by J. E. Parker
In that instance, most people would’ve though Shelby was acting like a complete witch. But I knew better. She was purposely tossing a handful of sass Evan’s way in order to shift the target he’d placed on my back to hers.
Unlike me, Shelby was a fighter.
She was strong.
She was fierce.
And there wasn’t a single person on earth whom she was scared to go toe-to-toe with.
I want to be just like her when I grow up.
Evan dropped his arms, reached into his back pocket and pulled out his phone. Then he lifted it in the air.
I nudged Shelby with my shoulder. “What’s he doing? Is he about to—”
“Hey, Shelby,” Evan called out, a smile on his face. “Say cheese.”
The flash from his phone’s camera went off, and Shelby’s mouth gaped. “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”
Evan tapped his fingers against the screen of his phone. “Oh, but I am.” Hooking his thumb, he pointed over his shoulder toward the rear entrance of the parking lot. “Saw Detective Moretti leaving the station when I drove by a few minutes ago. I bet he’ll be here within the next—” He stopped speaking when a black Tahoe pulled into the parking lot before coming to a sliding stop. “Minute.”
“Shit.” Shelby hissed from beside me when a pissed off looking Anthony jumped out of the still running SUV holding his phone in his hand. “I’m soooo going to kill your future husband, Hope.”
Wait. What?
Future husband?
“Sunshine,” Anthony yelled up at Shelby. “What are you doing on the fire escape?” His eyes dropped to the bottle of wine sitting by her feet. “And are you fucking drinking?” Shelby remained silent. Anthony, however, had plenty to say. “I thought we talked about this. You know better than to put yourself in dangerous situations.” His gaze dipped before raking over her entire body. “But you didn’t listen, and now you’ll have to face the consequences.”
Suddenly, I felt like I was in the midst of a conversation I had no business in.
I watched with bated breath as a sneaky smile spread across Shelby’s face.
And here we go... Again.
She looked at me. “Remember how you told me that whatever feelings Evan had for you had disappeared?”
Unable to reply, I merely nodded.
“Well, sugar”—Shelby reached over and pushed a stray lock of hair out of my face—“you were wrong.” Before I could get a word in, she continued, “Look at him.” I did. “A man doesn’t react like that for no reason. He doesn’t get emotional, he doesn’t get fired up, he doesn’t do any of that unless he gives a shit.” She took a step forward, closing the small gap between us. “Whether or not you believe it, he loves you, Hope. I see it. Maddie sees it. Hell, even Anthony sees it.”
“Shelby, I—”
She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and shook her head before pressing a lone finger to my lips. “Trust me. I know men. And that one”—she pointed at Evan—“is gone for you.”
Her words hit me in the chest, and a small spark of hope flared to life within me.
Does he love me?
Confusion set in.
If he does, then why does he keep me at arm’s length?
Heart pounding, I looked down at the two men glaring up at us.
“What do we do now?” My nerves sizzled with an emotion I didn’t recognize. “I mean, they don’t look so happy.”
Shelby’s reply was quick. “Now,” she said, “we run.”
I froze. “What? What do you mean—”
Before I could finish asking her what the heck she was talking about, Shelby leaned over the rail and winked down at Anthony. “You have to catch me before you can punish me, Stud Muffin.” Under her breath, she mumbled, “And boy do I hope you catch me quickly.”
Without so much as another glance in my direction, she hopped across the fire escape and climbed back through the window, leaving the wine bottle and glasses behind.
Her laughter rang out as she took off down the hallway and hid in one of the empty rooms that lined the third floor opposite Evan and I’s apartment.
Wearing a salacious smile, Anthony gave chase.
It only took him a second to disappear through the back door.
I gulped when my gaze met Evan’s.
Instinctively, I took a step toward the window.
He shook his head. “Don’t you do it, little bit. You run across that shaky ass fire escape like Shelby did and I swear you’ll regret it.”
Feeling bold—must be from some of Shelby’s residual energy—I took another step backward. “Yeah? And what are you going to do, big guy?” I sounded cocky, something I never was. “Are you going to chase me?
I kind of hope you do.
Evan scowled. “Don’t you do it, Hope. If you do, I—”
I turned around and dove through the open window that led to our shared apartment. Outside, I could hear Evan cursing up a storm. Smiling to myself, I stood in the center of the living room and spun in circles, searching for the best place to hide.
I’d finally decided on running to my room and climbing underneath my bed—it’s a good thing I’m tiny—when the apartment door burst open, and a livid looking Evan stepped inside. Shoulders set, his hands were clenched into tight fists.
The man looked fit to be tied.
The image of him so mad would’ve had scared anyone else.
As for me? I wasn’t scared the least little bit.
Because come hell or high water, Evan would never hurt me.
Not physically anyway.
When his eyes found me, I gulped before offering him a small wave. “Hi, big guy.”
Unspeaking, he slammed the door shut behind him.
My last thought as he took a step toward me? I’m in trouble.
Big. Trouble.
Eight
Hope
“Have you lost your damn mind?” Evan asked, advancing toward me. “I’ve told you not to go out there at least a hundred fucking times, Hope.” He gritted his teeth. “It’s dangerous.”
