Where I End Read online

  They stop in the doorway. "Evie," Cy greets in his deep voice. He's still the only one who calls me that. Never Eve.

  Even after all these years, his voice still does something to me. Back in high school, it used to send a chill of fear down my spine but also drew me in when he was close. Now, it makes me shiver with want, then hate myself for thinking about him that way. He's still an arrogant asshole. He might have grown up, and physically matured very nicely, but I can't forget the way he treated me. Those scars are always with me, making me doubt myself and my self-worth.

  Today he's wearing a black t-shirt, which is tight over his muscular arms and a little loose in the stomach. I know from seeing him in nothing but shorts that he is chiseled perfection. Broad chest, powerful arms, rock hard abs, which lead to the sinful V of his waist. Perfection I have no business admiring. My body is a traitor to my mind, as are my eyes. I can't change the way I react to him and believe me I've tried.

  He leans against the doorway and crosses one ankle over the other while his arm is thrown over his slut's shoulders. The khaki shorts he's wearing are like Parker's, only Parker doesn't fill them out the way Cy does.

  When my eyes reach back to Cy's, I notice his eyebrow is cocked at me in question. He doesn't say anything about me checking him out. Ever since I started working for his mom, he stopped being a dick to me. Stopped talking to me almost altogether, as a matter of fact. He'll say my name in greeting or a singular word here or there, but that's it. Don't get me wrong, he's still a colossal douchebag, but I'll take minimal words instead of the bullshit he used to pull with me in high school.

  I flip him off. He barks out a laugh then nudges his flavor of the day toward the front door.

  Parker winks at me and says, "See you later, sexy."

  Cy's head whips around to give Parker a hard glare. I ignore it and respond, "Only if by later you mean when you're daydreaming of me with your hand wrapped around your dick."

  "Damn straight," he laughs. Cy shoulders him, pushing him out of my office.

  Years have gone by and I still can’t figure out Cy. The time between graduation and when I started working for Risa, I never saw him. Then my dad got a job transfer to Florida. I had the choice to move with them or stay here and take over my mom's job. I chose to stay. I'm not completely sure why. Yes, I know the area, having lived here for years, but there is nothing holding me here with my parents gone. Yet, here I am. There was something in my gut telling me not to go. Luckily, I had enough money saved to put a deposit down on an apartment.

  Risa emerges from her office. "Did I hear Parker?"

  "Yup."

  "Then Cy must have been here as well."

  "Yeah, he was."

  "I wish he would find someone nice and settle down. It’s time he stopped bringing home a different girl every night. He's never had a serious girlfriend."

  "Never?" I ask. I would have thought at some point he would have been with the same woman for longer than a couple of days.

  "No. I don't think he's found her yet. Or, he has and doesn't realize it." She gives me a pointed stare.

  "Oh, no you don't. You know I wish him no ill will, but that is never going to happen."

  "I’ve seen the way he looks at you."

  I laugh. "You mean with utter distaste?"

  "No, it's something else entirely. He only does it when you're not looking. Like he's cataloging everything about you. It's very intense." She turns to go back into her office. "I've asked him about you, but he immediately shuts down. Maybe you'd have better luck talking to him."

  "Maybe a unicorn will knock on my door and ask me to ride it to a faraway land," I mutter.

  "What was that?" she calls from her office.

  "Don't forget you have a call in fifteen."

  "Thanks for the reminder!"

  "You're welcome."

  I spend the rest of the day nailing down her itinerary for her trip early next week. She's going to California for five days and always likes to see a list of her meetings in advance of her leaving. I go over my own checklist to make sure I've got everything arranged, from car services to flights to the hotel reservation. I like to do this days in advance, so if changes need to be made there is time.

  Risa begs me to stay and have dinner, since she knows there is only something frozen waiting for me at home. After repeatedly telling her I can't, I give in. There's no use arguing with her. I don't have a clue why I try every time she invites me to stay, which is usually twice a week when she's home and not traveling. Hell, even when she is traveling she tells me to drive over here for a home-cooked meal. With my parents far away, it's nice to have someone looking out for me. Someone to make sure I'm not wasting away, eating a three-dollar meal from the frozen section of the grocery store.

