Vote Then Read: Volume III

by Aleatha Romig

  Yet here and there, those times when that heavy feeling of darkness weighed on me, my escape hatch wasn’t working anymore. I didn’t know what the hell to do with Evie. My mother had gone quiet again, leaving me to mentally flail about on my own.

  I managed to scramble myself together inside, but that sense of panic was still buzzing under the surface.

  “It’s okay to care about somebody.” My mother’s voice sounded as if it were far away.

  I turned to find her warm blue eyes waiting. Once upon a time, all I’d see in her gaze was weariness and fear. That was long gone, and the wisdom that came in its wake was sometimes too painful to tolerate, especially when directed at me.

  “I know it is, Mom. Evie and I are pretty fresh, so—”

  My words trailed off with a shrug, and my mother smiled softly. “I gathered that. I like her, and it’s pretty obvious you mean something to her.”

  Blessedly, my brother showed up then. We had an offer on the house, and we intended to take it. After I said goodbye to my mother, we went to the realtor’s office. Chad had made sure the friendly realtor, Karen, had all the paperwork set up ahead of time. He knew this situation was a sore spot for me and that I simply wanted the house gone because it held too many bad memories for me. The only good memories were points of respite between the madness. It wasn’t as if my father knocked us around every day, yet during the in-between times, we were all waiting for the next explosion.

  “So I just need both of you to sign here,” the realtor said. “I’ll have you know, your uncle tried to make a claim on the deed.” Her eyes flicked to my brother. “Thanks for the heads-up. I had all the paperwork showing the transfer of the property from your mother’s parents to her.”

  I rolled my eyes. For a moment, I waited for the rise of anger inside, but a sense of relief came instead. “Thank you,” I said, looking back and forth between them.

  Karen looked from Chad to me. “Onto the next slightly awkward topic. When you called and said you wanted everything signed over to your brother, I prepared all the paperwork for that. But he was one step ahead of you and had already set up a trust, directing that the money be set aside for you if you should ever choose to access it.” Karen’s eyes bounced between us as if prepared for some kind of argument.

  I started laughing. “Dude, you are not gonna let me just give this to you, are you?”

  Chad laughed, but his gaze sobered quickly. “No. If it weren’t for you, my life would be very different right now. You’ve paid all Mom’s bills, and you put me through college at a time when I don’t think you could really afford it. Maybe this’ll mean you can get your own house. Mom’s parents owned a huge chunk of property, a lot more than we knew. She hid it from Dad and never even mentioned it to me. Half of it is more than enough for you to set yourself up and buy a place clean and clear, just like I can. Don’t even try to argue because I’m ready for you.”

  My throat got tight. Leaning back, I stared at the ceiling for a moment as I gathered myself. Leveling my gaze with his again, I said, “Fine. You’re right anyway. It’s not really Dad’s place. It was always Mom’s, to begin with.”

  Although I left town later that afternoon feeling better than I had in years, one thing still weighed on me. I didn’t know what the hell to do about Evie and how much I missed her.

  Two days. Two fucking days, and I missed her so much, my heart viscerally ached. I had no idea how to do this. I knew how to take care of myself and my family, but I didn’t know how to do love. Darkness had laid claim to my father. It was something that terrified me because I knew that urge to escape, to flee the feeling. I didn’t think I would ever die of a drug overdose. One therapist I’d seen when I was younger—all but forced to go to by a social worker investigating my parents—had shared that people who experienced abuse didn’t always follow in the footsteps of those who doled it out. Sometimes, they learned the behavior without awareness and repeated it, or they had a reaction against it.

  My reaction against it was so strong it almost hurt. I eschewed all violence. But I could control that. I couldn’t control the dark days. My brother struggled with those days as well because I recognized it in him. Sometimes it came out of nowhere, sneaking in when you least expected it. Like a sunny day when the clouds drifted in and blocked the light or a thunderstorm rolling in so quickly it obliterated the brightness in a matter of minutes.

