Where I End Page 7

  Her hand freezes as she slowly lifts her head. "Then why?"

  I shouldn't have said anything, because now I have to answer her, and I don't want to. So, I say nothing.

  "Fine. Whatever. Don't speak to me, but you're the one who came out here, not the other way around." She pauses for a moment. "Why were you with Tasha?"

  There’s no point in lying. I don’t want her to think I’m fucking Tasha. "I ran into her at the doctor’s office. She was waiting for someone, so we went to get coffee. That’s it. "

  "It doesn’t matter. I know you’re lying to me. Why I care, I have no clue."

  I stop myself from reaching out for her. My hands fist at my sides to keep them to myself. "I have no reason to lie to you. Honest, Evie. "

  She waves me off with a flick of her wrist, dismissing the conversation and anything else I have to say about it. So, I change the subject. "You have no way to get home."

  "Not yet, but I will."

  "I'm pretty sure you could have found a cab company by now." The closest place is the next town over. She keeps scrolling. What the hell is she looking for?

  "Don't you think I know that?" she huffs. Her eyes blaze with anger. "I'm so fucking frustrated I can't think straight enough to do a simple task."

  I look over my shoulder and notice a few people inside the pizza place are watching us. "Let me take you home."

  "I don't think that's a good idea."

  "Evie, you have no way to get home, and I do. Just get in." I unlock the truck and walk over to open the passenger side door.

  "Fine." She stomps over and gets inside. I get a perfect view of her ass as she puts her foot on the running board then grips the handle to pull herself up. What I wouldn’t have given to palm it and give her a little assistance. Shit, I can’t think this way. I close the door and round the hood to the driver's side.

  We don't speak as I drive us back. With her closed in my truck and the windows up, her scent wraps around me, making me want to pull over to the side of the road and gather her in my arms. It's dangerous being this close and alone with her.

  We finally reach her apartment after what feels like a solid hour in the truck, though it’s only been a matter of minutes. I barely have the truck in park before she's jumping out and walking to the stairs. I kill the engine and race after her, not giving any thought to what I’m going to say when I reach her. She's fast as hell. I don't catch her until she's on the second flight, almost to her door.

  "Evie, wait," I say, as I grip her by the elbow to stop her.

  She shakes me off. Her eyes narrow. "You don't get to chase me. Not after the way you've made it crystal clear you don't want anything to do with me."

  "It's not that simple."

  "No? Then explain it to me, because I'm not understanding why one minute you want me to stay with you and the next you are running out of my apartment like you can't bear to be in the same room as me."

  I rake my hand through my hair. "God dammit, Evie, why can't you just leave things as they are?"

  "As they are? Like how you completely stopped talking to me, then show up at dinner and expect me to be fine seeing you again?"

  "It's for the best that you're not around me."

  She points her finger at my chest, mere inches from touching me. "You don't get to decide what's best for me."

  "I do when I’m involved."

  "Seriously? What about high school? Was all that shit you put me through best for me? Were you seeking me out, day after day, only to torment me, for the best? Because, as I remember it, those were far from the best days of my life. As a matter of fact, I've been living in a perpetual hell for quite some time now."

  My anger is rising to meet hers, but mixed with mine is also shame and regret for all I'd done to her in the past. "You've been living in hell? Fine. I'll take credit for everything I dragged you through in high school. I was a grade A dick. I should never have done to you what I did, and for that I will always hate myself. You didn't deserve any of it. But right now, as we stand at this moment, it's better if I leave you alone."

  She throws her hands up in the air then back down to her sides. "Then why the hell did you follow me up here, Cy?"

  "Because I can't fucking walk away from you! Because every waking moment of every fucking day, I think about you!" I'm breathing heavy, my chest rising and falling. I can only imagine how feral I look.

  Evie stumbles back until her ass hits the railing. "What?"

  All my anger slowly leaves me. She's right. I should never have followed her. I would have been better off staying in my truck. "Never mind." I turn and walk down a few steps, but then she's behind me, grabbing my arm, turning the tables.

