Chapter Twenty-Five
Everett Young
I stare at the Carmichael residence in an eerie silence as fear and panic crawl up my throat. The three hours it took to get back to Rockhill were spent in an agonizing debate with Skylar, Kelly, and Henry as we hashed out our plan.
I’m still on the fence about the reality that there is a plan. I should be leaving this state, no backtracking further into it.
But Skylar is convinced our plan will work, and honestly, it’s a decent one. He turned his scheming brain up to ten and found a way for us to stay together, right here in Sinclair.
The joy and anticipation in his eyes tell me that he is certain of our victory, and that he will take some joy in knocking my adoptive father down a peg. I can relate to that joy.
Henry and Kelly sit in the front seats, patiently waiting for Sky and me to get a move on. Our plan does not require our friends to do anything but wait and then act as our getaway car.
“We can do this,” Skylar declares with confidence, reaching over to grip my hand in his. “We go in, record him being his typical self, and threaten to out him if he outs me. That’s all.”
And it really is that simple. So why am I afraid? Why am I sweating, dreading walking back into my childhood home? It was never a place of love and acceptance, but it was still mine.
Well, up until recently.
Skylar opens the car door and tugs me along with him, speedwalking toward the front entryway. My heart is sinking, my forehead beading with perspiration.
“Evie,” Skylar whispers, stopping short of the concrete step before us as he pulls out his phone and hits record on a new voice memo. “You’ll be okay. I’m here.”
He’s here. Yes, I guess he is. And as long as Ash doesn’t ruin everything, he always will be.
“Let’s go in,” I reply.
Opening the front door, I push inside. Skylar trails behind me, still clinging to my hand as we listen for movement.
I can hear Ash’s voice coming from the den, so I head in that direction. Every step closer reveals a neon warning sign—my nervous system is detecting a new threat, another punch to the gut or slap to the face.
False alarm, I tell myself. He can’t touch you now.
But he can, if he wants to. I can’t stop him no matter how strong I am. Once I stand before him, I am a child again.
I round the corner and stand in the archway of the den, spotting Ash where he sits on the leather couch. Felicita is next to him, mid-laugh. It’s cut short as they notice us, eyes darting between me and where Skylar is half hidden behind me.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Ash snaps, standing up from the couch in a hurry.
“I’m not leaving,” I tell him, and despite my fear, I sound relatively calm. “I want to know why you’re so insistent that I go.”
“Why?” he sneers. “Because you’re a queer, and a disobedient son. How many times must I explain it to you?”
“Apparently several times,” Felicita mumbles, glaring at us around her husband’s towering form.
“You’re blackmailing me into leaving Florida because I’m bisexual? Because I won’t act as your puppet anymore? Because I won’t let you hit me again?”
I hit all the buzzwords, doing my best to collect the right evidence. I feel Skylar shuffle closer, his phone in his free hand.
“I’ve said a million times,” Ash says. “Get out of my house and leave that boy in Sinclair; otherwise, I’ll make sure he never lands a stable job.”
“Blackmail is illegal,” Skylar cuts in, his tone hostile.
“I’m a fucking lawyer, kid. I know that. I also know how to get what I want,” Ash boasts. “How do you think I got my hands on those documents in the first place? If you think you can fuck with me, you’re sorely mistaken.”
“Being a lawyer won’t stop you from going to jail.” I square my shoulders, anticipating a potential blow as I add, “You are not invincible, Ash.”
“You don’t understand shit,” he spits out. “I’m not going to sit here and debate my abilities with you. You should know better than anyone, Everett, just how invincible I am.”
An ugly, spiteful smile curls at his lips as he takes a menacing step forward. I feel Skylar go rigid beside me.
“Come on,” Ash taunts, “show me what you got. Are you finally ready to hit back? To defend yourself? You’re a fucking pussy, Everett. If you’ve finally found your balls, I can put you in your place again.”
We have enough. Between admitting to blackmail and threatening me, insinuating his previous abuse, we have more than enough. If this audio were to ever leak, Ash would be done for, not only in his social circles, but legally as well.
“There’s no need,” I reply. My hands are shaking, and my heart is pounding, but with Skylar next to me, poised and ready for anything, I find that I no longer feel as afraid. “We’ve got enough.”
“Got enough?” Felicita squeaks, her confused eyes darting between the current company.
“What does that mean?” Ash grits out.
“It means,” Skylar says sweetly, “that we have all of this on audio. You’re fucked, bitch.”
