Chapter 56 #2
I kept going as methodically as I could, muttering low words of comfort to Evie as I worked. Sweat built on my brow, dropping onto the bed, until finally, I pulled the last of her wound closed. Using the lighter again, I separated the line from the spool and tied it as neatly as I could.
As I’d worked, Evie slowly had started to relax, but only once I stood and announced it was done did her body untense.
A moment later, she started to sob. I helped her lie all the way down, and then I crawled into bed with her, clothes still on, and comforted her as best I could while paying attention to the wound.
She fell asleep in my arms, and I fell asleep sitting up, guarding her.
She woke in the middle of the night, and I got her more water and pills, thankful we didn’t have work today or tomorrow. Hopefully, she’d be walking by then.
By morning, she was resting peacefully.
I stayed by her side all day, getting her anything she needed when she was awake and doing what investigating I could while she was asleep.
I knew it was Arthur Englund who’d stabbed her.
I just wasn’t sure why he did it in such a public place and why he hadn’t finished the job.
Was he sending a message, or was he that bad at murder?
Evie sat up for the first time almost twenty-four hours after the attack. She was sore, her face puffy from crying, but she was alive.
“You’re really fucking lucky.” I chuckled, still in disbelief that I’d managed to seal a wound with a paperclip and fishing line.
“This isn’t funny,” she snarled.
I paused, surprised. “I didn’t say it was. I just— It was scary for a minute. I wasn’t sure you—”
“I what?” She stood, wobbling on her feet.
I jumped up to catch her, but she pushed me away. She limped to my closet, pulling a shirt off a hanger, along with a pair of basketball shorts, slid the clothes on. I stood to watch so I could catch her if she fell.
“Evie, you need to rest.” I sighed. “We can’t have a repeat of last night.”
She winced as she dressed and sat down on a nearby chair, breathing heavily. What was she thinking? There was no way she should be up right now.
“The closer we get to finishing off the men on my list, the more dangerous it’s going to get. I know that. You don’t have to throw it in my face.” She glared at me.
I sighed. “That’s not what I was saying. Evie…” Inhaling deeply, I braced myself to bare my heart to her. “I thought I was going to watch you die, and the thought killed me. I don’t want you to be in a position like that again.”
She stared, her face softening for a moment before returning to a deadpan expression.
“Well, I lived,” she muttered. “Please take me home.”
“Home? Evie, you can’t go home right now. You’re—” My mouth fell open, and I laughed incredulously. “I’m not driving you anywhere. You need to lie back down.”
She shook her head. “You want me to stop, but I can’t. I won’t. You want me to be scared, but I’m just angrier. Arthur and Elliott are dead.” She gritted her teeth. “If you won’t drive me home, I’ll call Skye or Bryce.” She reached for her purse, pulling her phone out and quickly tapping on it.
She mumbled that Bryce was on his way and dropped back down into the chair, exhaling deeply.
“Evie—please,” I begged. Cujo and Precious, hearing our voices grow louder, bounded up the stairs carrying their rope toys. They ran to her and set them on the ground for her to play with them, and I shooed them back to give her space.
Shakily, she stood, wincing as she did.
She shuffled out into the hall, and I followed behind, grabbing her arm to help stabilize her. Despite wanting to lift her up and toss her back in bed, I forced myself to assist her downstairs. I wasn’t going to force Evie to stay if she didn’t want to.
“I’m leaving. Don’t follow me. Actually—I don’t want your help at all anymore. I’m going solo for the rest of this. I’ll kill Arthur and Elliott on my own.”
“You literally can’t,” I snapped, putting my hand on the front door to hold it shut. “It was going to be nearly impossible with my assistance. They’ll eat you alive if you try to do this alone.”
“I’m not going to let them. I’m going to finish this, then sell my house and my fucking YouTube channel and fly to Mexico to live off the money. Let me go, Sebastian,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Evie, come on,” I pleaded. “Don’t do this. I—” My face crumpled. “I was watching The Exorcist.” My voice cracked as I said the magic words.
She stared, taking in my confession. The sound of blood pumping rushed in my ears as I waited for her to do or say anything. My chest rose and fell in quick bursts, pleading to not be let down.
Evie stared at me, her lips pursed and her eyes slowly turning down.
“You’re my Final Girl.”
The words slipped from my lips, a whisper of defeat.
A horn honked from outside, and we glanced through the window to see Bryce’s truck. We turned our attention back to each other.
Evie shook her head. “I’m really not.” She reached up, yanked the necklace I’d given her just the day before off her neck, breaking the clasp, and handed it to me. “I’m no one’s Final Girl. I’m my mother’s avenger. After I finish what I came here to do, I hope they kill me.”
She opened the door and stumbled out, pressing her hand to her wound.
“That way, I won’t have to think about what I’ve done. Goodbye, Sebastian. Don’t call me.”