  We take a seat in their large dining room. There's a long, wooden table that seats eight. Risa sits at the head while her husband, Everett, takes a seat at the opposite end. He’s not always here when I stay for dinner. More times than not, he’s working late. He smiles warmly at me and makes small talk. He's a partner in an accounting firm. I think they've been married fifteen years or so. She doesn't share his last name. Risa had already been well into her career when they married, and she didn’t want to change her name. She kept the last name of her first husband, who was Cy's father. He died when Cy was three years old. I always wondered how Everett felt about that. Did he care that his wife didn’t share his name? Then again, times have changed, and women don’t always take their spouse’s name.

  Dinner is being served when Cy walks in. He pauses for a moment when he sees me. It’s not the first time we’ve eaten dinner at the same table, but it’s certainly not common. He’s absent more than Everett.

  "Well, isn't this cozy?" Cy sneers at no one in particular as he takes a seat.

  I ignore him and start eating. The faster I swallow all this food, the faster I can get the fuck out of here. While I eat, I focus on the off-white wallpaper with its subtle swirls. That or the crystal chandelier overhead. Anything really except Cy. Never him. Not while I have Risa on one side of me and Everett on the other. The tension in the air is palpable. It's like I’m in the middle of one gigantic time bomb, waiting for it to explode.

  It's well known that Cy and Everett don't get along. I've heard enough from my mother, when she was working here, and the tiny amount I've picked up since I've been employed. They fight and it’s the kind of arguments where there is yelling, and it makes me uncomfortable. My parents never fought loudly. When I misbehaved, I would get a stern talking to. That was it.

  Deciding the best course of action is to focus strictly on my food, as not to catch anyone's gaze on me, I take bite after bite. I'm almost done. Only two pieces left. Two perfectly cooked pieces of prime rib. Too bad I'm so uncomfortable I can't enjoy it.

  "Stop it," Cy growls. My head snaps up as I look at him across the table from me. With my eyes on him, I know he's not watching me. No. It's Everett he's warning.

  "I don't know what your issue is, but I suggest you calm down," Everett tries warning him back, but by the look of Cy's face, there's no way he’s going to relax.

  "Do it again, and we're going to have a problem."

  Everett places his napkin on the table and pushes his chair out. Before he can stand, Risa speaks up. "That's enough from both of you. Stay seated in those chairs, and eat your dinner. We have a guest, remember?"

  Everyone shifts their focus to me. Oh, hell no. I shove the last piece of meat into my mouth and chew like I never have before. With as much politeness as I can muster, I place my napkin on the table, thank Risa for dinner, and bid everyone a good night.

  I practically run from the dining room. When I reach my desk, I grab my purse and make the short dash to the front door. I'm out of it in seconds, not wanting to make the walk to the garage. I wanted to be outside as fast as possible.

  Four steps from the house and I hear the door open behind me. So fucking close. I don't turn around. I honestly don'
t want to know who it is. My car is calling to me, and the road in front of Risa's house has never looked so good. I keep walking, ignoring whoever it is.

  "Evie, stop." Son of a bitch. Cy came after me? Really? Risa couldn't have held his ass in the house until I was safely down the driveway?

  My feet stop at his voice, although I don't turn toward him. I stay staring down at the pavers—the path which will lead me to my Jetta. So close and yet so very far. Should I respond to him? No, I’m not the one who has something to say.

  He walks around me until he's standing less than a foot from me. His black hair hangs on to his forehead. He brushes it back, giving me unrestricted access to his crystal blue eyes. In all my twenty-four years, I can't remember seeing eyes so beautiful on anyone. I send a silent thank you to whomever created Daylight Savings Time. If it were winter, I wouldn’t have been able to see him so clearly, since the sun sets far sooner. He quickly averts his eyes.

