Chapter 46
W hat…
What just happened?
I can’t stop my hands from shaking, the tremors making their way up my arms as I stare down at the bed. The bed Ever and I have been sharing for weeks but will never get to again.
Never?
Never.
That’s what I called her in there. In there… What was that in there? With my ears trained on Arthur’s office, the moment I heard his voice rise, I lost it. I fucking lost it. I knew going in there like that would put my job at risk, I just didn’t care. All I cared about was getting to Ever— protecting Ever.
And now I can’t even do that. I can’t protect Ever from anyone, or anything.
I grind my jaw until I taste dust. I can’t protect Ever.
I hear a knock accompanied with a “Mr. Brantley, would you like some assistance?”
Edwin’s out there, waiting for me to pack my belongings. But all I can do is replay Ever’s words. Her actions. Her animosity toward me. Over and over again.
It was like we were right back at the beginning again. What she said… How she behaved… It couldn’t have been true, could it? Did Ever actually mean any of that shit? Or was she just acting for Arthur’s sake?
That’s the sad part—I can’t even tell. I can’t fucking tell and now…
Now it doesn’t matter. I’m fired. I’m done. I’m leaving. Forever.
Fuck!
I stuff some clothes in my duffle bag.
Why didn’t Ever warn me? She knew. Supposedly.
Did she know?
“I’m not graduating, Crue Brantley. You might as well walk away now.”
She did. She fucking knew. And she didn’t say a word.
“I told you. I’m. Not. Graduating.”
She said some words, but not all of them. Not enough of them. How was I supposed to know what that meant? Ever was dramatic as fuck when I first got here. She said and did anything to try to get rid of me.
I thought that was behind us though. I thought she loved me. I thought…a lot of things. I thought we had time. More than a few weeks.
All she had to do was correct one of the hundreds of times I talked about spending the next three years here. But she didn’t. She stayed silent, letting me believe we had more time together than we did.
Why would she do that? She loves me. She said she loves me.
But…she’s a liar. I’ve known that.
What else has she been keeping from me?
I eye the door between our rooms. I’ve only been in hers twice. Once on my own, which she did not appreciate, then again after I found out about the secret door. She didn’t seem to appreciate that time either, even though we were on much better terms—in love. Allegedly. Always having her in my room was enough, so I didn’t push her on it. I should’ve. Obviously, she’s hiding something in there.
I tell Edwin, “No, I got it,” then I’m opening the door to Ever’s room the next instant, entering the dark space. Under her bed, I find the same sketchbooks as last time, only fuller now. I get hung up flipping through the latest additions. They’re all of me, some of them while I’m asleep. She drew me when I was asleep? I had no idea.
The way she sees me, it’s nothing like how she just spoke to me. Or about me. She called me trash. Told Edwin to throw me away.
Edwin. Shit. I need to hurry.
I search Ever’s closet again. It looks similar to last time…except for the mysterious black lump in the corner. Lifting it up, I examine the material, recognizing it as the dress she wore to dinner that night the Larsons came over. Or it was that dress. Now it’s just a mess of ruined fabric. Ripped all the way up the front, it’d show her pussy if she tried wearing it again.
I frown.
How’d that happen?
I think back to that night. I didn’t see the front of her dress after dinner. It was so dark because of the faulty lights, I barely saw any of the dress.
The lights… The same ones that haven’t given out since. I assumed because Edwin fixed them, but now I’m questioning that, too. I’m questioning everything.
Did Ever turn the lights off so I wouldn’t see? She’s a very talented liar. I’ve believed her for less.
Ever didn’t seem like herself that night. That’s the only thing I know for a fact. But was that because she’d just gotten fucked, willingly? Or because that motherfucker…
I can’t even think it. I can’t even think what Mallory Larson might’ve done to make Ever’s dress look like this. It’s in tatters.
Was it wanted or not?
I squeeze the material, releasing an odor like mildew. Ever does like moss and other nature stuff, but her clothes are always pristine. So why not this dress? What happened to it?
And why is it stuffed in the back of her closet? There’s a dry-cleaning truck here every few days. She could’ve had it cleaned, possibly even repaired by now if she wanted.
I’ll probably never know for sure. How would I? Even if I did get to see Ever again, which to be honest is the biggest stretch of all time after that cold-hearted castoff downstairs, I can’t believe anything she says. I can’t. I thought I could. I tried.
Fuck. I did. I believed her when she said she loved me. And that was after she admitted to keeping her identity from me.
She kept so much from me. So fucking much. Why? Why? What the fuck did she have to gain from constantly hiding shit from me?
Was it all a game? Was I just a goddamn game to her?
That’s how it seems. That’s how it feels, like I got played by a spoiled little rich girl with nothing better to do, no one else to…play with. Damn. I did get played. She’s just like her mom. Emotionally immature. Narcissistic. Dead. To me at least.