  I didn’t know how to do a relationship, and Evie had come to mean so much to me. I wanted to get it right for her, but I had no clue how to do that.

  I tried to tell myself I shouldn’t go straight to see her when I got back to Stolen Hearts Lodge. But it was as if my feet had a mind of their own. They walked straight to her cabin even though it was past midnight. My knuckles rapped lightly on her door, expecting her to be asleep and not answer.

  Instead, the door swung open. Evie stood there in her robe with her cheeks a little pink, and her hair tousled around her shoulders. Before I could think, I was stepping through the door, cupping her face with my hands, and kissing her as if my life depended on it.

  Evie murmured my name just before my mouth claimed hers. If she was surprised at my intensity, it didn’t show. She melted into it. Her mouth opened under mine with a low moan.

  I poured everything into our kiss—my confusion, my uncertainty, my wish to be a man I wasn’t, and to have faith in myself on this shaky ground. Tangled within all that was the shining certainty of one thing—against all odds, I had fallen in love with Evie.

  20

  Dawson

  Sometime later, after I had taken Evie roughly, we lay panting on her bed. I felt as if I had been washed ashore after a storm, after being battered by the wind and the waves. The force of our joining was so powerful it ruined me.

  As the thunder of my heartbeat gradually slowed, I felt Evie’s fingers trail over my arm. “Well, I missed you,” she said with a low laugh.

  Rolling my head to the side, I let myself soak in the sight of her. Her dark hair was spread in a tangle on the pillow. She rolled on her side, her cheeks flushed pink and her skin dewy.

  “I missed you too.” The words felt strange when I said them aloud. I hadn’t ever expected to miss someone the way I’d missed her the past few days.

  She was so quiet I could hear the beat of my heart in my ears, and the weight of my emotions frightened me. It was unfamiliar and disconcerting. I managed to take a breath, but it wasn’t easy.

  “So your mom is okay?” she asked softly.

  Swallowing, I nodded. “She is.”

  It said something that this topic felt like safe territory emotionally. Despite the mess of my childhood, I’d always had a tight bond with my mother, and I didn’t shy away from it. Since she’d been sick for years now, I’d also become accustomed to the reality of what that meant. I recalled something she had said years back. Her own mother had lingered after having cancer, and my mother had helped to care for her. She’d once told me it was like saying goodbye a piece at a time. She had wondered if it was easier to let go all at once, rather than in increments.

  In the end, it didn’t matter. Life dealt you the hand of cards, and you had no choice but to play them as best you could.

  Evie seemed to sense I didn’t want to talk much and let the quiet envelop us. I surmised she thought it was because I didn’t want to talk about my mother. That wasn’t it.

  The persistent buzzing of my emergency cell nudged me out of sleep. I didn’t want to leave Evie’s warmth and softness—most specifically, her.

  It didn’t matter, though. Her eyes opened as I rose slowly, trying to carefully untangle myself from her. “What is it?” she asked, her voice husky from sleep like crushed velvet.

  I pressed a kiss to her cheek. “I’ve got a call. Need to go.”

  Jackson had offered to switch up the schedule since I’d taken the past two days to visit my mother, but I’d texted and told him there was no need. I stood quickly, tugging on my clothes and leaving. Walking
out into the chilly autumn dawn, I beat back the slight sense of panic churning in my gut. Back when I’d done my training to become a first responder, my current chief had told me I was rock solid in a crisis.

  The one and only call that had shaken me—that fucking overdose that looked too damn much like my own father’s death—hadn’t shaken me at the moment, only later. In a strange way, I found solace in being able to stay calm in a crisis. When your whole childhood felt out of control, there was something powerful about being able to manage situations for other people.

  But with Evie, I felt completely out of control. I’d come back last night, desperate to see her, only to find the sense of solace shattered. Because I didn’t have a way to contain my feelings for her. I had no way to keep them in check.

  That morning—working with Lucas, Jackson, and Wade as we dealt with a nasty car accident—I concluded there was only one way to manage it, and that was to stop it.