  "I just..." he starts, then rakes a hand through his hair. "He shouldn't have..." Why is he having such a hard time completing a sentence? Also, this is the most he's said to me in months. I wait for him to continue; however, he's far too upset to do so. He keeps looking around me, out to the street, behind him, anywhere but my face as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

  "I really should be going." I'm not sure what else to say. Cy and I don't talk. We don't have conversations, and this is awkward as hell.

  He nods but doesn't step off the path. Okay then. I move to step around him. At the same time, his hand reaches up to gently catch my arm just below my elbow. I tense as chills race up my arm. His eyes are focused on the ground behind me. "I'm sorry."

  It takes a second for me to compose myself. The chills are still there; my hair stands on end where his fingers gently hold my arm. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

  He drops my arm as if I'm toxic and takes a step away. "I do."

  Despite his retreat, I stand in place and don't run to my car. "It was only dinner. It's fine." It wasn't fine at the time, and none of this is fine right now, but I need to say something to end this awkwardness. I’m not sure which is worse. Whatever the hell happened at dinner, or standing outside with Cy.

  "That's not the only thing I'm apologizing for," he whispers.

  The meaning of his words slams into me with the force of a freight train. I'm transported back to high school. Back to every horrible moment I had, thanks to him. My heart starts to race as panic sets in.

  When I can finally form words, I open my mouth but he's gone. That's my cue to get in my car and try to figure out what the hell just happened.

  Two

  Eve

  It's Friday and thank fuck for that. Risa leaves tomorrow for California, which means I get to work from home next week. No Cy. No Everett. No craziness. Well, to be fair, everything has been quiet since dinner the other night. I haven't seen either of them and I'm grateful. Just Risa and I. Or just me, for that matter. I came back from picking up her dry cleaning and dropping off mail at the post office to find she's not anywhere to be found. There's nothing strange about that, though. It's her home. She sometimes disappears, and I just keep plugging away. I have plenty to keep me busy.

  I'm flipping through the mail I picked up at the post office when I hear shouting. Then, more shouting. I lean to the right a little to try and get a glimpse of what is going on, but I can't see anything. Maybe it's just Cy and Everett fighting again. All I can make out is a male voice. Everett comes home sometimes for lunch, since he doesn’t work too far from home.

  "I'm done, Risa. He's beyond spoiled!" Everett yells. I lean back in hopes of no one seeing me trying to eavesdrop.

  "Where are you going?" she cries.

  "Out."

  "Don't leave. Not like this," she pleads with such emotion in her voice. I've never heard her sound like this before. Instantly, I’m worried.

  He doesn't respond. The next sound I hear is a door slamming in the distance. He must have left through the garage. Risa sniffles then runs back through the house––her heels clicking quickly over the tile floor. I get up from my desk and follow her. Something happened. Maybe I can help. Or maybe I'm just being nosy and want to know what's going on.

  I slowly walk through the house to the back sliding door off the living room. The screen door is the only thing shut. Shouting reaches me. Shouting coming from Cy. I stay near the wall, so no one can see me.

  "You just proved your point!" Cy yells at Risa.

  "Me? He left because of you."

  "You would take his side, wouldn't you? Never mind. You've made it clear from day one he is more important than me."

  Her hands are balled into fists by her side. I've never seen her this angry. In fact, I've never heard her yell at all. "You're my son! I always put you first."

  Cy barks out a humorless laugh. "I'm third, if not lower, on your priority list. Your job is first. Then Everett. Shit, I think Evie even ranks higher than me." Why the hell am I being brought in to this? I have nothing to do with their fight.

  I slowly move forward until they’re both in my view. They are standing on the back patio next to their infinity edge pool.

  "Stop it. She has nothing to do with this."

  "You're right," he responds. "This is about me, you, and that asshole of a husband you have."

  "I can't keep doing this with you. It's the same argument over and over."

  Cy drops his head. His grey t-shirt is slightly billowing in the breeze. His dark hair hangs onto his forehead, instead of being brushed back like it usually is. The sides of his head and around the back are all shaved close to his head. His arms hang limply by his side.