I’m fucking done.
“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise,” my mom offers.
Sitting next to her on the couch, my dad bobs his head. “The Munreauxs…have a reputation.”
I fucking snort. I know. I was the one hired to protect it.
“So do I,” I say, making the living room go silent. They know it’s true. They’re the ones who suffered right along with me, getting judgmental stares, callous comments, even death threats. They got so bad following Yasmin’s passing, my parents had to get an alarm installed on the house. They’ve been paying for standing by me ever since.
After several minutes, my mom sighs. “You’ll bounce back, honey. You always do.”
Exactly. I’ve been bouncing from one assignment to another, never stopping to appreciate…anything. Not even my support system.
“Thanks, Mom,” I tell her seriously. “You, too, Dad. I don’t know what I would’ve done without you guys.”
“Probably something rash and irreversible,” my dad says, referencing the darkest time of my life—my senior year. I’d lost everything, or what I felt was everything, and I just wanted it to end. I even told my parents I was considering ending it myself, ending…myself. If it wasn’t for their unconditional love and support, I would’ve.
“Probably,” I confirm quietly, my thoughts, as usual, going back to Ever. She has no support system whatsoever, nothing to keep her from doing anything rash and irreversible. She had me though. I kept her safe.
Now she doesn’t have me and I have no purpose. Again.
“I’m gonna go to bed.”
Zeus’s head lifts to watch me pop up from my spot on the floor.
“Stay here, buddy,” I tell him. I need some alone time. I’m severely deficient in alone time.
“It’s not even seven o’clock yet,” my mom complains.
“I’m exhausted,” I say, surprised to find I actually mean it.
I feel my parents’ stares, as well as our dog’s, all the way down the hall.
As soon as I flop on my bed, my phone chimes, and I have to flip to my back so I can pull it out of my pocket.
Ever’s door.
Damn it. I forgot to turn those off.
My thumb’s hovering over the settings when another notification comes through, this one for her window.
So she went straight through her room to her window and is probably leaving out it right now…
That’s great. Fine. Let her sneak out. Like Arthur said, his daughter is no longer my concern.
I toss my phone to the end of my bed, out of reach.
Unfortunately, the move doesn’t keep my mind from returning to Ever and where she might be going. A party? Now that I’m not there to keep her company, to entertain her, she’s forced to seek amusement elsewhere.
Probably. That’s probably where she’s going. That’s where she went before I moved in.
Parting my knees, I stare at the device down by my feet.
As long as she’s still wearing that purple bracelet, I could find out exactly where she’s going.
I slam my knees shut, cutting off my view.
That’s the luxury of being unemployed. I don’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore. I’m not being paid to care about Ever Munreaux’s whereabouts, so I don’t. I do not fucking care. She can go out right this minute and get fucked seven different ways, all of them new and different and new and—
Fuck!
I catapult my top half off the mattress, my elbows on my knees, my hands in fists on top of my ankles as I try to keep myself from grabbing my phone and checking her location. It’s better not to know. It’s better not to care. Which I don’t. I don’t fucking care about her.
Except…
What if that’s not where she’s going? What if she’s coming…here? For me. She knows where I live. She could show up at my front door and apologize, tell me she didn’t mean anything she said. And I’d…
What? Accept that?
No. She doesn’t deserve my forgiveness that easily.
But if she did show up, I’d be willing to at least hear her out.
Is she willing to come clean?
I guess I’ll have to see when she gets here. If she gets here.
I press my palms into my hairline hoping it’ll push Ever Munreaux from my head.
She’s not coming. She’s the one that doesn’t care. If she did, she would’ve said something , given me some kind of heads-up, anything . She didn’t. She wouldn’t even look at me.
We were fine until we pulled up—
When we pulled up…
When we pulled up, Ever stopped meeting my eyes the moment Edwin intercepted her. And she didn’t seem like she even wanted to go with the valet. It’s not surprising considering who he was taking her to—her abuser.
I snatch my phone up. I shouldn’t have left her there.
Immediately opening the tracker app, I go right for Ever’s location. She’s still on the property. I’m worrying for nothing. She’s probably just out for a run, burning off some of the frustration that comes with dealing with Arthur Munreaux.
Except her dot isn’t moving. It’s stationary as all fuck, even after I refresh the app several times. It looks like she’s at the cliff, just sitting there, contemplating, possibly doing something…rash and irreversible.
Shit!
I scramble off my bed and burst out into the hall while trying to get one shoe on at a time, bouncing off the walls like a goddamn ping-pong ball.
“Where are you going?” my mom calls after me, but I’m already out the front door and remote-starting my Bronco.
The dot looks like it’s at the edge of the cliff but what if Ever’s not? What if she’s already at the bottom?