35. Chapter 35
Evan
“This is lit, right? Great gig and we get away from O’Rourke’s for a change.”
“Def, my dude.”
Sloane clinked her drink against Andy’s, and Evan nodded, adding, “Scoring a night off together never happens, so the gig came at a good time.”
They were across town at a different pub, sharing nachos and sipping a draft ale from the pitcher Andy bought for the table.
Claire and her band were the entertainment there tonight, so Andy had thrown them the idea of coming to support her.
It wasn’t the first time Evan had heard the band, as they sometimes played at O’Rourke’s, but their friend was right.
No matter how much Evan wished they could attach themself to Frankie at times, tonight’s change of scenery was nice.
Scooping up more nachos, they studied the chip, cheese, and salsa ratio before popping it in their mouth.
Really, there was just one complaint about the evening.
“O’Rourke’s serves mozza sticks.” Seriously, what kitchen didn’t serve mozza sticks? Should be a crime.
Andy and Sloane pulled their gaze from the band at the same time to look at Evan. Andy seemed humored, but Sloane rolled her eyes. In Evan’s opinion, everything anyone did lately agitated Sloane to some degree. “I’d say it serves Frankie, too, but we all know who serves whom in your relationship.”
“That’s subjective, though, right?” Andy piped up with a grin. “I mean, Frankie’s a pleasure Domme, so in a way she’s serving you.”
Evan chewed the inside of their mouth as they fought back a grin of their own. It sure as hell felt like their Daddy was serving them the other night.
“Ugh, forget I said anything,” Sloane said, and with the noise in the pub, Evan had to strain to hear her. Their attention returned to the band just in time to see Claire belt out a solo on the bass guitar.
“She’s good.” Surprisingly so , Evan thought. “What’s she do again?”
“I know, b’y. I keep telling her that.” Andy laughed and reached for his beer mug once more. “She works as a medical transcriber.”
“Seriously?” Sloane laughed too. “Well, she found a great way to unwind.”
When the band took a break an hour later, Andy disappeared to see Claire, which then left Sloane to keep Evan company.
Things had been awkward between them since the assault in the pub washroom.
Sloane had her guard up more times than not around Evan now, as if she was worried Evan was going to offer some much-needed advice or drill her with more questions.
She was feeling insecure, having a weak moment.
Evan understood that better than most. They’d hit rock bottom before prison helped straighten them out.
Maybe it was time Sloane knew that about them.
“I did five years in prison for breaking into a pharmacy.”
Sloane stilled, her mug of lager halfway to her lips. One eyebrow shot up. “Fucking random, but okay. Run out of toilet paper, did you?”
“No. I was there for prescription meds.” Evan heaved a sigh, wishing they had told Frankie this first. She’d never asked, and when their stint in prison had come up, she had seemed satisfied not to have the details.
Tonight. I’ll tell her tonight. “After my brother died, I just wanted to not feel the pain anymore, you know? So I had a friend hook me up with Oxy he stole off his dad.”
“Well, shit. That’s a lot to unpack.”
“Yep. Things went downhill from there.”
Sloane whistled, her eyes still wide. She waved her hand around them. “Not that I don’t appreciate the heart-to-heart, but why tonight?”
Evan frowned. “Because you’re acting weird with me now. I don’t love it, not gonna lie. And now you know something about me. Something I’m not proud of. I had an addiction, and as much as I hate to admit it, prison helped me get clean.”
“But you were charged for theft, not drug possession.”
“Yeah, that’s right. I used to steal a lot back then. Besides, I never had any pills on me when I was arrested.”
“I see.”
“Anyway, you might not think the gambling is a problem. I didn’t think I had one either ‘til I was running down a back alley with cops after me.”
Sloane’s mug of lager hit the table with a thud Evan heard even over the surrounding noise.
Sliding out of the booth, she snatched her purse from the vacant seat and shot Evan a look filled with unrestrained fury.
“I should’ve known you were on about this again.
Just fuck off about it, okay? You don’t know what you’re talking about, Evan. I can take care of myself.”
Since running O’Rourke’s took up most of Frankie’s nights, Evan had grown accustomed to their couple activities happening during mornings she didn’t go in early.
The day before, she’d taken Evan to buy more clothes, including a new binder, which was a pleasant surprise.
