Chapter 3 Evie
The worst thing about Aiden wasn’t that he wrecked my relationships.
Or my days.
Or even my entire perception of men as a species.
No, the worst thing about Aiden was that he could do all of it—turn my life into a frustrating, emotionally chaotic, completely unhinged mess—and never seem to care.
Like, ever.
Even a full day after helping get me dumped, he didn’t care.
No guilty expression. No flicker of remorse. Nothing. Just the occasional glance in my direction to scowl at me like I was the problem.
Which, okay, sure. Maybe I was part of the problem. But he had absolutely played a role.
Not that being a hot bodyguard was a crime exactly, but it was easier to blame him.
Still, I had to pretend nothing happened because the pack had decided tonight was movie night, and despite working together, living together, and occasionally wanting to kill each other, we also somehow chose to spend our free time together.
Hero had chosen the movie tonight and, for once, veered off his usual Scream marathon with a new slasher that had come out.
“Why do these idiots always split up? Like, yeah, Becky, you’ll definitely outrun the guy with the chainsaw in your six-inch heels if you head off into the woods alone.
Survival of the dumbest, honestly,” Hero said.
His dark hair had gotten unruly, longer strands shoved back from his angled face.
Strong brows cut sharp lines above his eyes—expressive enough that I always knew whether to keep my distance or risk getting closer.
“As if you could do any better,” Mason added. He always felt like the opposite of Hero.
And he was Hero’s opposite in every way. Where Hero radiated cold detachment, Mason carried warmth. Golden skin, dark features, a grin that felt like sunlight—paired with an easy, happy-go-lucky energy that made him my favorite more often than not.
“In heels or running from a killer with a chainsaw? Let’s say I don’t have to wear the heels—I would kill him first? They always run away, but no one seems to make a solid plan to kill the huge bear of a man who can barely run.”
The girl on the screen died, the killer attacking her as she screamed, thrashing hard until the other people in her group heard her.
I didn’t mind slashers, but scary movies in general weren’t my thing.
I never knew if it was my attention span or the movie, but my mind drifted away too often to keep up.
“You mock it, but you chose the movie,” I said.
“And I’m loving every second of it. It only makes me feel more sure that if I ever had to run from a psychotic, knife-wielding maniac, I’d be more of a maniac and kill him first.”
Harper met my eye before swinging back to him with an eyebrow cocked. “Are you insinuating you wouldn’t be the knife-wielding maniac?”
Hero grinned, the dim light from the TV casting him in an eerie light. “You’re right. Would you like to take a walk through some dark woods with me, Harper?”
She rolled her eyes, fixing them back on the TV as Hero leaned the slightest bit closer to her.
Now it was my turn to roll my eyes. Honestly, Harper was starting to look just as hopeless with Hero as I was with Aiden.
I chewed on my bottom lip, a familiar worry stirring in my gut—but I wasn’t sure if it was for her or for myself.
“Are you threatening me?” she asked.
“Don’t you take everything I say as a threat?” Hero asked, not even looking away from the movie.
“Considering you are a legit serial killer, yes, I do.”
He only smiled more, proud as she turned away from him. “Good.”
Another victim screamed on the screen, the endless sound grating on my nerves. I was too tired for this. I also couldn’t stand sitting here keeping my eyes in line with the TV while Aiden was on the couch across from me.
It wouldn’t matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore Aiden when we were in the same room. It’s like my body knew the second we were close, not letting me forget—even if he was right next to me—that I couldn’t reach out and touch him.
Zack threw himself over the back of the couch next to me. I don’t know if he realized how much I noticed him always trying to be near me, but I didn’t show it. He kept trying regardless.
He smiled, but his eyes lingered a beat too long on my face.
“What’s up?” he asked, knocking his shoulder into mine. “You look tired.”
Before I could give him hell, Aiden interrupted. “You should go to bed.”
“Excuse me?”
“If you are tired,” he said slowly, “you should go to bed, because I do not want to deal with your cranky ass tomorrow.”
“Who insinuated you had to deal with me at all?”
His jaw twitched in annoyance, his eyes flicking to Rook, and the anger in my chest burned.
Of course, it would always be because of Rook.
The fact I had to face was Aiden would always be indifferent to me. Sure, I annoyed him sometimes, and sometimes he cared if I stayed alive or not, but past simple friendly care, he was indifferent.
Because he only stayed close to me since Rook told him to. Rook couldn’t watch after me all the time so he handed the job off to his closest friend.
I shifted, taking him out of my line of sight and focusing on the movie until the lull of it all had me drifting off to sleep.
The smell hit me first—sharp chemicals mixed with burning carpet. It wasn’t a good scent, it’s what made me sit up in bed, eyes wide open.
The room was still dark, the faint light under my door was normal. My parents usually stayed up long after I went to bed so it didn’t bother me. I pulled in a deep breath, the air thicker and warmer than it ever had been.
A second passed and I reached for the light on my nightstand, the light flooding the room, making me hiss.
“Evie!” Rook yelled. His room was next to mine—but the sound was too close. Like he was standing right outside my door.
I could see the smoke curling under my door now, the air getting worse as I tried to get my bearings enough to get up.
“Evie, get away from the door, get down,” he yelled.
“Rook!” I yelled, coughing as I tried to say more.
“Just stay back!” he yelled, fear lacing his tone like I had never heard from him before and making me pull the covers over my head.
A fire.
Our house was burning.
