand.
The next is from her front door… Fuck, Rebecca was right.
“There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?” I reply, dread hitting the pit of my stomach.
I definitely need that drink.
“I knew who Evelyn was.”
“What the fuck?” Jaxon growls, slapping the file closed, having seen enough, just like me.
Liam holds his hands up. “Not that it had anything to do with you, but a client I do work for has a daughter. She called me to check an apartment for cameras and I found a few, not counting the ones she found herself. I installed new ones for her to keep an eye on who was coming and going. When I found out who that was on the video feed, I contacted you.”
“She was telling the truth,” Jaxon murmurs, his voice low.
I grip the back of my neck, stepping away from them, my chest hollow.
She was telling the truth, and I had been a massive prick towards her.
“Wyatt,” Paisley whispers, taking a step towards me.
I harden my emotions, shrugging it off. “It doesn’t excuse her betrayal. If you don’t mind, I think I deserve a drink.”
I storm off towards the main house, my hands clenched tightly when I hear my brothers calling me back.
They don’t get it.
None of them.
And instead of explaining it to them, I’m going to drink myself into a slumber. It’s the only way I can cope with losing my pride, my dignity, and the love of my life in one day.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
EVIE
Driving over the bridge has never fazed me. It never looked high up from the driving point of view. But sitting down on the ledge, enraptured by the shallow water washing over the rocks on the river, my stomach twirls with nerves. I’m not sure if it’s from the height or from what I’m going to do, what I need to do.
A soft breeze picks up my hair, stirring strands around my face.
People see suicide as a weakness, as the easy way out. They don’t see that a person who ends their own life are driven by a pain so strong that it overpowers the fear of death.
It’s like trying to stay under water without an anchor. The second your lungs fight for air, your body’s instincts take over, and you automatically reach for the surface.
The pain a person feels during suicide, that’s their anchor that keeps them from fighting to breathe.
I never truly got it until today. Life has taught me never to judge someone unless I’ve walked in their shoes. And for years, I had judged, I had been misguided.
Today, that changed.
My anchor is already pulling me down, and I can feel the life being pulled from me. I want the pain, the all-consuming grief and heartache, to stop. I want it to stop so badly. It’s rooted into my blood. It’s in every fibre of my being.
And to make it stop, it has to end. It all does. I do.
There is a ringing in my head and in my ears, making everything foggy. I can’t think straight. Nothing makes sense anymore. I can’t compartmentalise my grief from my heartache. Instead, they’re manifesting together, and it is ripping me to shreds from the inside. All I want to do is make it stop.
Stop!
I desperately want my mum. Fear churns in my stomach at the unknown. She was everything to me: my mum, my dad, my grandparents, my best friend. Although there were times when I wished she had acted differently, told Andrew where to go, my love for her never changed. She was my whole world.
And she’s gone.
How can I go on without her? How do you live without the person who birthed you, who raised you, who taught you about fairy tales and held you when you had a nightmare? How does someone get over this anguish, this excruciating pain and grief?
I have never lost anyone to death before. This feeling, this sadness… it’s too much.
A voice inside my head knows this isn’t answer, that there is a way out, but all I can see, all I can feel, is my grief. In such a short amount of time, I have lost my home, my job, the love of my life, and my mum. All taken from me by the same man. And although Wyatt is still alive, I know he’ll never want to see me again. That grief, that loss, it’s real. It is gut-wrenching, and I desperately need him right now. He said the cruellest things to me, not even flinching over the hurt he was inflicting, but still, the need to have him hold me, to soothe me, it only makes the ache in my chest that much worse.
I gave them both all of me, all my love, and they both left me.
Left me.
I stare blankly down at the rocks, listening to the breeze whistle through the trees.
It’s time. I can do this. There will be no family to mourn me, no one to care.
Rebecca would care, a tiny voice at the back of my mind reminds me.
She will be fine without you.
A calm washes over me, and I clench my eyes shut, picturing Rebecca laughing at something on the television. I picture Wyatt on the beach, above me, the sun shining around him.
And as I shuffle further to the edge, my fingers gripping the rough stone, I picture my mum tucking me into bed, kissing the top of my head.
I love you to the moon and back, baby girl.
My fingers begin to loosen and my body leans forward. There is no fear, and for a single moment, I feel nothing.
Tyres skidding to a stop close by startle me. I grip the ledge, opening my eyes as I lean back, panting heavily. My stomach twists with unease.
“Evie! No!” Rebecca screams.
