Chapter 27 Evie
Evie
Goals took my focus. I went to work, had sessions with Dr. Cainfield, then went straight home and dived into the preliminary outline for what I hoped to create for Vaughn’s survivors. It was only a plan, a prospectus. I would be funding it, with William’s money.
Which was the best fuck you I could imagine.
I didn’t tell Evy about it yet, but I would as soon as I got Vaughn’s approval. That felt important. Necessary. He and I had a connection that had nothing to do with our hearts. Saving someone’s life linked them, and now he was stuck with me. No take-backs.
Avoiding people wasn’t my intention, but it wasn’t not either.
I remembered Chance holding me during my meltdown.
How he’d rocked me against his body. I’d never imagined a man like Chance Reid was capable of crying, but he’d cried that night.
For me—with me. I remembered waking up in bed with him holding me like I was the most precious thing in the world.
That was when I let myself admit that I was in love with him.
And it was why I wanted to be more mentally stable before we talked again. The person I’d turned into when I was angry with him was not someone I liked. He cared about me, and I refused to be someone who manipulated or gaslit him. Chance deserved someone better than that.
Dr. Cainfield was helping me recognize and work on that part of myself. William had programmed me, something I didn’t realize until I met Chance.
By the following Wednesday, I was feeling good about the plan.
Hitting send on the email to Vaughn with all the information, I left Sanctuary earlier than usual.
Evy was going on her first official date with Reid now that she’d completely recovered from her allergic reaction.
She was excited about her first date ever, and I’d promised to help her get ready.
Parking my Jeep, I climbed out and was walking toward my apartment when number three’s door opened. Chance stepped out, and I stopped dead in my tracks. He should have been at work, but there he was, dressed in a pair of sleep pants and a faded T-shirt, his hair mussed up.
“Thanks for everything, babe,” my neighbor cooed. To a grown-ass man. Was that supposed to be sexy?
“Call if you need anything else.” His voice was tired. I almost called out to him, wanting to check that he was okay.
“That was perfect. Exactly what I needed.”
What the hell had she needed?
Pulling my keys out of my purse with a little more force than it required, I stomped toward my apartment. Chance jerked his head in my direction, his bloodshot eyes narrowing on me before turning back to number three. “I’ll check on you after I get some sleep.”
“Sorry I kept you up all night, baby. But it was so worth it.”
I almost puked in my mouth. Opening the door, I slammed it behind me. But then my heart started racing at it being closed, and I cracked it. Jealousy tasted like ash on my tongue as I stormed into the bedroom for a change of clothes and then went to take a shower.
Where I cried for ten minutes.
It wasn’t what it looked like, I tried to reassure myself.
Chance had not skipped work to hook up with my next-door neighbor.
He was in love with me. I’d heard him say it the night of my panic attack, and I believed him.
If he could be patient a little longer, let me get a bit more mentally healthy, we could be together.
He wouldn’t fuck someone else during that time.
I kept telling myself that, but I wasn’t sure I actually believed it.
–
When Reid picked Evy up for their date, I noticed a shadow by the front door, but I didn’t question it.
My future brother-in-law was overprotective and probably had one of his MC buddies watching out for me until my friends arrived.
Abi and Sammy were coming over to watch movies all night so Reid wouldn’t worry about me.
He still felt bad about setting off my panic attack the week before.
I wasn’t sure he’d ever really recover from that night.
I started making popcorn, setting out other snacks for our movie marathon.
Sammy showed up with Daisy in tow. All the noise in my head melted away at the sight of the kitten.
Closing the door was easier to face when Daisy was cuddled on my lap.
It was also a necessity because Daisy got adventurous if the door was open for too long.
Curling up on the couch, we were already cueing up the first movie when Abi walked in with a gym bag slung over her shoulder. “Are we ignoring the fact that Chance is drunk outside your door?”
“He is?” I squeaked, jumping up to look out the window.
“I saw him out there when I came in,” Sammy said nonchalantly. “I just thought Evie was pretending he didn’t exist.”
I wanted to argue, but she wasn’t wrong. But I would have done something if I’d known it was him out there. Chance was sitting on the ground, empty beer bottles beside him, another in his hand. What the heck? Opening the door, I crouched down before he could even lift his head. “Chance?”
His eyes focused and unfocused on me before blinking a few times. “Peaches?”
“Hi.” I took the beer from him, earning me a scowl that would have been scary if I didn’t already know that this man would never use physical violence with me.
“That’s mine.”
“What number is this?” I asked, looking at the collection of empties beside him.
“Eight…. No, nine.” He kept blinking, slow and lazy like he couldn’t keep his eyes open for long. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in a week. Heart squeezing, I wondered if that was my fault. “Peaches?”
“He doesn’t get drunk on just beer,” Sammy commented, appearing beside me. “Chance could drink a distillery dry and still be steady. Hey, buddy. Whatcha been doing today?”
He didn’t answer, his head dropping back, mouth falling open a little. She snapped her fingers in his face, causing him to blink at her slowly and swat at her hand. “Leave me ’lone, Sammy. Head hurts.”
“No doubt,” she said sympathetically. Grabbing his chin, she made him hold his head still, eyes narrowed on his face. “What else did you drink, Chance?”
“Nothin’,” he slurred.
“Mm-kay,” Sammy said skeptically then glanced at me. “He’s not drunk. Are we bringing him in or leaving him to rot?”
“I’m not leaving him here.” His arm was heavy when I lifted it to wrap over my shoulder. “Help me get him inside.”
It took a lot of work to get him into the apartment.
He wasn’t a small man, and he weighed a freaking ton.
