Chapter Thirteen Evie #2
It’s like she can read my mind because she yells, “Chase. I swear to god . . . Men used to go to war. Pull it together.”
I huff an empty laugh. “Joke’s on you, buddy. Back in the Game of Thrones days, I would’ve been that sickly kid everyone was hoping would live just long enough to be king.”
She jiggles the bag viciously, the loud whipping of plastic filling the room. I jerk my whole body in protest.
“Lock in, dammit,” she barks.
I draw out a breath. “Fine. I’m fucking locked. Fuck.”
We both let out a few harsh breaths before our eyes meet, and we inhale, then exhale together, our gaze never breaking.
“Okay,” I whisper, and she nods. I finally look down at the carnage again.
It’s time.
I extend the tongs on a shaky breath to pick up victim number one, swallowing, and try not to close my eyes.
“Get the bag ready,” I say quietly, immediately wondering why I’m whispering.
Who’s hearing me? Not the rats.
“It’s open. I’m here,” she counters. “Just do it already.”
“Stop rushing me,” I grind out.
Dammit. I’m a chef. I can do this. This is just like picking the lobsters or making frog legs. I even had to kill a live chicken once when visiting France. I can do this.
I slowly slip my extraction tool around the furry body, but as soon as I depress the tongs, I can feel the squishiness.
“Oh god,” I grit between my teeth, my whole body shivering as I breathe through inflated cheeks, because getting the heebie-jeebies is an understatement.
I glance up, and Evie’s looking away with the bag extended in front of her. But she’s two feet too far to the left.
“Evie, I’m gonna drop dead rat on you if you keep looking away. Hold the bag in place.”
She squeals, looking back at me, and that’s when everything falls apart.
And I mean the damn rat.
The moment I pick it up, its body falls apart.
Evie screams. I yell, “Fuck this.” And the tongs land directly on top of the murder scene.
She hops away, chanting Oh my god, oh my god over and over, abandoning the damn bag, her hands in fists up by her shoulders.
I take a bunch of steps backward, trying to keep my lunch down as I groan.
“Evie,” I level, forcing her eyes on mine. “We’re tossing it all. If you want to say a few words, this is the time.”
She nods, finally on board, before she clasps her yellow-gloved hands together like she’s praying. So I do the same.
“Okay,” she says on an exhale. “Dear whatever or whoever is up there. Although definitely dear ma’am . . . please let these rats live their spirits out in a palace of cheese. And if they’re set for reincarnation, let them come back as women in Stem who cure disease.”
I open one eye, peeking at her, only to see her looking back at me.
“It seems full circle from the plague. Anyway . . . please let them be badass, and make sure Princess—” We both look at the killer cat. “Make sure she comes back as a rat.”
“Amen,” I say resolutely, hearing Evie say, “Awomen.”
I chuckle before we both start pulling the sheets out from where they’re tucked, tossing the ends toward the middle and folding the blanket over itself until it becomes a big pile.
I motion to her with my hand. “Gimme the bag.”
She does, so I open it as wide as it goes before slipping it around the blanket until it’s all inserted inside.
As I pull it away, Evie gasps, “Oh no. That’s so gross.”
My face snaps to the mattress. The blood from the rats not only went through the blanket and the sheets, but it seeped all the way into the mattress.
“That’s not coming out with a Bissel,” I offer to her scowling face.
“I am so not sleeping on that,” she says, shaking her head. “There’s no way, even if it did come out. This room is only eligible for participation in a fire, not my sleep.”
I can’t even concentrate on what she’s saying because I’m too busy pulling the drawstring closed. Am I sweating? Probably. Goddammit, I hate this.
Something between a grumble and a whine tickles my chest as I pray that I don’t feel anything when I have to pick this damn thing up off the bed.
“Door,” I say, and she rushes there to hold it open.
This is why being a dude is the fucking worst. You always have to do shit like this—clean up the nastiest parts of life, all while being the guy who isn’t scared of anything. It’s BS. What was I supposed to do if these things were alive?
Get bit so she could run away, that’s what.
I wrap my arms around the bag, picking it up because if I use the handle, it’ll break. And I’m not capable of coming back from that. We’d just have to sell Noah and Goldie’s house and get them a new one.
I’d have to be like, Sorry, guys, I needed to make an executive decision on short notice. Hope it works out.
I’m holding my breath as I make my way past the perp, still licking her paws like a fucking serial killer.
“Your Honor, she’s guilty as charged,” I breathe out before holding my breath again.
Evie follows me out of the room, glancing down at Princess too. “Yeah. It’s the electric chair for you. No final meal.”
She runs past me to the back door off the side of the kitchen, opening that one, too, as I walk as fast as humanly possible, seeing as I’m going to need to take a breath soon. But my feet don’t fail me as I hustle through it and directly to the outside garbage cans.
The sunlight almost blinds me since the house is so buttoned up, making me squeeze my eyes closed for a second.
Evie must think I’m waiting on her because she breathes out Oh shit, sorry before running toward me and lifting the lid to the garbage can so I can toss the bag inside.
I’m still blinking when I toss it in and shiver. Fucking gross.
The moment she drops the lid, I suck in air, finally breathing again, and she smiles.
“We have got to stop trauma bonding,” she teases, nudging me, but I give her a deadpan look before I laugh and take my gloves off, tossing them in the trash.
There’s no reason for me to glance around, but I do.
She doesn’t seem to notice, following suit and removing her gloves too. I run my hands through my hair and push my goggles to the top of my head.
“I’ll make you a deal. Feel free to never call me for anything ever again. I’m done. You’re too high maintenance. I gotta tap out now. I don’t care how beautiful you are. I won’t be bought by your impeccable face card.”