  I ignored the part of my heart that wanted to throw a fucking tantrum over it. I figured I had already faced enough of my demons in this life. For years, I found a way to keep my internal peace. I just needed to find my way back to that.

  21

  Evie

  “Ow!” I released the handle of the skillet, shaking my hand rapidly and spinning around to dash to the closest sink.

  The icy water eased the sting of the burn.

  “You okay?” Dani asked from over my shoulder.

  Brushing my hair away from my face with the back of my wrist, I glanced over at her. “Yeah, I’m fine. Should’ve used a potholder.”

  “What the hell are you doing in the kitchen, anyway?” She leaned her hips against the wide stainless-steel sink, eyeing me as I turned off the water and dried my hands.

  “Good question. I thought I’d help get orders ready.”

  She arched a brow, her perceptive gaze coasting over me. “In the kitchen? That’s what we have the line cooks for. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I sure as hell don’t need you burning your hand trying to be helpful.”

  I sighed, nodding as I turned to lean my hips against the sink beside her. “Point taken.”

  Dani glanced at the round clock above the door that led from the kitchen to the restaurant. “Aren’t you almost done, anyway?”

  “I volunteered to cover for Grace tonight. She has a migraine.”

  Dani nodded. “I wish she’d go to the doctor. Is it just me, or is she getting those more often?”

  “It’s not just you. I told her last week she should talk to her doctor about it. She didn’t want to listen.”

  Dani shook her head before replying to something one of the line cooks said. She turned back and added, “And please keep Evie out of the kitchen.”

  Paul chuckled, throwing a wink my way. “Yes, ma’am. I didn’t ask her to help.”

  “I know you didn’t.” Dani looked back at me. “How about some coffee with me out back before the dinner rush hits?” she asked, nudging her chin toward the door leading into the private portion of the kitchen.

  Seeing as I could use the coffee because I hadn’t slept well in over a week, I nodded. She simply turned and walked to the back with me.

  “Just made this,” she said moments later as she slid a cup of coffee in front of me, pushing over a small container of cream.

  I added a dash before sliding it back in her direction. After the first sip, I sighed as I leaned back in my chair. She insisted we come all the way into her office where we were seated at a small round table in the corner.

  Dani took a long swallow from her coffee before lasering her gaze on me. “What the hell is going on?”

  “What do you mean?” I countered, knowing full well she was asking about my not-so-great mood over the past week.

  “Hmm, let’s see. You’re cranky, you’re irritable, you look like you’re barely sleeping, and as far as I can tell, you and Dawson aren’t talking.”

  I’d hardly seen him. According to Jackson, he offered to be on call every single night since he got back from visiting his mom. Needless to say, between his work here and that, he hadn’t really been around for me to see. It hurt. It really hurt. Because whether he told me or not—newsflash, he didn’t, and it sucked—I knew he was calling it quits on us.

  “I guess he’s busy,” was my lame, evasive reply.

  Dani took a slow sip of her coffee, never once taking her eyes away from me. “He’s definitely busy. So are you. Now that you mention it, you’ve picked up four extra shifts this week. Something else is up.”

  Just thinking about Dawson made my throat hurt and my eyes sting with unshed tears. I didn’t really want to talk about him because I didn’t know what to say.

  I felt like an idiot. Something had shifted that last night we were together. I felt it before he even fell asleep. Being busy wasn’t what was going on with him.

  I shrugged. “I don’t know what’s up with him,” I offered, my words catching in my throat.

  Dani’s gaze softened. “Hey, I didn’t mean to hit a sore spot. I was honestly worried. You’re not usually irritable.”

  I didn’t even realize I was crying until she leaned back in her chair, reaching for a box of tissues on her desk and handing it to me. I snagged a tissue, dabbing at my eyes and blowing my nose.

  “I’m so stupid,” I muttered

  “I may not know what’s going on, but you’re not allowed to call yourself stupid. It’s against the rules.”

