12. Evie
Evie
BOOK CLUB BANDITS
BELLA
I’m sorry did he just…
lick her everywhere???
CINDY
he’s claiming her
BELLA
and he couldn’t do that like a normal werewolf???
LAYLA
that is normal for them
BELLA
too much saliva for me
*Cindy added Valenti to chat*
CINDY
until the beautiful diva gets her own phone, welcome to the chat Valenti!
you’ve been warned this is top secret girl business ONLY Evie can read the thread
VALENTI
HAHAHA he rolled his eyes as he handed me the phone
you’re right though
my interest is piqued
LAYLA
YAY
she’s being converted
Stumbling through the door with a buzz humming through my bloodstream, the wine Cindy continued to pour down my throat sloshes low in my belly.
“Jesus, how much did you and Cindy drink?”
Straightening, Matteo’s question has me wanting to try and at least appear sober. “A little bit too much, possibly.”
The front door shuts as Matteo makes his way through the kitchen, heading straight for the medicine cabinet.
A hiccup escapes me. Leaning against the island, I sigh. “Cindy says the other two girls don’t drink so we had to make up for what they don’t consume.” Pointing at the ceiling, I declare, “I say that’s perfect girl math.”
“Girl math?”
“Yep, where it only makes sense to a girl.”
“Noted,” he drawls, sliding an Advil my way, along with a bottle of water. “Drink.”
Pushing off the island, I mock salute him. “Yes, sir. Anything for you, master.”
Matteo’s eyes flash.
The wine seems to have loosened my tongue, because after I swallow the pill, I’m not able to keep the realization to myself. “Holy shit, you like that kinky shit, don’t you?”
The water Matteo was drinking sprays across the kitchen floor.
In my wine addled brain, it’s the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Doubling over with laughter, tears form in the corners of my eyes as it replays in my mind.
“Did Cindy drug you too?” Matteo barks.
I point at his horrified face. “It went everywhere!” My hiccups continue to worsen the longer I laugh but I can’t stop, even when my stomach begins to ache from the muscle strain.
Matteo’s phone rings, joining my manic sound, but when he places the flashing screen in front of my face, my laughter dies a sudden death. Even my hiccups stop, the name scaring them away.
Serena Ellington.
“You need to talk to her. You can’t keep dodging her calls,” he says, matter-of-factly. “And I’m feeling uneasy about lying to her all the time.”
Squeezing my eyes shut, I suddenly feel like I’m spinning.
Perhaps now is the best time to talk to her. Maybe Cindy got me drunk enough I won’t remember what she says in the morning.
I grab the phone from him, sighing. Even the electric shock I always feel when I graze his skin doesn’t make me feel better.
You can do this, Evie.
Yet as I’m holding the phone in my palm, I find I can’t force my thumb to swipe across the screen and answer the call.
It stops ringing.
Matteo sighs. “Why are you avoiding her? Dove, what’s going on? Did something happen?”
Lifting my head to his, he blurs in front of me, swaying.
Wait, is he swaying or am I?
“Dove?” he asks with a frown.
The phone starts ringing again.
The sudden sound, paired with the name, makes me scream. Instinctively, my hand shoots upwards, the phone flying with the momentum, but Matteo catches it.
He huffs. “Actually, you shouldn’t talk to her when you’re this drunk—”
“Fuck her, I’m not weak! I can face her!”
Snatching the phone from his hand, and ignoring his wide eyes, horrified at my outburst, the wine takes over. Liquid courage makes me hit answer.
I lift my nose in the air. “Mother,” I say curtly.
Matteo’s brows pucker into a frown at my tone, but he can’t see the secret I’m hiding. No one saw for years.
And he doesn’t need to see this, either.
Spinning on my heel, I hurry through the living room until I’m out on the balcony. I’m hit by the crisp night wind, the harshness of it sobering me slightly as my mother sighs on the other end of the phone.
“Finally! Evie, I’ve been trying to talk to you for weeks!”
I know, I think to myself.
“What’s this I hear about you and Carter breaking up? Are you okay?”
The genuine worry in her voice has me scoffing before that turns into a bark of incredulous laughter. Is she fucking serious? “Interesting. You sound like you care more about my break-up than what actually matters.”
My mother sighs again, but instead of it sounding like relief, this is more potent, her lungs filling with resentment. After all, I know exactly what it feels like to have someone say they love you when what they really want is for you to shut up.
“Are you still harping on about this?”
Her brisk tone has my jaw unhinging before I find my nerve and blurt, “Harping on?”
“Yes, Evie. This is growing tiresome.”
“You’re tired?” I ask, scoffing. “Imagine how I feel, Mother.”
“Please, Evie, I want my little girl back. Stop this nonsense.”
I clench my teeth, trying to bite back a retort. Once I have a handle on my emotions, I ask calmly, “Why are you calling?”
“I wanted to check to see if you are all right.” She says this as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Has my mother always been this cruel? Always lacked such empathy and self-awareness?
“You know damn well I’m not okay.”
Silence settles over us, the only sound coming from the hustle and bustle of downtown Denver below me.
“If you’re going to continue to spread such hatred toward me over this, then we need to have a conversation like two adults.”
My eyes shutter closed. That bone-deep tiredness leaking into my body once more.
“What is there to say, Mom? I told you what happened. You don’t want to seem to accept the truth.”
“The truth?” she snaps over the line. My eyes fly open in surprise. “That is enough, Evie. This is no longer appropriate. I have been extremely patient as I wait for you to come to your senses, but it’s clear you’ve fully lost them.”
My anger rises like a coiled snake, ready to strike her hit for hit. “I’m not the monster in this situation. I’m not the one with the sick mind!”