  "Oh, no you don't. You don't get to come after me, say all you did, and walk away like none of it ever happened."

  "Can't you see, Evie? I'm no good for you. Every time I'm near you, shit gets out of hand. You're better off without me in your life."

  "No, I'm not."

  "I only bring pain with me. Nothing more. I can't offer you anything when I'm hollow inside." I rub the center of my chest, feeling the familiar ache that resides there without Evie in my life. Yet, as she stands before me, looking so fucking beautiful, the ache is still there because she isn’t mine. I can’t and shouldn’t touch her. I should turn away and leave her, but I’m frozen in place.

  She lays her hand over mine on my chest and peers up into my eyes. "You're not hollow. You have good in you. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here right now. There's a part of you that wants to be near me. Just as there is a part of me that longs to be near you."

  I close my eyes for only a moment before gently removing her hand from mine. It's sheer torture to do so, but I know I must. "I have to go."

  "Please, don't." She doesn't understand how being this close to her is driving me crazy. I’ve got to get out of here. Distance needs to be put between us. I turn and start down the steps again.

  "If you leave now, don't you dare come back," she says, causing me to stop in my tracks. "I mean it, Cy. You can't keep toying with me. I want you here. With me." I keep my back to her, unable to look into her eyes. If I do, I'll give in. "I don't care about what happened in high school," she continues. "None of it matters. Only what is happening right here, right now. Stay with me. Please." The pleading of her voice almost has me turning. Almost.

  I shake my head and go down the remaining stairs; all the while telling myself it's better this way. Sure, my heart feels like it's being ripped from my chest. But she needs to find someone who will lift her up, be the man she needs. Not someone who is broken beyond repair and will only drag her down into the bleak abyss with him.

  ****

  I walk inside Parker's cabin and find him sitting on the couch with the remote in his hand, flipping from channel to channel. The living room is open to the dining room and kitchen. It's one massive room with high ceilings and floor to ceiling windows.

  He turns on the dark leather couch to face me. "What the hell are you doing here? Why aren't you with Eve?" he asks.

  "I'm done. I'm not going to see her again. She said if I walked away that was it. There’s no going back. So, I left."

  He shakes his head. "I know you're not that fucking stupid. Why would you walk away from her?"

  "Why would you have dinner with her, knowing I'd show up?" I yell. "You did it on purpose! And look where it got me. Here. With you."

  He stands and walks toward me. "You did that yourself. You had the perfect opportunity to talk to her, to tell her how you feel, and you fucked it up. Don't put that on me."

  "I never would have been in that situation if you hadn’t pushed me!"

  "Pushed you? You act like I shoved you in your fucking truck and forced you to drive down there. All I did was tell you where we’d be.”

  “Knowing I’d follow you!”

  He shrugs. “We all need a nudge sometimes. This was yours. Don't worry, though. I'm done now. No more from me. I'll butt out. I will not stop talking to
Eve, however. She's a good person, and she has no one in her life. Don't you understand that? Your mom was all she had. Her family is far away. She has no real friends. I won’t stop talking to her just because you did." I turn and walk away from him to my room. He shouts after me, "You can't keep running from your problems, Cy!"

  I spin and make long strides back until he's right in front of me. "Run? You think I'm running? I have to deal with my problems every fucking minute of every fucking day. Every waking hour causes me pain. It's either a flashback to one of the many God-awful moments of my life, or it's Evie's face and the way she looked at me when I tried to end this fucking misery I live in. Yet, here I am. I'm not running! I'm facing my shit, every motherfucking day. I go to therapy. I take medication to help keep me from wanting to kill myself. If I were running, I'd run toward death, because it’s the only thing that would give me relief at this point." My shoulders slump and I hang my head, completely deflated.

  "No, it's not. You have me. You have Eve. Stop pushing her away. Give yourself a shot at being happy. You deserve it more than anyone else I know. She's the real deal, Revere. She doesn't give a shit about your money or how many friends you have. She cares about you for who you are—the man whose eyes she looked into and knew there was something special about him."