I shifted my weight between my feet. “I was careful.”
“Careful, huh?” Another step forward. “Is that why you were drinking out there?”
Oh, for Pete’s sake!
“I had two sips, Evan, so chill out.” His right eye twitched. It wouldn’t have surprised me if he popped a blood vessel. “It’s not a big deal. I got off work and wanted to relax while I waited for Mama to get home and call me. I went out on the fire escape to watch the sunset and Shelby joined me a few minutes later.” Twisting a loose lock of hair around my finger, I tried my best to appear nonchalant. “As I said, it’s not a big deal.”
“So you were drinking alcohol on a third-story fire escape, which I might add, hasn’t been inspected in years, and you don't think that's a big deal? Is that what you’re telling me?” His voice was eerily calm. When I didn’t reply right away, he grew agitated. “Answer. Me.”
I jumped at his abrupt change in tone. “Yes!” I shrieked. “That’s what I’m telling you.”
He rubbed his hands down his face. “Un-fucking-believable.” Dropping his hands, he looked at me with disbelieving eyes. “Baby, you might be the smartest woman I’ve ever met, but you’ve got shit for common sense.”
I jerked as if he’d slapped me. “Excuse me?”
Evan’s eyes flashed, and a look of regret washed over his features. The look, however, was fleeting. “Don’t step foot on that fire escape again, Hope,” he snapped sounding angrier than before. “Going out there is reckless, not to mention stupid.” His hard eyes bored into me, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear. I swear, at that moment, I wouldn’t have complained if the floor had opened up and swallowed me whole. “First thing tomorrow morning I’m talking to Maddie about having it repaired or removed,” he continued before pausing. “Maybe then I won’t have to worry about you and Shelby disregarding every damn thing I say a
nd getting hurt.”
“Evan, I didn’t—” He shifted his stance, and I glimpsed his swollen jaw. He turned away from me, but I still saw it. It was kind of hard to miss.
And just like that, my irritation at him for speaking to me so harshly vanished in the blink of an eye. “Wait, what happened to you?” I rushed forward intent on reaching him, but he put his hands up, warding me off.
“Stop,” he said, his eyes locked on the wall beside me. “Just stop.”
I shook my head. “You’re hurt.” Tears filled my eyes, blurring my vision. “I don’t understand. What happened?” Evan closed his eyes, raised his hand, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you get in a fight?"
“Don’t worry about it.”
Did he think I wouldn’t worry? I mean, come on!
When he started walking toward his bedroom, I followed right behind him.
“What do you mean”—I curled my fingers into air quotes—“don’t worry about it? Of course, I’m going to worry about it! You’re hurt, and it’s obvious someone hit you. Now tell me who did it and why.” Anger coursed through my veins and I gained a whole new understanding of the term murderous rage. I couldn’t stand the thought of someone hurting Evan.
Even if he is a big jerk.
Evan stopped in the middle of the hall and spun around to face me. “Yeah?” He cocked his head to the side, giving me a better view of the lump on his jaw. It was turning purple. Come morning it would resemble a deformed eggplant. “And what are you going to do if someone did? Go beat them up?”
I blinked.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I did my best to appear fierce. I’m sure I failed miserably. “Listen, big guy…” Unsure of what else to say, my voice trailed off.
You can do this. Channel your inner Shelby.
Adding a heavy dose of starch to my spine, I stood straight. “As I was saying”—Evan’s upper lip twitched; he was fighting back a smile—“I want the who, what, when, where, why, and how.” I raised a brow, waiting for him to reply. When he didn’t, I threw my hands up in the air. “Spill it, Evan!"
For a moment, just a small fraction of a second, Evan looked like he may laugh.
But then his entire persona changed.
Uh oh. It looks like Mr. Serious is back.
He shook his head and pointed back toward the living room. “Go sit down. I’ve got to shower and then I’ve got shit to handle downstairs before I go to bed.”
“Evan—”
My words were cut off when the shrill sound of my cell phone ringing cut through the air.
Startled, I jerked in place.
“Answer the phone, Hope.” Evan walked past me. “I’m going downstairs to check in with Chris. Talk to your mom.”
“Thought you had to shower?” I sounded like a fussy wife. Didn’t care though.
Not answering my question, he kept walking. “And for fuck’s sake don’t be an idiot and climb back out on the fire escape!”
His words hurt but they also made me angry.
I gritted my teeth, lifted my middle finger in the air and flipped his back off.
Take that, butthead.
Ignoring the walking hormone headed out the door, I huffed out a breath and pulled my phone out of my back pocket. After tapping the green accept call icon on the screen, I pressed it to my ear. “Hey, Mama.”
Evan left, slamming the door shut behind him.
“Hey, sugar pea.” Her comforting voice soothed my battered soul. “Sorry, I’m a little late calling. Today was hectic at work, and I just walked in the door.”
I headed for the kitchen. “It’s okay.” Opening the fridge, I pulled out the plate of food I’d already prepared and stuck it in the microwave. I could hear Mama doing the same thing.