She giggles, and I smirk, loving how she’s letting me flirt with her, even though we’re back to being just friends . . . I remember the rules. I don’t like them, though.
“I really owe you one, though.”
It’s stupid, but I don’t like being out here, exposed, for some reason. I think I’m just weirded out by the rat. But still, without asking permission, my now bare hands fall to her waist before I turn her around.
Again, she doesn’t seem to notice my inner thoughts or my hands on her. And it’s the my-hands-on-her part that’s taking up space in my brain.
Maybe she’s oblivious because she’s too busy taking off her goggles. Or maybe it’s because my touch is natural . . .
I’m staring at the back of her head and she’s talking. But all I want to say is Why are you fighting this so much?
This thing that’s always been between us, and not just because of last night, because that wasn’t our first rodeo. It’s the kind of pull people can’t create.
“I cannot believe we have to sleep with a killer tonight,” she mutters as I guide her back toward the door. “Who knows what could happen to us. You know, I read about a woman whose face was actually eaten by her cats.”
I frown, closing the door behind us. “It’s a good thing there’s only one Peach in this house.”
I don’t say Princess because there’s two of those.
Evie walks out of my hands toward the kitchen, glancing back over her shoulder at me.
And that’s the moment it happens. I’m done. I’m not pretending anymore.
“Heads up,” she levels. “I’m never going back in that room again. And I’m not sleeping in Goldie’s bed, either, because I’m just as disgusted over what’s probably happened on that mattress too. So, it’s couch city for you.”
“No.”
She scowls, crossing her arms. “What do you mean no?”
I shake my head, walking toward her. Fuck it, I’m going to say the ugly truth whether she likes it or not.
“I mean absolutely fucking not.”
She’s backing up as I walk forward until her ass hits the barstool, so I grab her waist, sitting her on it before I cage her in. Both my palms smacking down on the island on either side of her.
“I mean that I’m going to sleep with my fucking girlfriend.”
She draws her head back like she’s wondering what the hell I’m talking about, so I clarify.
“We’re not doing this anymore, Evil.”
“Not doing what?” she says on barely a whisper.
I ignore her, dominating the conversation. “I like you, Evie Monroe. That’s never been a secret.”
Her lips part, then close. Yep. Stay quiet. It’s my turn.
“And you like me too. Even though you like to try and pretend you don’t.”
She swallows hard.
“Fuck. I’m tired of trying to win you over, conning you into coming with me to the farmers’ market or to my restaurant just to prove I’m not who you think I am. Because what I’ve known since the first time we met is that I’m for you.”
Suddenly, she finds her voice again. “You lied? Oh my god . . . of course you did, because you’re a guy with a group chat full of hookers. I told you last night—”
I cut her off.
“Fuck what you said. And don’t talk about my girlie pops like that. That group chat is four women in their mid-seventies who ride or die for me. So stop avoiding what I’m saying. You’re not hearing me,” I level, dead-ass serious as I repeat myself. “I said—I’m for you.”
Silence stretches out between us before she takes a shaky breath, licking her bottom lip to a shine as I look deeply into her eyes.
“Do you want proof?” My fingers only have to shift an inch in the direction of the phone before she shakes her head.
“No, it’s too ridiculous to make up.”
“Good. Then stop fighting this with all your bullshit reasons for me not being the one and just give me a goddamn chance already. I’m gonna surprise you.”
She’s barely blinking, but the look on her face was the same as the one when I pulled her flush to me in the tub.
“Because what did I just say?” I add, before she repeats it without hesitation.
“I’m for you . . .”
I grin. “Yeah, you are.” I clock the goose bumps on her arm and the way she shivers before I add, “So be in my fucking orbit. And let me in yours.”
“I think I’m going to pass out,” she whispers, but I keep going.
“I’m a fucking catch, baby, and I’ve spent a year and a half begging you to snatch me up.
So I’m done with the bullshit. I’m gonna fucking kiss you, and you’re gonna let me.
Not with the intention to fuck, but to just kiss you because I like you and you like me.
And when I’m done, if you can remember how to tell me to fuck off, feel free. ”
Not a breath is taken before I seal my lips over hers, slipping my tongue inside without permission. I’m going to devour her fucking mouth. Her head tilts, welcoming me, and I can’t help myself. I grab her jaw, making it deeper.
She lets out a sigh that almost sounds like relief, and it makes me hum a laugh. It vibrates my lips before she weaves her fingers through my hair.
There’s my girl.
My. Girl.
Mine.
The world around us stops existing. All there is, is her mouth on mine and mine on hers. I don’t even care if I can’t breathe. I’d rather die connected to her than any other way.
She’s had me hooked from the beginning, and I swear to god I’m never giving her a reason not to fall madly in fucking love with me.
The moment I pull away, the wetness left on my lips immediately feels cold. But the beautiful thing is, she whimpers.
Her eyes spring open as she stares back at me, breathless and also a bit dazed.
I know what I did, and so does she.
“Was there something you wanted to say to me?” I level.
But she nods, then shakes her head, then blinks a few times before she says, “What in the Darcy just happened?”
I grin. “Want me to do it again but come from over a hill?”
The laugh that comes out of her bubbles slowly before it picks up. She covers my mouth so I can’t see her as she takes a deep breath and says, “Holy shit. Chase Beckett . . .”
There’s a chuckle shared between us before she whispers, “I can’t believe I’m dating Shrek.”
I bite her hand, making her squeal, before I grab her legs and wrap them around my waist.
“Right now, baby, you’re gonna fuck him too.”
She laughs as I pick her up and walk her back to our bedroom to really seal the deal. Because hot damn, I just made Evie Monroe my girlfriend.