He was completely out of it, not making any sense when he mumbled.
We got as far as the couch, and then he flopped down.
Out of breath, I stood over him, wiping sweat out of my eyes.
“If he’s not drunk, then what’s wrong with him? Even I know that’s not normal.”
“There’s no way he’s sober. That was a lot of beer,” Abi reasoned.
“Yeah, but Chance has a high tolerance.” Sammy was on her phone, texting someone. “Elias said that Chance didn’t work today. There was an issue in one of the apartments, and he was the one on call last night. The tenant let them know around one this morning, and it took all day to fix.”
“He was coming out of number three’s apartment when I got back,” I confirmed, remembering the conversation I’d overheard. “He told her he would check on her again after he got some sleep. I thought…”
My friends made a noise, telling me they knew and understood exactly what I’d thought. Sammy tapped Chance on the cheek. “Did you eat anything today?”
“You’re not peaches,” he grumbled, pushing her away. “No touching.”
“Don’t worry, big guy. I don’t want to be touching you any more than you want me to.
I’m trying to help you. We’re worried. Have you been sick?
Did you take any cold meds?” She was persistent, tapping him on the cheek repeatedly when he didn’t answer her.
“Chance. Chance Reid! I need you to answer me, buddy.”
Worry tossed in my stomach. His skin was gray, sweat dotting his brow and beneath his scruff. “Should we call for help?”
“The neighbor is a nurse, right?” Abi was just as anxious as me. “Maybe we should—”
“I don’t trust that bitch,” Sammy cut her off. “I’ve known this guy my whole life, and I have never seen him like this. His pupils are pinpoints, and he’s got cotton mouth. I bet that’s why he was drinking so much beer. He’s not drunk—he’s been drugged.”
“What?” I cried, dropping to my knees beside him. “Chance, open your eyes. Hey, look at me. Please look at me.”
Groaning, he lifted his lashes with effort. “Baby?”
I stroked my fingertips over his stubbled jaw. “Did you take any cold medicine?”
“No, ’course not.” He closed his eyes, another groan rumbling from him. “Head’s killin’ me.”
“Ask him if he ate anything,” Sammy instructed.
“Chance, did you eat today?” I traced my thumb over his cheek.
“No time,” he mumbled.
“Did he drink anything other than beer?”
This was crazy. Why wouldn’t he answer her? He didn’t seem to hear her at all, though. I kissed his cheek, fighting tears. “Chance, did you drink anything other than beer?”
His brows scrunched together, but he didn’t open his eyes. “Somethin’ sour.”
“When? Where?”
“Casey’s,” he slurred with a huff. “Had ta fix it.”
“When?” Sammy shouted.
He jerked, his eyelids barely lifting. “Don’t ’member. Before peaches.”
“Before she got home? Evie, when did you get home?”
“It was less than an hour ago.” I was shaking, holding on to Chance’s hand so tightly my own fingers hurt. “Maybe. I don’t know for sure.”
With a snarl, she turned and ran out of the apartment. Moments later, I heard a piercing scream, and then Sammy was dragging my neighbor into the living room. Startled, I didn’t know what to do. I wasn’t even sure I cared. All that mattered was Chance. “What did you give him?”
“You’re insane, bitch. What the hell? I don’t care who you’re married to. You can’t treat people like this. You’re not above the law.”
Sammy laughed, a chilling, maniacal sound that caused goose bumps to pop up on my arms. She scared me sometimes. “You have five seconds to tell me what you drugged him with.”
“I’m not scared of you,” the blonde sneered. “You might have everyone else around here fooled, but you’re nothing special. Go ahead, pull my hair. You’re not going to do shit.”
“Ah, hell,” Abi muttered, squeezing the bridge of her nose. “This isn’t going to end well.”
The words had barely left her lips before my neighbor—Casey—was screaming. It wasn’t like my scream during my panic attack. It wasn’t fear or anxiety she felt. It was pain, pure and simple.
Because Sammy broke her wrist.
Bile lifted into the back of my throat seeing the unnatural angle Casey’s arm was now at.
How did she even do that? I saw her do it, but I had questions, none of them appropriate to the situation.
Given that her brother was freaking Ghost, I wasn’t all that surprised about her particular skill sets.
“What did you give him?” she repeated calmly. Not breathing hard. Eyes unblinking. Unfazed by the violence she’d just inflicted. I looked away from Casey, focusing only on Chance and how sleepy he was. His breathing wasn’t labored. Was that a good sign?
“Just a little opioid!” she screamed drawing my gaze back to her as she cried so hard that snot and spittle flew everywhere. In that moment, I kind of wanted Sammy to break her other arm.
“How much?” Abi asked, her eyes almost as wild as Sammy’s were calm.
“Barely any at all.” Sammy twisted the broken wrist, earning another scream that might always haunt me. “Owwwwww! OxyContin. I crushed a few of them and put them in his lemonade earlier.”
“Why would you do that?” OMG. This woman was deranged. Why were people so evil?
“I was going to…” She trailed off, and Sammy twisted her arm again. “I just wanted him to think it had happened. Then maybe he would give us a chance.”
“You’re friends with his mom!” I shouted, anger boiling inside me. Shouldn’t that have earned some kind of loyalty? Being someone’s friend automatically should have been an unwritten contract that meant not drugging that person’s child.
“She wants us to be together!” she yelled back.
“Rory Reid would kill you before she’d let you drug her son.” Sammy’s voice was eerily calm. It was terrifying, yet oddly comforting. “I’ll let her do just that. But first, we need to get Chance to a hospital. All that beer mixed with Oxy is a bad recipe.”