I spin my head in her direction, gaping as she reaches the treeline.
“No! Go away,” I croak out, my throat raw from crying.
I loosen my fingers from their grip on the ledge, leaning forwar
d. The water below looks angry, moving at a faster speed as the wind picks up. Every time the water laps over the smooth boulders it feels like it’s in sync with my internal turbulence.
“Stop. Please, stop,” she cries out, moving steadily towards me, her feet snapping twigs.
“You can’t be here. Not now,” I tell her, keeping my gaze below.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she declares softly. “Where you go, I go.” I feel her next to me and a new tightness fills my chest.
“Don’t,” I sob out when she jumps to sit on the wall next to me, her feet on the other side, near the road.
“I’m not leaving here without you so please, come down,” she pleads, her voice broken. Her hand pushes towards me, her fingers lying over mine. “This isn’t the answer.”
“It’s the only answer,” I admit.
“I’m not going to let you kill yourself over some guy. He’s not worth it. But you are. Please, Evie, come down. Let me help you.”
I shake my head, staring at her through teary eyes. I let one slip free and it rolls down my cheek, cooling my skin when a breeze blows through the trees. “I’m not worth helping.”
“No man is worth this,” she declares, slapping her hand down on the concrete and stone wall as tears stream down her face.
She doesn’t get it. How could she? She doesn’t know. I didn’t know until earlier. Five days. My mother has been dead five days while I’ve been living the best life in the arms of a man I love.
And I am ashamed.
I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on the wall for her to come and search for me, but if the chills running over my arms are anything to go by, it has been a while.
“Please, Evie. You have so much to live for. This isn’t the end for you.”
“I have nothing to live for. She’s dead.”
She jerks back, her face paling. Softly, warily, she asks, “Who’s dead?”
I close my eyes, tears running down my cheeks and falling into my lap. “Mum.”
“Oh my God,” she whispers, her fingers tightening over mine. “Evie, I am so sorry. When did this happen?”
I can’t even look at her when I answer. “Five days ago.”
“W-what? I don’t understand. You haven’t said anything.”
I force out a laugh, wiping my cheeks. “Welcome to my club. He kept it from me. He’s taken everything, Becca. Everything. I can’t—” I close my eyes, shaking the dark thoughts from my mind. “I need the pain to stop.”
“It feels like that at the beginning, but it eases. I’m not going to lie to you and say it gets better. It doesn’t. But you have me, and together we will get through this.”
I flinch, ashamed that I didn’t think of how Rebecca would feel. She lost her mum when she was five.
“I’ve lost her, and I’ve lost Wyatt. They all hate me, and I finally felt like I belonged somewhere. I don’t belong anywhere now.”
“You belong with me,” she declares, tears rolling down her face. “What would I do without you?”
“Life would be better without me. You wouldn’t have to worry about my father doing something to you next.”
“Fuck him. Fuck them all. Please, Evie, come down. This is grief and heartache talking. What you need to do is get fuckfaced, cry it out, and come home with me. Please.”
Her pleading has my stomach in knots. I can’t bear to hear the anguish a minute longer.
“I feel dead inside,” I admit, looking back down at the rocks.
“And in time, you’ll have that breathing room to feel life again. Right now, you have forced all other emotions off and are only feeling the worst. Once your world stops, your brain will reset, and you’ll be able to sort through your emotions.”
I let go of the side, rubbing my aching chest, and from the corner of my eye, I notice Rebecca stop herself from grabbing me.
I look over at her, letting her see it all; the sharp sorrow and regret I’m holding in. I’m scared that if I let it all out, they’ll be no coming back, and I won’t have the strength to do what I need to. Tears stream down her face as she sucks in a breath.
“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I tell her, my voice breaking at the end.
“Then don’t. Come with me and get drunk.” She stops, brushing her hair off her face, her eyes pleading with me. “I need you.”
I shake my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “You don’t.”
“I’m pregnant.”
I jerk at the admission, seeing the truth on her face. My heart stutters, a tiny burst of happiness running through me before it’s extinguished by the turmoil and grief.
“I can’t do this alone, Evie. I need you. You’ll be the best aunt ever.”
I glance back down to the rocks, my decision wavering. She continues, not caring, her pleas desperate.
“And who will help me choose the colour for the nursery, pick clothes or establish a routine? Who’s going to be with me when I give birth? And what if it’s a girl? Who’s going to be there to scare the boys away with me,” she asks, and I clutch my stomach at the sharp cramps. She’s breaking through my wall, and it hurts.