Ash takes one angry step forward before the words really settle in. He pauses, his eyes falling to the phone in Skylar’s hands. “Are you… Did you record me? Without my consent?!”
“We did. And I’m fairly certain that the nonconsensual recording won’t mean much in the face of all the crimes you just admitted to.” Skylar smiles smugly. “What was it, Evie? Blackmail, assault, general assholery?”
“Delete it!” Ash screeches, taking another large step toward us. “Delete it now, or else!”
I move to speak, but Skylar beats me to it, his manic laugh echoing around the room. “Or else what? I’m still recording, dumbass!”
I admire his resilience in this moment. He is unashamed and unconcerned in his amusement and anger. I can see a glint in his eyes—one I’ve never noticed before.
“I swear to god, Everett,” Ash snaps, turning his attention back to me. I believe that he understands Skylar isn’t an easy target, but I sure am. “If you don’t delete that and get out, you will regret it.”
“Why would he regret it, hm?” Skylar presses, holding his phone up in an obvious attempt to capture his voice better.
Ash just growls in irritation.
“Answer him,” I command, narrowing my eyes. “Are you scared, Dad? Are you trembling? It doesn’t feel so nice, does it?”
Shock briefly flashes across my father’s features, but a moment later, it’s gone, and his eyes drop to where my fingers are intertwined with Skylar’s.
“How could I ever be scared of the likes of you?” he grunts out. “A pair of fags can’t touch me.”
What the fuck did he just say? Sure, Ash has used the word ‘homo’, as well as ‘queer’, but he’s never slurred. Heat flames my face as I stand frozen, unable to respond.
But Skylar’s grip on my fingers loosens, falling away completely as he takes a step forward to stand fully at my side. He shoves his phone into his pocket.
And his expression… I have never seen this before. There is no emotion being portrayed, and not in the typical ‘I’m-too-good-for-this-interaction’ way that he sometimes does, but in an eerie, terrifying way.
He does not shake, and he does not falter as he asks, “What did you just say?”
“You heard me,” Ash snaps back.
“What did you just say?” Skylar repeats, anger finally dripping into his features and his tone. “Say it again, motherfucker. I am begging you to say it again.”
Ash has the good sense to take a step back, but he does not surrender. No, instead, he laughs as he replies, “You think you’re big and bad, little boy? Please, I could eat you for breakfast. I said that you’re a fag. You like dick. You’re unnatural.”
And suddenly it hits me. In my mind, I’m standing in that motel room, watching Skylar cry as he says, “He called me a faggot, and I nearly killed him.”
Ash has just opened Pandora’s box without the slightest clue. Shouldn’t it be in a report somewhere that that kid had slurred at Sky? Shouldn’t Ash know not to wrestle with a poisonous snake?
“You… You can’t say that,” Skylar mutters, his eyes glassy and unfocused as he stands beside me, completely still.
I can’t tell if he’s fighting his anger or reaching deep inside of himself and beckoning it forward.
“He can say whatever he wants,” Felicita sasses, crossing her arms from where she still sits.
“If I want to call you what you are, then I sure as hell will,” Ash adds. “I have seen your kind before, Skylar: selfish, narcissistic, and malicious. You want to protect yourself? Leave Everett behind forever, and I’ll leave you be.”
He’s negotiating for my life, for the right to destroy it.
“What will you do with him if I do? If I up and leave him here, what will you do?” There is an undertone of interest, of joy, in Skylar’s voice.
He wants the answer to be horrible. He wants the gory, miserable details. And my best guess as to why? They will fuel him.
“You’ve turned my son into a creature I do not recognize. Once you’re gone, I will do my best to beat that influence out of him.” Ash is honest again, now that the phone is put away.
Skylar grins, his slack hands balling into fists at his sides. Everything around me slows to half-speed, and I feel like an outsider to this experience. I’m not even here anymore—it is only Skylar and Ash.
And I know how it ends.
Skylar has disengaged his safety mechanism. This version of him that I’ve just discovered is on full display.
“Good luck with that,” he mocks.
And then Skylar lunges, quick and lethal in his movements, just as he is in the sand. As he zips past me, I can see it in his eyes—the malicious intent, the desire to break and dismantle and harm.
He is, in this moment, his very own force of nature. Skylar encompasses all the harshest, most vicious things to walk this earth, all wrapped into one.
I know with everything in me that if no one intervenes, he will hurt my father. He will rip the man to shreds. For the first time in my entire life, I am not afraid of Ash, but scared for him.