24. Chapter 24
Evan
Cecil: What do ya mean you’re not doing it? Quit fucking with me and get the job done.
The voice of Evan’s stepfather boomed into their earphones as they departed the transit bus in Richmond.
Listening to the message a third time did nothing to dampen Evan’s terror or the unmistakable threat in Cecil’s tone.
Kill Frankie or suffer the consequences.
While Evan wasn’t positive about what those would entail, they knew there was no real love lost between them.
Getting rid of Evan for good wouldn’t keep Cecil up at night. Not like Caleb’s death had.
Evan pressed the voice-to-text button, lips parting to reply, but no words came.
How could they explain the nuances in Frankie’s character that would make Cecil just a little empathetic?
Yes, she had done it, she’d killed Caleb, but she wasn’t evil.
You don’t, you lie, Evan realized. Cecil would never accept the truth.
Evan: She didn’t do it. You got the wrong person.
“What a shit-show,” they said, flicking over to the map app with directions to Sloane’s apartment.
As Evan neared the end of the block, they squinted at the street sign and glanced at the map once more.
They took a left just as their phone buzzed twice.
When they paused to look at it, someone slammed into them from behind, and the phone flew out of Evan’s hands.
They swiveled around to glare up at the clumsy fool, who happened to have his own phone in his hands. “Watch it!”
The teenager rolled his eyes before side-stepping Evan and continuing down the street. “Whatever.”
“Ass,” Evan grumbled, scanning the ground and dodging two other people until they spotted the discarded cell in a pile of snowy slush a few feet away.
Snatching it up, they continued to grumble under their breath, using the tail end of their hoodie to wipe off the phone.
Just fucking great . Evan grimaced at the water inside the charging port.
They shook the device, watching as a dribble of liquid escaped.
Evan’s throat burned as anger flared hot inside them.
They scrambled to unlock their phone, getting as far as their SMS inbox where a new message from Frankie waited, but when Evan clicked on the thread, the phone wigged out.
“Fucking asshole,” Evan spat, referring to the idiot who walked into them.
They jabbed the cell into their bag before taking off again.
It was a guessing game to Sloane’s apartment now.
All Evan remembered from her description was that she lived a few blocks away from the Miller Mechanic and Restoration shop, and the civic address.
No problem, they had time. It wasn’t as if Evan was actively avoiding going home to Frankie’s apartment. They definitely were not doing that.
They’d slipped out the moment Frankie had gone for a shower early that morning, too much of a coward to face off with her again.
The memory of falling asleep curled into Frankie on her sectional still made Evan’s cheeks warm and their gut tighten.
They’d woken filled with shame and desire for Frankie, utterly confused at how the two emotions could go hand in hand.
They needed Frankie like they needed air, and yet, they hated her, too.
They needed to hate her, even if they couldn’t kill her for what she’d done.
The problem was that it had felt wondrous in Frankie’s embrace.
Equal amounts strong and feminine, she’d held Evan against her body as if they were something precious, something she feared would crumble or disappear.
Her affection scared the shit out of Evan.
It was so wrong on so many levels, yet Evan couldn’t shake the warmth blossoming in their chest hours later.
The heart was full of nonsense emotions and contradictions.
Falling for Frankie would bring nothing but agony to them both. And that’s why Evan left that morning. To rebuild their collapsed boundaries. To make a stand, one Frankie understood and respected.
Once Evan caved and asked for directions, it took no time at all to locate Sloane’s apartment in a clean, middle-class neighborhood.
Evan approached the building’s entrance, debating their plan now.
It was barely eight in the morning. They knew Sloane worked the evening shift, and although she’d left Evan an open invitation to visit, she wasn’t expecting them now .
They stood just inside the main door, eyeing Sloane’s apartment number on the intercom, indecision warring when an older gentleman pushed open the security door and left the building without a glance at Evan.
Evan moved quickly, shoving their foot between the door and the threshold before it could click shut again.
Surely a gentle knock to Sloane’s door would be less abrasive than using the buzzer.
Evan knew they’d prefer to be woken up by someone’s gentle knock than the alternative.
It took a few minutes, but eventually they heard movement within Sloane’s apartment.