“Rebecca,” I croak out, silently pleading with her to stop.
She ignores me, continuing. “I found out this morning, which is why I couldn’t meet you. I wanted to tell you, but I was scared you’d judge me.”
I glance at her so sharply my neck cricks. “I’d never judge you.”
She turns sideways, looking down at the water. “I think I was judging myself. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. It’s still really early in the pregnancy. I wasn’t sure if I was ready. What do I know about being a mum?”
“You’ll be a great mum,” I whisper, letting in a deep breath.
She shakes her head, her shoulders dropping with a sigh. “Out of the both of us, you’re the maternal one. I need my friend, Evie. I need her so badly right now. You’ve always had my back, always known what to do. You can’t leave me. I’m so scared right now and it’s not just the pregnancy. You mean everything to me. You’re the sister I always wanted. Losing you would be losing myself. Please, come down. Let me help you.”
I begin to bawl, my body shaking with tears at her admission. “I-I’m s-scared it won’t stop. I’m s-scared I’ll move off this bridge and regret it. I’m so sorry. So fucking sorry.”
“It’s going to be okay,” she assures me, moving a little closer, her arm brushing mine.
Looking at her through floods of tears, her outline blurs. I feel her move, and I flinch when her hands reach around me, pulling me into her arms. My chest and throat burn as heavy sobs rake through my body at her touch. I shove my face into her neck, gripping her back just as tightly.
“I-I never got t-to say g-goodbye.”
“I’m sorry,” she croaks out, her shoulders shaking with tears. “So fucking sorry, Evie.”
“Are you really pregnant?” I ask her, feeling like a shitty friend.
She pulls back, wiping under my eyes. “Yes, and I can’t do this without you. I don’t want to be without you. You’re my best friend and I love you so much.”
I sniffle, taking a lungful of air. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve not told anyone about the pregnancy, and neither can you. I’d like to keep it quiet.”
“You’ll be a great mum.”
“And you’ll be a great aunt, so please, get down from here.”
I give the rocks one last look, my stomach clenching with unease. I grip the other side of the ledge, swinging my legs over. Once my feet hit the ground, my stomach rolls and I rush over to the end of the bridge. I bend at the waist and lose all the food I consumed today.
Rebecca rubs my back. “Get it out. It’s going to be okay now, Evie. I promise.”
*** *** ***
My fifth glass of vodka goes down easier than the first. I don’t want to be here, not when this is Wyatt’s local. However, it was the closest bar and Rebecca was determined to get me drunk.
>
She succeeded. My head rolls to the side as she pushes another in front of me.
Just thinking about Wyatt has a fresh wave of tears filling my eyes. I thought I had dried out, but it seems I was wrong.
“He wasn’t just mad, he looked broken,” I slur. “I really hurt him.”
“Is she okay?” a new voice asks, but I don’t look up from my drink, wanting to forget.
“Who are you?”
“Hayden Carter.”
“Are you here to give her shit, because if you are, you can leave. She’s been through enough for one day.”
“I’ll give you a pass for speaking to me like shit, but to answer your question, no, I’m not here to give her shit. I’m waiting for my cousin to arrive.”
Through blurry vision, I watch her force a small smile. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“Does this have anything to do with why my brother is driving Paisley around looking for her?”
“Paisley hates me too,” I pipe in, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “She slapped me.”
Hayden chuckles, but it dies off when she sees I’m serious. “Seriously? What the fuck? What happened?”
“You don’t know?” Rebecca asks, a bite to her tone.
“Don’t be mean. I’m the one in the wrong,” I argue, before bursting into tears. “I hurt the man I love for a man who killed my mum anyway.”
Rebecca looks crushed at my admission. “Babe.”
“Why did you bring me here? I shouldn’t be here.”
“Fucking hell,” Hayden whispers, taking a seat beside me, typing away on her phone.
“You’re breaking my heart,” Rebecca croaks out.
“How much has she had?”
“Seven,” Rebecca announces. “I thought it would make it better but all it’s done is make it worse.”
“Five,” I blurt out. “I’ve had five. Or was it three?”
“No, babe, it’s your seventh. I think it might be time for us to go home.”
“I don’t have a home,” I snap. “He took that away from me too.”
“You’ve got a home with me,” she argues, crestfallen.
“I don’t have anything. No clothes, no pictures, no boyfriend, no mum, no family.”
Eye for an Eye (Take a Chance Book 2) Page 25