Every Friday Mama and I ate supper together on the phone. We couldn’t do it in person, so this was the next best thing. It was our way of keeping our family tradition of eating meals together alive. Before he was killed, Ryker used to join us when he could.
But now he’s gone. He’ll never eat supper with us again.
An all too familiar pain streaked through my chest at the reminder.
I let out a drawn-out breath in response.
“Hope,” Mama called my name. “Honey, talk to me.”
Even with hundreds of miles separating her from me, Mama knew when something was wrong. She called it maternal instinct, but I think it was more than that. Daddy had always referred to her as an angel in disguise, and I believed him.
Heavens knows nobody in this world has a purer heart than my Mama.
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the front of the microwave. “It’s just been a rough day.”
“Nope,” Mama replied. “That doesn't work for me. Spill the beans, baby. Else I'm going to hop in the car and start driving.”
“Okay then, I’m keeping my mouth shut.”
Mama laughed. “Smartypants.” The sound of running water filled the background. “Now quit fiddling with my chain and talk.”
“First, I’ve been dealing with Children’s Services all day.”
“For what?” Mama asked, her voice full of concern.
“Remember Ashley? The teenage runaway that showed up outside the Shelter about six months ago?”
“Yeah, sugar pea, I do. How are things going with her?”
“Well, she’s the reason I was dealing with Children’s Services. Shelby applied to become a foster so that Ashley could live with her. And of course, the county is dragging their feet to approve her application.”
And being total jerks about certain parts of Shelby’s application. Things like the fact that she isn’t married. The whole thing was stupid.
“It’s not healthy for Ashley. She feels like she’s stuck in limbo and is terrified of being sent back to her mother.”
That was something I’d never allow to happen. I didn’t care if I had to put Ashley in my car and drive away with her myself, she wasn’t going back to Kentucky where she grew up.
“And Shelby is all stressed out because she wants to take Ashley home with her and it’s just… well, it’s a mess.”
“That’s awful,” Mama replied. “Hopefully it works out soon. If not, you call me and we’ll figure it out. You know I won’t think twice before bringing her here, the law be damned. They can lock me up and throw away the key for all I care, but I’ll be gosh danged if I let them send that girl back to the hell from which she escaped.” Mama slammed something down on the other end of the phone. I could practically see the steam that I knew was coming out of her ears. “It isn’t right.”
I smiled as relief washed through me. “I’ll definitely call you if we need to hide her.”
Because there’s no way she’s going back. I’ll go to jail first.
“So,” Mama continued, changing the subject. “What else is wrong? I know you, baby, and I know it isn’t just Children’s Services that has you all upset.”
I rubbed my hand down the side of my face and sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Start at the beginning.”
Just tell her the truth. She’s your mother. She’ll understand.
“Earlier, I was sitting on the fire escape after I got off work and I started thinking about him.” I didn’t need to explain who him was. Mama knew. “I was talking to him, and Shelby overheard me. And well, one thing led to another—”
“Say no more, baby, I understand.” Mama sounded sad. The abrupt change in her mood from when she first called made me feel like complete and utter crap.
I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I”—tears filled my eyes—“I miss him so much.” I sucked in a breath and added, “I know I’m supposed to move on, to heal, but the smallest things remind me of him…”
And it makes the agony return tenfold, I mentally added.
My lower lip trembled. “Shouldn’t it be easier by now?”
Mama was silent for a few beats. Then, “No, honey, it shouldn’t. Wh
oever said loss gets easier with time, well, they lied.” My heart sunk at her words. “As time passes, you may not feel it as much, but the pain will always be there.” She sniffled, and I knew she was about to cry… if she wasn’t already. “Baby, your daddy has been gone thirteen years, and I still feel the pain of missing him every single day.” The microwave beeped, so I popped the door open to stop the incessant noise. “As for Ryker,” Mama continued, “he was my oldest child and my only son. I’ll never get over him passing away before me. Lord knows no mother should ever have to bury her child.” Before I could reply, she kept speaking. “And he was your big brother.” Her voice grew softer, quieter. “In all my years, I have never seen a brother and sister as close as you two. You idolized him, and he protected you like a rare jewel. I swear y’all should’ve been twins.”
“Mama—”
“What I’m saying, sugar pea, is that with a bond as strong as you two shared, a day won’t pass that you don’t feel that heart-wrenching pain that comes with losing him.” The words she spoke were the truth. I knew that. That didn’t mean I wanted to believe them though. “But I’m about to tell you something.” Mama’s voice changed. Her tone grew harder, sterner. It reminded me of when Ry and I were little and did something we weren’t supposed to do. It was the tone she used when she meant business. “And you will listen to every word I say.”
Oh boy. Here we go.
I crossed the kitchen and leaned against the fridge before wrapping my free arm around my belly. “Yes, ma’am,” I replied, knowing she was waiting for me to acknowledge her demand I listen to whatever she was about to say. “I’ll listen.”
“I know you will,” she replied. “It’s no secret how much your brother loved you, Hope.” No, it wasn’t. Even though I drove him crazy most of the time, Ryker had loved me with a ferocity I doubted I’d ever experience again. “All he wanted was for you to be happy.”