Then deadbolts were unlocked, and before Evan was ready, Sloane swung the door inward.
Surprise, followed by a flicker of concern, crossed her face.
She reached for Evan’s arm, dragging them inside with her.
“Fuckin’ hell, what happened to you?”
Evan froze, letting Sloane’s words sink in. They swore under their breath. How could they have forgotten the attack on Frankie the night before? She wasn’t the only one sporting nicks and bruises that morning. An uneasy laugh left Evan, and they busied themself with taking off their boots.
“You should see the other guy.”
“You were jumped? By who? What’d he look like?
” An edge of fear coated Sloane’s usually smooth voice, and something about it made Evan look up.
She was gripping the handle on the door she’d just shut and relocked, her lips slashed in a tight line.
Sleep clung to her features from being jostled awake but Evan realized the big bags under her eyes shed light on a different story. Something was going on with Sloane.
“It was a joke. Me and Frankie, we …” Evan removed their last boot, trailing off. There was no way they could tell Sloane what really happened. Besides the fact that it sounded crazy, Evan was certain Frankie had kept that part of her life hidden. “She’s been teaching me some self-defense moves.”
“Oh. Okay, wow.” Sloane scrubbed a hand over her face. Evan followed her into the kitchen, watching as she finger-combed her long hair and got stuck at the pink tips. She yanked them free, muttering about needing a trim. “Bit early for an impromptu visit, Ev.”
“I know, sorry.”
“You’re lucky I was up for a pee, or I wouldn’t have heard you.
You could have sent a text,” Sloane said, setting about making coffee.
She wore a black tank top and navy-blue space pajama pants, looking a helluva lot less edgy than Evan would have guessed.
When she bent to retrieve milk from inside the fridge, Evan spotted the butterfly tattoo on her lower back.
It was one they had seen before at the pub, as Sloane often wore tops that rode up.
“I know, I just … I needed to get away for a bit.”
“From Frankie, huh? Sounds about right. She is allll-consuming.” Sloane met Evan’s gaze with a snicker, gesturing to her empty coffee mug waiting by the percolator. “You want one?”
Evan shook their head. “Nah, but I’ll take a hot cocoa if you’ve got any of that.”
“Sure.”
Once they were sitting on Sloane’s sofa with drinks, Evan relaxed, taking in the living room. It looked very much lived in, but tidy, with a flat-screen TV and two bikes secured to the wall. Evan turned to see Sloane watching them. “Does your sister still live here?”
Rolling her eyes, Sloane lifted a mug of coffee to her lips. She took a sip before saying, “Not really. She spends most nights at Sawyer’s. Why? You need a new roommate?”
“Yes” was on the tip of Evan’s tongue, but nothing came out when they opened their mouth.
It made sense to move out of Frankie’s place.
Now that the ruse was up, nothing was stopping them.
Nothing but the paradox of emotions Evan experienced whenever Frankie walked into the apartment at the end of the night.
It had become a home for Evan these last couple of months. Frankie had become a home.
“What’s going on with you?” Evan said instead, scanning Sloane’s face for answers. “You looked like you’d piss yourself when you saw me.”
Sloane shook her head, but her free hand trembled slightly as it pushed hair away from her eyes. “Just haven’t been sleeping well lately. It’s weird living here by myself, you understand. It’s been Coy and me for years.”
“Yeah, that must suck.” Evan wasn’t sure that was the whole truth, but they chose to let it drop. Sloane looked the type to clam up if she felt pressured at all, and besides, whatever was going on wasn’t Evan’s business.
They made small talk until their drinks were finished.
Sloane announced it was time to shower, so Evan occupied themself while she was in the bathroom.
They tried their phone again, and when it still flickered to the home screen each time, Evan went on a hunt for rice.
When it was safely in a bag and covered, Evan browsed the apartment.
They headed toward where Sloane had disappeared, stopping to take in the row of pictures in the hallway on both walls.
Friends and family of the twins, Evan’s eyes widened as they came across one with them in it.
It was a group shot taken during the staff party, just two weeks before, and Sloane’s arm was draped across Evan’s shoulders.
The memory of Sloane’s drunken, winking come-ons made them smile.