  “What rules?” I asked with a sniffle.

  “The girlfriend rules. We’re not allowed to bash ourselves.”

  “Um, okay. Well, I feel stupid. Dawson was always out of my league, and I knew it. I’m sure he never meant for this to be anything more than a little fun, and now he’s done with the fun. I’m the one who started to read too much into it.”

  Dani’s breath came out in a startled puff, her eyes widening. “You’re funny, smart, and totally cute. Plus, looks aren’t what matter.”

  I dabbed at my nose with a balled-up tissue and sighed. “You know what I mean. Dawson’s hot.”

  “Actually, I don’t know what you mean. I remember high school, and I know how hard it was for you even if we weren’t close then. But you were still cute, and you’ve been a bit of a flirt ever since college.”

  I shrugged. “So? It’s all just superficial. Fake it till you make it kind of thing. Dawson’s always had women chasing after him. He sure as hell never would’ve noticed me in high school.”

  Dani’s eyes narrowed. “Forget about high school. High school was hell for most everybody. Plus, Dawson looks as miserable as you do this week.”

  “So what?”

  “I don’t think it’s as simple as him being done having fun with you. That’s all. I’m going to talk to him and find out what his deal is.”

  “Don’t you dare!” I narrowed my eyes and shook my head. I loved Dani, and she was a good friend. But I was not at all about her trying to intervene with Dawson. I’d rather let it just fade away and have things go back to the way they used to be.

  My heart felt cracked because I would even miss the way we used to tease each other before we let this go anywhere. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

  Dani’s mouth twisted to the side. I could tell she wanted to argue the point. Much as she was prone to stick her nose in everything, she wouldn’t if I asked her not to.

  “Please don’t try to talk to him about me.”

  “Fine, I won’t. I still don’t think it’s as simple as you think.” She opened her mouth to say something else when someone called her name from the kitchen. “You sure you don’t want to just call it a night? We can make do without you.”

  “Oh, God, no! I need to work. The last thing I need is to go back to my cabin and be bored by myself.”

  With another call for Dani, she reluctantly stood. I guzzled the rest of my coffee and followed her. I was relieved it was a busy night. I really didn’t have time to think, and I certainly didn’t want to.

  22 />
  Evie

  Several more days passed uneventfully. Now that I was actively avoiding Dawson as much as he appeared to be avoiding me, I hardly saw him, and that was a relief. When I did see him, even from a distance, there was a sharp sting on my heart. It felt as if the crack just couldn’t heal; as if my skin had cracked deeply, and I kept tearing it open, again and again. It hurt like hell.

  In my efforts to avoid the pain, I filled my time with work. When I had an open morning, I called my mother and asked her to meet me at Wake & Bake Café. I tried to get together with my parents every few weeks. I was nursing an Americano with an extra shot—the bitterness suited to my mood—when my mother came through the door into the café. She hurried over, pulling me into a quick hug. “Hey, dear, so good to see you,” she said as she stepped back.

  “You too, Mom. Your coffee’s already covered,” I said.

  “Evelyn, that’s not necessary,” she said with a soft smile, brushing a loose lock of her silver hair away from her glasses.

  Only my mother ever called me Evelyn. I hated it when I was little, but I’d grown strangely fond of her habit a few years after my sister died. She’d called both of us by our full names—Evelyn and Kristalyn. It was a poignant reminder of Krista once the grief faded to a tolerable ache.

  Smiling, I shrugged as I sat back down at the small table by the windows. “You can take it up with Nancy.”

  My mother chuckled, rolling her blue eyes—so similar to mine. She hurried off to order, chatting briefly with Nancy before returning to sit with me. After a few minutes of casual catch-up, my mother cocked her head to the side. “Are you okay?”

  My chest tightened, and anxiety spun inside. My relationship with my parents was solid, though sometimes tense. After Krista died, they’d gotten hyper-protective. Years past that, I could understand it was how they coped, but it had made it hard to talk about emotional topics.