  I lift my head and walk over to sit on the couch. "There's nothing special about me. You're my only friend. All the others are just acquaintances."

  "You have her, too."

  "Not anymore. I walked away. I can't bring her down with me.”

  “Maybe she's just what you need to pull you up. Listen, I'm supposed to meet someone tonight. I can cancel or you can come downtown with me. Could be fun."

  I lay my head back on the couch. "Nah, I'm not going to crash your date. Have fun."

  "Date? I'm just meeting her at a bar."

  "Okay, then I don't need to crash your hook-up."

  "Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone if you're not good." He thinks the moment he leaves I'm going to off myself.

  "If I were going to take my life, I would have done it by now. Don't worry. I'll still be breathing when you get back."

  "Good. I kind of like you, and the last thing I want is to tell Eve you're gone. As much as you think this is over between the two of you, it would crush her if you died. Remember that."

  I close my eyes and don't respond. He said what he needed to, so I wouldn't kill myself. The thought of inflicting more pain on Evie than I already have makes me sick to my stomach. It's the last thing I want to do. I'll stay alive and stay away from her. I'll keep going to therapy and working.

  Maybe I can find someone to keep me company for a bit tonight. I reach into my pocket for my phone and start scrolling through my contacts. So many names drift by; all ones I could call in an instant and they would be here with their bodies bare, ready for me. I reach the bottom of my list and toss the phone onto the couch.

  I don't think I can sink my dick into someone other than Evie. My mind would instantly go to her, and I'd wish whoever is beneath me was her. But isn't that what I've been doing all these years? Fucking random women to escape my life when the one I wanted to touch would never touch me back? The difference is, now I think she'd let me. I won't, though. I won't touch her beautiful body with my tainted hands. Hands that have been bound behind my back and above my head. Hands which have been forced to touch someone I never wanted to. And just like that my mind slips back into a very dark space, which I know I won't be able to escape from for a while. The light is gone from my life now. Only darkness remains.

  Nine

  Eve

  It's been six weeks since I've last seen Cy. I've started working for Brenda and really enjoy it. My days are busy, and so far, my nights have been quiet. Her schedule is hectic, but she hasn't released a new book since I've been working for her. I know once she does, I'll have to work longer hours, but I'm fine with that. It keeps my mind off people I shouldn't be thinking about. Or one person, for that matter.

  Tonight, I have a date. I haven't been on one in such a long time. I'm nervous as hell. With one final glance in the bathroom mirror, I go to the kitchen and drink some water to soothe my nerves. I'm not a drinker, so there's no alcohol in my apartment. A knock at my door lets me know my date is here. I slip on a pair of black sandals and grab my purse.

  Opening the door, I see Finn Bradley. We went to high school together. He was in Cy's little group of assholes, but he always hung to the back. I don't have any memories of him ever laughing at me like the others did. Of course, he could have and I missed it.

  I bumped into him at the grocery store the other night. I stopped on my way home and there he was standing in the bread aisle, trying to pick something. Not being the kind of person to draw attention to myself, I attempted to avoid him, but I didn't succeed. He saw me, and we started talking. He's nice, handsome, and on the quieter side.

  "Eve," he greets and leans in to kiss me on the cheek. "You look very nice." My face warms at his compliment. It's not something I'm used to hearing.

  I decided on a light grey dress that has buttons from the top to bottom where it falls midthigh. A belt brings it in to show off my waist. I've left the top buttons undone and rolled the sleeves up to just below my elbows. It's like one big dress shirt but to be worn as an actual dress.

  I brush my bangs out of my eyes and smile up at him. "You don't look so bad yourself." In fact, he's handsome as hell, from his perfectly combed-back chestnut hair to his shaven, chiseled jaw, down to his blue and white checkered dress shirt, and his khaki pants. He looks like he belongs in a magazine ad.