  "You're right," he says solemnly. "It needs to end." He reaches into the back waistband of jeans and withdrawals a black handgun. Whoa. Where did Cy get a gun from? A nine millimeter, at that.

  My dad used to keep one at home, just in case. When I was older, he would take me to the shooting range, teach me how to handle a gun properly, and how to shoot it. He didn't want me to fear guns but to be knowledgeable. And the gun Cy is currently holding already has a magazine clip loaded into it. Once he put the clip in, a round went into the chamber. One pull of the trigger is all it will take to fire.

  "What are you doing?" Risa gasps. "Why do you have a gun?"

  "I knew it would come to this."

  Cy drops to his knees on the stone pavers. He slowly brings the barrel of the gun to his head, pointing it straight at his right temple. His finger hovers over the trigger. I step forward on instinct, wanting to help, but Risa’s voice halts me in my tracks.

  "Stop!" Risa yells. "Please don't do this."

  "You knew," Cy's voice cracks with emotion as his eyes hold hers. "For years, I told you what he was doing, and you did nothing. You pretended it wasn't happening. How could you? I'm your son! Your fucking blood and you let him put his hands on me. You let him abuse me." A tear runs down Cy's cheek.

  Risa's hand flies to her mouth as a muffled sob leaves her lips. "I didn't...there was nothing..."

  "Bullshit! You knew! I was twelve when I first told you. You blew me off. Then I told you at least once, every single year, until it stopped when I turned eighteen. He had a special birthday gift for me that year. You could have called the police. You could have kicked him out! But you didn’t. No, you sided with him. Telling me I was lying and your precious husband would never do that to me. I showed you the bruises! I showed you the blood!" He presses the gun harder to the side of his head.

  My mind spins with all I'm hearing. Everett had been abusing Cy and Risa knew, yet did nothing? How could she? Cy is her son, and she picked her husband over him. His word over her own child’s.

  Risa cries harder. She sits down on a chair and puts her head in her hands.

  "I can't take it anymore," Cy chokes out. "Six years I endured his torture. Then I dealt with six years of him threatening me. He said he would do it again. Every time I stepped out of line, he would tell me he'd visit my
bedroom and teach me a lesson. Luckily, he hasn't set foot in there since I became an adult. No more! I can't live like this." The finger he hovers over the trigger moves.

  "No!" I cry as I rush from the house. I can't stand here and do nothing. I can't watch him end his life.

  Cy turns toward me, the gun still pressed to his head. "Evie?"

  I drop to the ground in front of him. My skirt rides up as the stone pavers dig into my knees, but I don't care. Nothing matters except getting Cy to drop the gun.

  "Please give me the gun,” I plead and hold out my palm. I've never dealt with anything like this before. I'm moving and talking on pure instinct. I don't want anything happening to Cy. Everything in our past is forgotten. None of it matters now. Only him. Only saving his life.

  "Go," he tells me. "Please." The emotion in his voice has me blinking back tears. I hate seeing him like this. He's always been so confident. Never broken. But then again, I didn't know him all too well.

  "No. I won't leave you," I say firmly.

  "I don't want you mixed up in this."

  "And I don't want you to take your life."

  "Leave and let me do this, Evie." He squeezes his eyes shut and a couple of tears fall. I hear Risa behind me crying still. If I weren't worried about Cy, I'd get up and backhand her for being such a poor excuse for a mother. She isn't the person I thought she was.

  "I can't leave you, Cy. Please," I beg as emotion creeps its way into my throat, giving away how the situation is affecting me. "Give me the gun. I don't want to lose you."

  His eyes open at my words and hold me in his gaze. "I'm no one. I'm not worth your attention."

  "You're worth it and so much more." I hesitantly reach out to take his free hand in mine. He grips me hard like I'm his lifeline; the only tether he has to this world. Maybe I am. Maybe I'm exactly who he needs to show him he's worth saving.