The one they usually wore was an older style and wasn’t as secure as it once had been.
In spite of the “dangerous lone wolf” reputation Frankie had somehow built for herself over the years, she was always so thoughtful and attentive toward Evan.
Frankie was made to be in a relationship.
To serve and be served, never mind the assumptions Sloane and Andy had spoken of Friday night.
Yes, Evan was positive it made Frankie feel good to do things for them, in and out of the bedroom. But it was the same for Evan.
They adored being able to get Frankie comfortable after a long day on her feet.
Whether that was to take off her footwear, make tea, or something more subtle, like direct a fan onto Frankie whenever she broke out in a full-body sweat in the middle of the night.
Her night terrors weren’t something they ever spoke of, but Evan was often a silent witness regardless.
It wasn’t a bunch of screaming and crying in her sleep either, like what some of Evan’s cellmates would do.
Frankie’s night terrors were quiet, composed, and if it weren’t for the body sweats or the occasional tear tracks down her cheek, Evan would be none the wiser.
Hell, they’d lived under the same roof as Frankie since December and hadn’t realized.
“Daydreaming while we’re on a movie date. Tsk tsk.”
Evan blinked, Frankie’s teasing smile coming into focus. They glanced past her to the TV still playing the latest drama Frankie had picked out. She was convinced that if Evan watched enough Julia Roberts movies, they’d love her acting as much as she did.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. What’s on your mind?” Frankie’s arm tightened around Evan’s shoulders. She pulled them closer so that their head rested just below her chin. Frankie pressed a light kiss to Evan’s head, and their eyes drifted closed.
“Are you nervous about therapy tomorrow?”
Frankie’s first appointment hadn’t exactly been on their mind, but it was related. Evan just hoped that returning to therapy wouldn’t worsen the night terrors. She had been through enough already.
“No. I doubt much will happen in the first session. More of a get-to-know-you thing. Why do you ask?” Frankie reached for the remote, paused the movie, and tilted Evan’s chin up so that they could face her.
Affection warmed her dark brown eyes into a golden hue.
Evan had never looked at someone before and thought, “That person loves me. I know because I can see it clear as day.” While Caleb had loved Evan, his eyes had never given too much away.
Frankie’s eyes were like a window, with Evan peering into her very soul. It was breathtaking. And terrifying.
“I have something to tell you. You might be mad,” they blurted.
“Alright,” Frankie returned slowly. “Spill.” Her nails scored the length of Evan’s cheek and throat lightly as she spoke. Besides the muscle in her jaw twitching, there was nothing to indicate their words had upset her.
“I-I never thought I’d come to Vancouver and decide to stay. I was supposed to complete the … job—”
“Kill me, you mean.”
Evan balked at how direct she was. Of course she knew .
They nodded, cutting their gaze to the TV once more.
The frozen image of Julia stared back at them.
“A contact of my … step father’s,” they practically spat, “saw you walking one day. He told Cecil when he went back to Toronto. That’s …
Cecil is my stepfather. Anyway, Jerry showed him your picture.
He’s been obsessed with you since Caleb. ”
“And he couldn’t find me due to the name and address change.”
“Right. And then suddenly he could. I was sent because …” Evan paused again, licking their dry lips and not missing how Frankie’s gaze dropped to their mouth.
“Well, at the time, it felt like the only way to get back on his good side. I-I’d just got out of prison, and he said if I took care of you, I’d be able to see my mom again. ”
“Your mom? How does she factor into this? Where is she?”
Evan clasped their hands together, wringing them out like a washcloth.
Frankie’s palm landed on them in a comforting gesture.
Rolling their lips inward, Evan whispered, “She’s in a mental hospital.
Completely lost it while I was put away.
I-I didn’t even know until I got out. She just …
stopped coming to visit. Cecil’s somehow in charge of the visitor list and refuses to put me on it. ”
Frankie cupped their cheek, averting Evan’s gaze to her once again.
“First of all, I’m so sorry you’ve had to deal with this alone, little thief.
Understand that you can tell me anything, okay?
Anything at all, I can handle it. Even if it’s in relation to someone plotting my demise.
And second, the term ‘mental hospital’ is outdated and brash, so please don’t refer to it as that.
Saying that your mother is in a psychiatric hospital is much more politically correct, yes? ”