Chapter 2
Kortez
Evie’s been gone all night. For the third night in
a row.
She doesn’t think I know.
Somehow, for some reason, that frustrates me more than her actually being gone.
How can she not realize how much I love her?
I’m aware of every breath she takes, my heart determined to keep her lungs filling with air and her blood pumping for as long as possible – because life would be so dark without my Evie.
I don’t like the dark.
The dark is where the bad men made us live, forcing my mother to leave me alone time after time. She always came back covered in tears and blood.
The dark is where I, at seven years old, tried to attack one of the men who came to collect my mother and instead got backhanded so hard I blacked out.
The dark is where I was ripped out of my mother’s arms, my limbs tied together as tears streamed down my face, and my throat became raw with my pleas.
The dark is where I heard the gunshot echoing from the old warehouse as they carried my screaming form away from the only love and safety I had ever known.
Then, the dark is where they left me, only comforted by the shadows from the tall walls of Saint Mary’s as the bad men drove away and left me wailing on the orphanage doorstep.
Evie found me the next morning, screaming and crying as the Mothers tried to comfort me and warm me up from being in the cold for so long. She was only five years old, and yet, I knew she was my new safety.
It’s been almost thirteen years since I showed up at Mary’s and that hasn’t changed. Evie is still my safety and now, she’s my love – even if she doesn’t know it.
We’ve been asked countless times how long we’ve been together, or why we weren’t together when we told them we were just friends.
Evie has gotten to the point where she laughs the questions off most of the time, letting an awkward silence fill the void until the person who asked realizes they messed up. It’s not so easy for me.
I want us together. I want her to know just how far I’ve fallen for her.
I want her to know that her beauty nearly brings me to my knees every time I see her, and how my breath catches in my throat anytime she walks into a room.
I want her to know how her singing is better than any angel and how each drawing she gives me puts a little bit of my soul back where it should be.
I’m scared, though. Terrified. Evie has the power to break my heart so thoroughly that I would never be able to find the pieces again. I wouldn’t want to.
I’ve realized, though, that I can’t continue to live in fear. In just one more month, Evie and I will take off in my newly acquired car and drive across the state to start school. Together. Just as it always has been. Just as it always will be.
It’s hard enough to live in the same orphanage as her, but when we’re in the same home, our bedrooms side by side where I could see her anytime I wanted? It’s going to be worse than the rope burns I had thirteen years ago – the ones that caused permanent scars around my wrists.
So, when we get to our new apartment, I’m going to tell her.
I’ve thought about telling her before we left, but I don’t want to scare her off and make her rethink the decision to leave with me.
We need to get out of Saint Mary’s, together, and then I’ll tell her.
Her freedom means too much to her, and deep down, she knows that even if she breaks my heart, I would willingly give her all the pieces wrapped in a crimson bow for her troubles.
I look across the street from Saint Mary’s and see my new-to-me 2010 cherry red Mustang sitting under the streetlight. Evie’s name shines in the moonlight from the sticker she added on the corner of the passenger window.
When I asked her what kind of car I should buy, she only gave me two requirements: it had to go fast and she had to have her name on it.
The first, because she swears she’s going to take it out on a joyride, and the second, because she said no other woman is going to sit in her seat and mess it up without knowing there would be consequences.
Except the word she used for woman was a lot more profane.
She’s…
A loud revving noise makes me turn my head to see a brand-new black Maserati speeding down the road – with Evie sitting in the open window.
I’m going to kill this entitled, selfish, cocky, low-life mother –
The car stops right in front of the back entrance of Saint Mary’s, the music turned down low enough as to not alert the Mothers that anyone is out back lingering. The loud engine may give away our cover, though.
Atlas turns the key in the ignition, the engine humming to a stop as Evie jumps from the window and practically skips over to me.
“Did you see that, Kor? It was amazing! I swear I’ve never felt so free!” Evie squeezes her arms around my waist before backing up to grab Atlas’s hand as he comes to a stop in front of me. “You should’ve come with us tonight! Atlas took me to this street racing thing and guess what? We won!”
My eyes narrow as I look over at the man standing next to her.
Atlas Valente.
She hasn’t told me that they’re dating, but I’m not stupid. He’s looking at her as if she’s his – the same way I look at her. He sees the similarity in my eyes the same way I see it in his.
We aren’t friends.
“You took her to a street race? Isn’t that illegal? And extremely dangerous?”
Atlas shoots me his signature smirk, the one I want to wipe off his face with a chunk of concrete. “She’s never in any danger with me, mezza sega. I know how to keep my woman safe.”
His woman?
He may have his arm around her now, but it’s me she’s leaving with in a month.
Me who has been with her for the past thirteen years.
Me who held a heating pad on her skin when she got her period and who helped her study for every single calculus exam last year.
It’s always been me, and it always will be me.
I clench my jaw and take a step forward, hating that I have to look up even a few inches into his eyes. “She didn’t look very safe hanging out of your car, cobarde.”
His eyes flash at the insult, and he finishes closing the distance between us. “Careful what you call me, Kor. I may have to show you how brave I am. We Italians are a proud people.”
My hands clench into fists, but Evie slides between us before the tension can rise any higher. “Okay, you two, knock it off. I do not want to have a dick measuring contest by the Saint Mary’s dumpsters.”
Atlas looks down at her with a smile, pressing a kiss to her forehead as his eyes slide over to mine. “Where do you suggest we have one then, Reginetta?”
Evie and I both roll our eyes, no doubt for two very different reasons. “Very funny, Atty.” She nods her head to the Maserati still sitting with the driver’s door open. “You should get going; it’s almost time for morning check-ins.”
Atlas sighs dramatically and nods, leaning his face down towards hers. Evie turns her head, guilt in her eyes as she looks at me. Even if I’ve never spoken my feelings to her out loud, she knows it feels wrong to be with him. She has to.
He chuckles and looks up at me, too. “Kortez doesn’t mind, Eve. Do you, Kor? A beautiful girl like Evangeline deserves a proper goodnight kiss.”
He knows, too. He knows I’m in love with her, and he’s still determined to make me watch as the woman I love kisses him instead of me.
Grinding my teeth together, I sharply shake my head no. Evie shoots me a shy smile and turns back toward him, her body immediately leaning into his.
I should walk away. I should turn around and move the brick from the propped door so Evie and I can go inside.
Instead, I watch. I watch as Atlas’s arms wrap around her waist and pull them so close that even a slip of paper couldn’t fit between them.
I watch her eyes flutter closed as his lips touch hers, gentle at first and slowly gaining power as he controls her body with his very touch.
I hear her moan into his mouth as his tongue slips in and the soft gasp she releases when he nibbles on her bottom lip.
I take it all in, and jealousy roars through me in a fiery inferno.
That should be me.
My eyes drift over to his car before finding mine still parked across the street. I was so proud of the purchase, using most of my savings from odd computer jobs to buy the perfect car for Evie. For us, together.
I find the black Maserati again and wince.
I thought I bought the perfect car. I thought I was enough. Another moan reaches my ears, and the wince turns into a full-blown shudder.
What if I’m not enough for her? What if I never will be? She’s the love of my life….and I’m just a misfit.