Her sigh is tired, heavy with dread. “I’m sorry, Evie, but this has gone on for long enough. I’ve decided to have a conversation with—”
“Don’t you dare,” I spit through gritted teeth, venom filling every syllable.
“It’s no longer appropriate to keep from him.”
“How?”
“You’re running around spreading—”
“Spreading what, Mother? The truth? And for your information, I haven’t even told that many people.
” Despite the red-hot fury rushing through my veins, my eyes blur.
I wish they were turning glassy from the wine but that’s long gone now.
“Why don’t you just say it? Stop beating around the bush and say what you have been insinuating for months. ”
“Well, Evie, these are serious allegations.”
“I know.” It takes everything in me not to scream. “What happened is a serious matter.”
Her voice lowers to a whisper. “It can have implications on his life, Evie. His livelihood.”
Her words, as quiet as they are, strike my body as if she screamed them. My anger is quickly replaced by bile. The tears filling my eyes pool to the point I can no longer see the gorgeous city skyline.
My voice cracks as I ask, “What about my life? What about what it’s done to me and the serious implications it’s had on my life?” I can’t stop the sniffle that escapes me. “How about how he ruined me, Mother? What about what he did to me? He should be locked away for the vile and disgusting—”
“That’s enough, Evie! It didn’t fucking happen!” she screams.
The oxygen in my lungs evaporates. My body stumbles back, my hand having to snatch the railing beside me to stop myself from falling from the blow of her words. It’s as if she were standing right in front of me and slapped me.
But she’s not, because if she were, maybe she would stop talking. Maybe she would see how deeply she cut me, maybe she would see how much she’s hurting me, maybe she would see that she’s breaking me.
But she’s not.
And I’m starting to realize that even if she were, she wouldn’t care.
“Your mind has conjured up a very dark and disturbing story and I think you should seek help as to why.”
My mouth opens and closes, and it takes an ungodly amount of time for me to find my voice. “You think I’m the one who needs help?” I manage to croak out.
“Yes, it’s wrong that you made this up, Evie.”
“I didn’t make up anything.”
“Stop lying to yourself. It’s a load of garbage.”
Everything around me seems to stop, including myself.
The tears, my heartbeat, my lungs.
Time even takes a weighted pause, as if to confirm she really just said what she did.
“You don’t believe me?” I ask, my voice one of a mere child’s.
My mom hesitates as if she can feel what she’s about to do, but she still decides to hit me with a sledgehammer anyway as she says curtly, “No.”
Life returns with that one word.
But not like before.
Nothing will ever be the same again after that one syllable.
I’ve returned not as myself but as a zombie, dead on the inside, my soul long gone but my physical body forced to continue walking through this miserable existence.
“Why?” I hear myself ask.
“Why what?”
“Why don’t you believe me?”
“It’s confusing, Evie. I don’t understand how you could just randomly remember one day out of the blue. People don’t forget things like that.”
Closing my eyes to try and block it all out, I say for the millionth time, “I’ve explained why. Every psychologist can confirm that it happens, Mom.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Telling the truth?”
“Spreading lies!” she snaps, any composure she had completely gone.
My eyes flare at that. “I am not the liar, he is!” She can’t see the sneer that overcomes me, the utter disgust. “He is a vile human being and I hope he fucking dies!” I scream, every ounce of anger and hurt lacing my declaration.
My mom gasps. “That’s enough. I’m done with this conversation. I’m done listening to you about this stupid bullshit. You need help, Evie.”
“I’m not the one that needs help. He’s sick, and I wish you would step up and be the mother I remember growing up and defend me.”
“Well apparently your memories betray you so maybe I’m one of them too.”
The tears lining my eyes fall at her cruel remark, the wind wiping my hair in every direction, the weather turning chaotic like my uncontrollable heartbeat.
“Either you step up and be my mom and support me or don’t talk to me at all.”
Holding my breath, I wait. I wait for her to choose me, I wait for her to pick me over that horrible man, I wait for her to apologize for being so cruel to me.
I wait and I wait and I wait.
But it seems I’d die holding my breath.
“Sorry, Evie, but I don’t believe you.”
With shaking hands, I find the courage to stand up for myself. “Then you’re dead to me,” I whisper before ending the call.
The moment the phone disconnects, the weight of everything that transpired hits me at once. My knees give way, my body falling, and before I can try and gain control of myself, a startled, shocked sob breaks free.
Disgust coils within my stomach along with such unending pain, the heaviness of it drags me under. Her words are rocks tethered to my ankles, my final undoing. I’m pulled into the depths of the ocean and I fear I’ll never breech the surface for air again.
The sound of the patio door opening behind me isn’t enough to rouse me from my despair. Nothing can stop the ringing of my ears. Nothing will ever be able to erase those seven words from my mind.
It’s stuck.
On an endless loop.
Sorry, Evie, but I don’t believe you.
The last shred of my heart that was beating, that was clinging to life with everything it had, dies, and all it took was those seven words.
“Dove? What happened?”
Matteo’s voice is full of concern. It even sounds as if he’s hurting just seeing me in pain. But I can’t tell him. I can’t tell anyone.
Because look at what happens when I do.
My mother, who I thought would protect me forever, doesn’t believe me. My supposed best friend and partner betrayed me.
No one believes me.
The steps forward I made today in feeling like myself again crumble like ash in the wind.
Matteo is suddenly behind me on the balcony floor, wrapping his arms around me and cocooning me.
He runs a hand down my hair, trying to whisper soothing words, but he can’t fix this.
Even my mother calling me back and apologizing wouldn’t fix this.
She can’t take back the words she said, and I don’t think I can ever forgive her for it.
I don’t think I should.
“It’s okay, Dove. I’ve got you. Just breathe.”
But he doesn’t have me. He’s holding a shell of who I used to be, and he doesn’t understand that until I choke out through my tears, “She just clipped my wings.”