Tears welled in my eyes as the banging started. Somewhere in the house, I could hear glass shatter, but Rook continued banging at my door.
“The door handle is too hot, Evie. I need to get inside.”
“Is your room on fire?” I yelled back.
“Yes, and yours is about to be. We have to get outside.”
A loud, painful groan escaped him as he hit the door again. “Evie, it’s about to break, but the fire is bad. You have to get behind your dresser or desk—anything—and cover your face.” He coughed, and I did, too, the smoke growing thicker.
I moved, crouching down behind my desk as the door burst open with a bang. The room went dark with black smoke before the fire erupted, covering every inch with a flash of light.
I stayed down, crying harder now, not hearing another word from Rook. It felt like hours before he was there, screaming as he wrapped his arms around me, dragging me from my now burning hiding spot.
“Come on, Evie. Stay against me. Try to hold your breath. We can still get to the stairs, but you have to hold on to me.” I nodded, crying harder as I wrapped around him.
He screamed again but held me as he headed out.
I could hear more banging, someone screaming, but I didn’t know if it was me, or Rook, or my parents.
Screaming and more screaming until the world jolted me awake with another scream.
“Evie,” the muffled voice yelled again. “Evie, please—wake the fuck up.”
I bolted up, the world tilting as I reached out, clutching at anything steady like my life depended on it.
“Evie,” Aiden said, softer now. “Breathe before you pass out.”
Cool, fresh air flooded my lungs. There was no smoke, no screaming—I was back in the living room. I gasped, taking another deep breath.
“You’re okay,” he whispered, his warm breath tickling my ear. I clawed my way closer until my legs straddled him, curling into his lap as he held me close.
His hands were warm against my cool, clammy skin, gently soothing in a way he had no right to be able to do so easily. Slowly, he slid his hands up my arms to rest on my shoulders, then cupped my face in his palms.
“You’re okay,” he repeated softly, his eyes locking with mine, anchoring me to this reality.
I listened. Mostly because I didn’t have a choice. The sharp inhale of air burned my lungs, and I shuddered against him, another gasp escaping as I forced myself to calm down.
“It was a dream,” Aiden murmured. “You’re fine now.”
His thumb moved over my jaw, caressing my face with a gentle touch I leaned into.
And that’s when I realized where I was.
Straddling Aiden.
And not just straddling him—pressed against him. The heat of his body burning through my shirt, the tension crackling like an electric wire between us.
He must have realized it, too, because his hands froze.
I shifted—a small, subtle movement—but not subtle enough.
His fingers stilled against my skin. His jaw clenched tight, the muscle twitching like a live grenade. His hips shifted beneath me, and I could read the discomfort across his face as easily as any computer code.
He definitely noticed, too.
I smiled, slow and dangerous, before I sank down farther, the heat growing as we got closer. His sharp inhale made me pause, wondering if he liked this or was already debating how to get out of this.
His fingers dug into my hips harder, and before I could push him further—before I could get one last hit of satisfaction—he lifted me up and threw me off him.
Not gently, either.
I hit the couch, letting out a grunt and blinking up at him as he stood over me. A hand dragged down his face as if he were physically erasing what happened.
He let out a slow, steady exhale. “You were having a nightmare.” As if I didn’t know. “I thought you stopped breathing there for a minute. I didn’t know what to do.”
“And all you came up with if I stopped breathing was to shake me?” I asked with a hint of a smile. “Remind me not to come to you for medical emergencies.”
“Well, you were drooling so mouth-to-mouth wasn’t exactly an option.”
“How sweet. Here I thought you were holding me because you cared.”
“No. I’ve just heard all the stories about people choking on their own spit.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Right. And that’s why you threw me off like I was diseased? Because of the drool?”
He finally turned, but his expression was unreadable. Cold and controlled, he turned right back into the Aiden I knew so well.
“I was trying to make sure you were okay,” he said, his voice tight.
Something inside me twisted hard.
It shouldn’t have hurt. It shouldn’t have bothered me. It’s not like we hadn’t been through this before. Aiden would get close, I would push for more, and he would push me away in whatever way he could.
And yet, it still did.
Because once again, it wasn’t me he cared about—it was keeping his word to Rook.
I shot up from the couch, ignoring the lingering chill in my chest, the way my hands still shook from the dream.
“Goodnight, Ace. I will relieve you of your guard duty of making sure I don’t die tonight and head to bed.”
I left without another word, not waiting for a response from him. I didn’t want to hear the indifferent tone he had toward me anymore.
If one thing ran in our family, it was a need for revenge. Unlike my brother, though, my revenge was on a scale smaller than hunting a man down and killing him.
Okay, never say never, but killing Aiden wasn’t on my to-do list.
I padded my way down the hall, reaching my room without even realizing it.
I could rearrange all his tools—or maybe hide a few—and watch him lose his mind trying to work. Or I could add water to the gas tank of his bike and savor the moment it stalled, maybe even bleach and wait as it destroyed the entire bike. But then I wouldn’t be able to ride with him.
I needed something bigger.
Something to show me whether Aiden was here for me—or if it really was only loyalty to my brother keeping him by my side.
I needed an answer.
Something to crush the glimmer of hope in my chest that he might care about me as more than a duty. Or at least something sharp enough to shatter the patronizing armor he wore whenever I got too close.
I lay down, clicking on one of my favorite romance movies to calm my frayed nerves before drifting off into a fitful sleep where my plan stitched itself together seamlessly.