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Ever Always

Page 2

by Diana Gardin


  “Your head hurting?” he asked her.

  She nodded, lying still and quiet on the bed.

  “What can I get you?”

  She removed the arm covering her eyes and stared up at him. His chest clenched with something achy and sharp, and his hand involuntarily went to the spot to clutch it and make the strange pain go away.

  “Can you get your brother back here where he belongs?” she asked, her eyes just as hard as the feeling in his chest.

  His head dropped. He never wanted to disappoint her, never wanted to let her down. He and Sam had always been alike that way.

  But fuck, she asked for the one thing he couldn’t give her.

  His brother was an idiot.

  “Go home, Hunter,” said Ever.

  “I’m not going anywhere. Not tonight.”

  She winced against the overhead light’s glare. Hunter rose from the bed and shut off the light switch by the door. He went into the bathroom where he knew her prescription migraine medicine was kept, grabbed two pills, and brought her a glass of water to accompany them.

  “Here,” he whispered, handing her the medicine. She sipped the water and swallowed the pills, her eyes glittering softly in the darkness.

  “You can go on home. I’ll be fine.”

  “There’s no doubt in my mind that you will be fine one day, Ev. But today isn’t that day. I’m staying. Go to sleep, and get rid of that headache. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

  She hesitated for a second, and then she nodded as she sank back into her pillows. “Thank you.”

  The fact that she felt she needed to thank him for taking care of her when Sam wasn’t there to do it blew his mind to pieces.

  “Sleep,” he told her.

  Ever awoke to pounding on the front door that matched the pounding in her head. She sat straight up in her bed, the light streaming in her window confusing her. Was it a dream? When she went to answer that door, would she see her father sleeping off a drunken stupor on the couch?

  She stood and realized that she was somehow now wearing her pajamas. One of Sam’s big T-shirts and a pair of old boxer shorts. It was all she ever slept in.

  She pulled a robe out of the closet and padded barefoot out into the living room.

  Her father definitely wasn’t on the couch. Instead, she saw rumpled blankets and a pillow occupying the space. There was no giant bloodstain on the floor.

  She would’ve thought last night had all been a dream if not for the sharp scent of bleach and the fact that Hunter was standing next to the front door in nothing but a pair of low-slung sweatpants, his muscled arms crossed over his chest.

  “Sheriff Lincoln’s back. You ready?” he asked her with concern. “How’s your head?”

  “Feels like my daddy hit me with that baseball bat after all,” she said.

  His brow furrowed. And when she looked into his face it was like breathing air into her lungs for the first time since she’d squeezed that trigger. His hazel eyes were locked on hers, his dark blond hair a spiky mess from sleep.

  He frowned. “Do you want me to get rid of him?”

  She contemplated. She really didn’t want to deal with the sheriff, but she also didn’t want to cause Hunter any problems. He’d worked hard to make a life for himself. He didn’t need the shit storm about to rain down all over her.

  She shook her head. “No. Go put a shirt on, for God’s sake, Hunt. What will they think?”

  His frown deepened. “I don’t care what they’ll think. And neither do you.”

  A small smile tugged at her lips. He was right about that. She never cared what any of the people in Duck Creek thought. Except for Sam and Hunter, and Lacey, her boss at the bakery.

  “You’re right. Let’s just get this over.”

  He shot her a small, proud smile and allowed the front door to swing open, aiming his smirk at the sheriff. “Morning, Linc. What can we do for you?”

  The sheriff stumbled as he took in the sight of Hunter answering Ever’s door shirtless. Ever could see Hunter was going to enjoy the situation far too much.

  “Come in, Sheriff,” she called.

  He gathered himself, striding past Hunter and aiming a stern stare at Ever. “Young lady, I knew your daddy for more years than you’ve been alive—”

  “And yet,” she interjected, “you did nothing every time he hurt me. I know he loved my mother, Sheriff, and lost a big piece of himself when he lost her. But that’s no excuse for the way he treated me. I knew it, and so did you. What the hell do you want?”