  He offers me his arm. "Shall we?"

  I smile and loop mine through his, then turn to lock my door. We descend the stairs together and being a perfect gentleman, he opens the door of his sleek, black Mercedes coupe for me.

  We have dinner at a trendy restaurant downtown, and he continues to be courteous and respectful to me the entire time. From my seat I notice the line of people waiting for a table, so I ask how he got reservations. He tells me it's one of the many restaurants his family owns. That explains where he gets his money. He even goes further to tell me this particular place is half his. He wants to buy and run the next one, all on his own.

  After dinner, we stroll down the still bustling sidewalk toward a nightclub. I told him I'm not much of a dancer or drinker, but he explained we'd have VIP treatment and can be tucked away from everyone, if I want. I decide not to ask if this is another place his family owns. His money is of little importance to me. He's charming and seems to care about how I'm feeling.

  His fingers tickle my palm for a moment before he laces his fingers with mine. It's nice holding hands and having contact with someone again. I wonder if he'll want to take the date further once the night is over. It's been many months since I've been in bed with a man. Well, if you don't count the night Cy slept beside me. I shouldn't be thinking of him. Not while on a date with someone else.

  "Here we are," Finn says as we step up to a black awning with no name or anything printed on it. I would have walked past if not for him. It's very unassuming. Well, until you peer around the corner and see the line of women and men waiting to get in. Directly in front of me I only see a bouncer, the rope line, and another bouncer who is off to the side. The man at the door smiles wide when he sees Finn. They clasp hands, and the man opens the door for us.

  We spend the next three hours inside the club. The music isn't as loud from our booth as it is on the floor below us, but the thumping of the bass can easily be felt throughout the entire place. Neither of us drink, only enjoy each other's company and talk. A couple of men stop by the table to talk to Finn before we leave. They each look me over quickly before dismissing me. I don't meet up to the slutty bar they must hold. Each has a scantily clad, big-breasted woman on their arms. I flip my hair over my shoulder and glance away. I have zero interest in them. I'm tired, my head is starting to hurt from the noise, and I want to go home.


  "Sorry, we need to get going," Finn says, cutting one of the men off mid-sentence.

  He stands and holds out his hand for me. I gladly accept it as he helps me from the booth. The men leave once I'm standing beside Finn.

  Placing both of my hands on his arms, I peer up into his eyes. With my heels on I'm closer to his height but not quite level. His hand comes up to cup my cheek a moment before he lowers his lips to mine. We kiss for only a second before he pulls back slightly to rest his forehead on mine.

  "I've wanted to do that all night," he admits.

  I smile and this time initiate the kiss. He gently coaxes my lips apart with his tongue. I welcome him in and kiss him back with as much passion as I can muster inside the crowded club. He presses in closer; the evidence of his arousal pushing against me.

  My mind spins as he continues to kiss me. Do I want to take this further? Is it him I want? He's kind, caring. All my internal boxes for a man have been checked off tonight, so why am I even contemplating not going further? Cy. He's always there in the back of my mind. I need to push him out. There's no space in there for someone who can't do the same for me.

  I break the kiss and with my hand in Finn's, we wind our way through the dark club until we're back out in the warm night air. The city is a little warmer than our small town, but not by much. Fresh air fills my lungs, and I immediately notice my headache beginning to dissipate.

  "Had enough of the loud music?" he asks.

  "Yeah." We walk down the sidewalk toward the valet for the restaurant, which is still open. I imagine when you half-own the place, they will hold your car for as long as they need to. "I'm not much of a club girl," I tell him. "I like being home in comfy clothes, reading or watching television."

  "Ah," he says. "A woman after my own heart."

  "I find that hard to believe. You fit in down here. I'm the one who’s out of place."

  "That's only because you don't know me well yet." Yet. Does this mean he wants to see me again? That he wants to go on another date? I don't ask, afraid I'll sound stupid and desperate. Instead, I keep my lips pressed together all the way to my apartment.