  Lincoln stared at her with his mouth agape. Ever had never had the nerve to speak this way when her daddy was still alive. She’d even surprised herself, and Hunter, who stood stock-still by the door, was unable to tear his eyes away from her face.

  “I want to know where that son-of-a-bitch boyfriend of yours is,” answered the sheriff. “I know he’s the one who pulled the trigger, and you’re protecting him. Where is he?”

  “We have no idea,” said Hunter evenly. It never took Hunter long to get himself together again after a shock. “He took off last night, and we haven’t heard from him. If we do, Sheriff, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Yeah.” Lincoln’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “I’m sure I will.”

  He turned back to Ever, his tone and demeanor softening. “Listen, Ever. I know you’re going through a lot right now. You must be in shock, confused. Don’t let the wrong type of people get you mixed up in something you can’t get out of. You want to come stay with Missy and me?”

  Only in a town as tiny as Duck Creek could someone piss you off and then invite you to stay the night in the same breath. Did she want to go stay at the sheriff’s house, while his wife babied her, like they hadn’t known for years that she was getting beat senseless in her own house? Was he serious?

  “No, thanks,” she said with cool certainty. “I’ll stay right here in my own house, where I feel safe for the first time in years. You can see yourself out, Sheriff.”

  He stared at her for a solid minute, and she knew he was wondering where the timid little girl he’d once known had gone. But he’d never known the real Ever.

  Had anyone?

  Hunter closed the door behind Sheriff Lincoln. He leaned against it, studying her. She had the uncomfortable feeling he was sizing her up. But then she remembered that this was Hunter. She’d known him her entire life, right? He knew her. She knew him. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and slowly sucked air into her lungs. She spent a moment just remembering how to breathe again.

  She suddenly couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment in her life when she’d forgotten.

  Finally, he pushed off the door and cocked an eyebrow. “This might be a dumb question—okay, it definitely is the dumbest-ass question I’ve ever asked anyone. But I gotta ask it, and you gotta answer. How are you this morning? Other than the headache, I mean. How are you…emotionally?”

  She sighed. “I shot my father yesterday. I don’t have a clue where my boyfriend is. I don’t know what tomorrow holds for me, or the day after that. So I’m…kind of a wreck, Hunter. Does that answer it?”

  His head tilted to the side as he considered her, and she had to admit he was achingly adorable. His jaw was lined with scruff, glinting softly in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

  “I know what you need,” he said suddenly.

  “I need to sleep for a week.”

  “Nah,” he answered, shaking his head. “That’s not you, Ev. You aren’t going to bury your head in the sand. You’re going to grieve, sweet girl. Because he was your father and maybe at one point in your life, he was a good one. But he wasn’t good anymore. Not to you, not to himself. And you did what you had to do.”

  He crossed the tiny room and cupped the back of her neck with both hands. “Do you hear me? You will grieve, and then you will heal. And I’m going to be here every step of the way to help you.”

  She met his steady gaze head-on. It had been years si
nce she’d stared into his eyes this way. They used to have staring contests when they were little, she and Hunter. Hunter had always blinked first. She smiled.

  His lips turned upward into a smirk as he read her mind. “Go.”

  They stared each other down, neither wanting to be the first to blink or look away. Finally, against his will, Hunter’s eyes blinked closed just before he muttered a curse. Ever laughed out loud.

  “I win,” she said. “I still got it.”

  “Yeah, Ev,” he whispered, letting go of her neck. “You do.”

  “What do I need?” she asked. “You said you knew.”

  “First, you need breakfast. And then I’m going to let you lie down for a few hours and get rid of that migraine. Then, I’m taking you somewhere.”

  “Don’t you have to work?”

  He headed for the kitchen. “I took a few days’ leave. You need me right now.”

  “Where are you going to take me?”

  “When you wake up and that gorgeous head of yours is feeling better, you’ll find out.”

  Three

  Ever had been napping for three hours when Hunter’s cell phone rang.

  “Hunt.” Sam’s voice sounded like he’d been chewing on gravel.

  “You sound awful, little bro. Come home.”

  “Can’t do that, Hunter,” said Sam. “You know that.”

  Hunter hoped his exasperated sigh reached Sam across the distance. “You didn’t think it through, man. You never do. None of this was necessary.”

  “So you’re saying Lincoln would have just forgiven Ever for this? For killing his best bud?”

  “No—”

  “Exactly.” Sam’s voice was heated now, his irritation with Hunter showing. “He wouldn’t. And you know what, Hunter? Ever doesn’t need the hassle. What’s done is done, and she did the right thing. She didn’t have a choice. She shouldn’t have to suffer for it.”

  “Why don’t you just tell me what’s really going on here, Sam?” said Hunter, his voice low and even. The last thing he wanted to do was wake Ever. She needed the sleep.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know what I’m talking about. Did you or did you not want to get the hell out of Duck Creek? This was just your way of doing it.”

  Silence across the line.

  “Sam?”

  “I’m doing this for Ever.”

  “Hunter?” Ever’s sleepy voice came from across the room. She always sounded sweetest when she was either falling asleep or just waking up. That strange, aching stretch in his chest panged him once more. He rubbed at the spot absently. “Is that Sam?”

  The lift in her voice as she asked the question squeezed Hunter painfully. He nodded, handing her the phone.

  “Sam?” she breathed into the speaker. “Where are you?” She listened for a moment. “How much farther are you going to ride?” She nodded slowly. “I see. What’s our plan here?”

  She closed her eyes briefly as she listened to whatever answer his brother had to offer, and when she opened them again her expression had hardened. “Okay, Sam. I love you. I hope we can end all of this soon. No, I know I can’t call you. You had to ditch your phone. Yes, I understand. Bye.”

  She tossed the phone onto the couch next to Hunter and turned her back. His eyes followed her as she went to the kitchen and got a glass of water.

  “You want to tell me what he said?” he finally asked her. She was staring out the window over the kitchen sink, her back facing him.

  “He’s traveling down the coast, I guess. Doesn’t know where he’ll end up. He’s sticking to back roads. Ditched his phone. He doesn’t want to call every day, in case they’re checking our phone lines. It all makes sense.”

  Her voice broke on the last word. Hunter stood, immediately drawn to his feet, but she tossed up a hand and strode into her bedroom. The soft click of the door as it closed behind her pierced just the same as if she’d driven a spear into his gut.

  Hunter wasn’t going to let her cry in her room alone.

  Dammit, he wasn’t.

  He opened her bedroom door before he even realized he had crossed the tiny living room. Ever was curled up on the floor beneath her open window. Her body shook with her silent sobs.

  Never in his life had Hunter felt like a whole person. Never in his twenty-three years had he felt like he had enough of his own heart intact to offer a piece of it to someone else.

  But when he looked at Ever, so broken and battered, not physically this time but emotionally, crying in the corner like a lost little girl, something deep inside him snapped into place like the last piece of a puzzle. He was across the room in one step.

  “Ev,” he whispered. “Don’t cry. No, you know what? Fuck that. Cry, baby girl. Cry as hard and for as long as you need to. I’m here. I’ve always been here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

  It was like she’d been trying her damnedest to hold in a rising tide of emotion, and the dam had finally broken. When Hunter opened his arms to her, she collapsed into them. She took a deep, shuddering breath, and the tears continued to flow.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” murmured Hunter. “I got you. I got you. I got you.”

  He repeated the phrase over and over again because he wanted to tattoo it onto her skin. He didn’t want her to ever forget it.

  It was hours. It was minutes. It was seconds. It was days.

  Ever didn’t know how long she cried into Hunter’s shoulder. But when she was finished, she was empty.

  She was empty in more ways than one.

  She sat up, wiped her face dry with the back of her hand, and leaned back against the wall beneath the window.

  “My heart was hurting so bad,” she whispered without meeting Hunter’s intense gaze. “When I feel that way, I always head for the window. But when I got here, I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go.”

  She looked at him, and the pain was so evident in his hazel eyes she wondered why she hadn’t noticed it there before. Had his eyes always looked like that? He could’ve had any girl he wanted in a heartbeat, yet he was always kind of a loner. Not like Sam, who played on the football team and had so many friends in school. It seemed like Hunter didn’t want any of it. He went about his business and kept to himself.

  But the way he was looking at her now, he was completely raw.

  “Hunter?” she asked, uncertain.

  He blinked, and when he refocused his gaze on her it was back to normal. Not so intense, a little bit of playful sparkle. “Yeah?”

  “Nothing.” She suddenly wasn’t sure if she’d ever even seen it.

  “You do have somewhere to go.” His voice was firm. “You have me, Ever. I’m going to be here for you. As long as you need me. I’m right here.”

  She nodded slowly. “Thanks, Hunt. I’m just not used to…you know.”

  He sighed. “To the shoulder you’ve soaked not being Sam’s? Yeah, I know.” He pointed to his sleeve. “I got two of these. On every shirt. You want to soak one, be my guest. In fact, soak all my shirts. I like them better that way. I can cut down on laundry.”

  She smiled. “Can we…can we get out of here?”

  “Wait a minute, Ever. I was about to ask you that! Hey, Ev, you wanna get out of here?”

  She laughed. “Let me get cleaned up.”

  Hunter laughed, too, rubbing the scruff on his chin. “Naw, girl. You don’t need to clean up for where we’re going.”

  He was right. Half an hour later they were trudging through the squelching black mud of the creek bank. This time of year, when spring whispered to them from mere days away, the creek was full and alive. The early evening gave way to twilight, bullfrogs croaking from their hideaway within the willows of the lush landscape.

  “I can’t believe we’re doing this,” said Ever. Her lips curled into a wobbly smile and she realized she’d forgotten how the muscles worked. They felt rusty.

  But Hunter flashed a quick grin right back. “You remember?”


  “Of course I remember! There wasn’t a single summer we weren’t glued to this creek as kids. Wading, fishing, skimming those little smooth pebbles. I can’t believe you remember, Hunter. It’s been a while since the three of us did anything like this.”

  “It’s been a while since the three of us did anything at all.” Hunter baited his line and cast it out into the rippling water.

  Stars were beginning to dot the sky. Ever stared up at them, unable to remember the last time she’d just been outside at night and had a chance to gaze at the wide-open sky.

  They’d begun fishing the creek when they were nine years old. All three of them wanted an escape, a place to go where it would be just them minus all the noise of the world. So they’d scored three old fishing poles when they’d cleaned out a supply closet for the owner of the bait and tackle. A common bond was born that very day, when they had traipsed down to the creek with their brand new-to-them poles in order to hunt for bait.

  Silence stretched between them as they stood on the bank, a comfortable one that enveloped Ever like a warm, soft blanket. The old habit of baiting, casting, and reeling coated her soul.

  “God, I love this spot.” Her quiet tone barely broke through the rippling water and the bullfrogs’ happy chant. “Oh! This is a big one!” The sudden tautness of her line sent a little shiver of excitement through her body.

  “Attagirl!” Hunter stepped up beside her.

  “Oooo,” groaned Ever as she struggled to reel in her line.

  Hunter stepped behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. He took hold of her hands, cradling them in his as he tightened his grip in order to help her pull in her catch.

  “Here we go,” he said, his voice close to her ear. The deep tone made her shiver. Or the breeze made her shiver. She wasn’t sure which. She sucked in a breath, and Hunter’s scent overwhelmed her senses.

  He was the perfect mixture of masculinity and sweetness, a spicy natural fragrance that was just Hunter. She breathed in deeply, taking him in. She closed her eyes to savor him for just a second.

 

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