Track 17 Evil #2
“What’s up? Why don’t you want to go?”
“There’s no reason. I just don’t want to—”
“That’s a lie. Is it Mom’s new boyfriend?”
“No.”
“Is it her drinking? Does that still bother you? Because it’s been our whole lives, Syd. Who cares—”
“No! I just don’t want to go, okay?!”
“Nope,” she sang. “I’m not buying it.” I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I guess I’ll find out in Jersey.”
“Kat—”
“Already bought you the ticket, so.” I could hear her condescending twist of a smile.
“Then why’d you even ask!?” I flailed my arms up, annoyed. Kat always won. Even when we were kids. I don’t know why I ever bothered arguing with her in the first place.
“Yeahhh, I don’t know… I honestly thought you were going to say yes, and I was going to look like the best sister ever, but you got all weird instead, so it kinda got away from me. Anyway, see you home, sissy!”
I hung up the phone, anxious, aggravated, and deeply at war.
I did miss my sister. And it would be nice to be home together, but I was deeply worried it was too much of a risk.
Could I trust myself to be in the same town as E?
Could I handle knowing I could see him if I wanted, now that he would be within reach?
Would I be strong enough to walk away if I did see him?
And then I remembered who I was and how strong I’d become.
I’d known E’s number all these months and didn’t falter once.
What would being in the same town change?
Nothing. It wouldn’t change a damn thing.
Plus, who’s to say I’d even run into him in the first place?
It’s not like Kat hung out in the same places he did.
He didn’t even hang out, as far as I knew, which made my odds of success even better.
I was going to see my sisters, and that would be the end of it.
E had nothing to do with it, and that’s the way it would stay.
At least, that’s what I told myself as I packed a bag, kissed Jake goodbye, and boarded a plane that would land me in a place I no longer wanted to belong.
But sometimes, it doesn’t matter what you want, because fate has already decided for you.
And tough shit if you don’t like it—that’s just the way the cookie crumbles, isn’t it?
Believe it or not, I did well on my first day.
There was so much to catch up on with Ren, Kat, and Mom, I didn’t even have time to think of E.
Mom made her famous chicken pot pie, even though it was practically summer.
We made popcorn on the stove and only burnt it twice, which was a new record.
We cut a cake even though my birthday was still a week away, and we watched Grease, singing all the songs at the top of our lungs until we lost our voices.
It was the perfect way to knock out a third of the trip.
Day two was a horse of a different color. Mom was passed out drunk by seven, and Ren had plans with her—used to be friend, now—boyfriend, Brayden. Kat and I were on our own. I figured maybe we’d just have another movie night, get to bed early, but as always, Kat had other plans.
“Let’s go to Jimmy’s,” she said with a sly, mischievous grin.
“Jimmy’s?!” I was shocked. Jimmy’s was the neighborhood dive bar, and it was just about as grimy as it got.
The floors were so sticky, the linoleum would lift with your steps, and even though smoking indoors had been outlawed years ago, they still allowed it just to keep the patrons inside and guzzling.
People only went there if they were wasted and cut off elsewhere or needed a place to hide.
Usually, it was both. We went because we would get served underage—perks of being girls—but since hitting adulthood, we hadn’t set foot in the place, let alone near it.
“Jimmy’s is gross. Why would we go there?”
“Because I heard Andrew Cashman hangs out there after work sometimes.” I almost gagged as she wagged her eyebrows repeatedly.
Andrew Cashman was, as you probably guessed, Sarah Fucking Cashman’s hot older brother.
He and Kat used to be a thing for a while during our senior year when he was a sophomore in college.
She dumped him on his ass the second we graduated and booked it to L.A.
without even a goodbye. He never saw it coming, and because of it, she still had him wrapped around her pretty little finger like a baby to its bottle.
I had zero desire to be found anywhere near Jimmy’s, but again, Kat always got her way, so there was no point in arguing. Mocking, though? That was a must.
“Aren’t you some famous actress now? What do you want with some grime ball who still hangs out at Jimmy’s?” I joked as I grabbed my purse.
“I like nostalgia,” she shrugged, and I laughed as we walked out the door.
One hour and six tequila shots later, Kat did, in fact, have her tongue down Hot Older Cashman’s throat.
And she was happy as could be about it. I watched her from the other end of the bar, sipping my five-dollar Tequila Sunrise in utter amusement.
I was glad I ended our brief bender after only two shots and switched to a mixed drink, but I was feeling the buzz enough to start considering it was time to head home.
I thought about interrupting Kat’s tongue tango, but one look at them was enough to confirm she wouldn’t be leaving her trip down make-out memory lane any time soon.
I finished my drink and ordered a Michelob I didn’t need, just to remove the sweetness of the Sunrise.
I slugged the first sip back and was happy for the bubbling change of flavor—the one that felt more like home than sweet girl drinks with pretty colors ever would—and then I nearly choked as wide brown eyes caught mine from across the room. Stunned. Like they were seeing a ghost.
I froze in place. My heart raced, and my face grew hot.
I tried to blink E away, but my eyes wouldn’t move.
He was coming from the back room—the one that was dimly lit and housed the pool tables.
How long he’d been at the bar, I didn’t know.
But the room buzzed with his presence, and I felt shaky and numb as I tried to plan the quickest escape I could find.
In the next second, I placed my still-full beer down, threw a twenty on the bar, and made my way to the front door in what must have looked like a crooked walking sprint.
I made it out, seemingly unscathed, and beelined it to Mom’s car in the parking lot across the street. But when I couldn’t find the key that was already in my hand, I realized I was too buzzed to drive.
Which meant I’d have to call a cab.
And wait. Like a sitting duck.
It was barely a minute after my untimely defeat that I heard the door screech open behind me. I didn’t dare look back. I prayed it was someone else. Anyone but E. A stranger, God willing. But I’d have no such luck.
“Sydney!” he called out, his voice rich and deep and resonant.
I slammed my eyes shut, and my breath grew shallow immediately. Fuck.
FuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuckFuck.
“You come to town, and you don’t even tell me?!” He yelled into the dark lot as he made his way toward me.
He sounded annoyed. Frustrated. Angry. And drunk. And I knew all too well why.
Somewhere deep inside, I drummed up the courage to face him. Call it beer balls, or better yet, tequila testicles.
I turned around and half-yelled back. “I’m only here for the weekend. Didn’t think I’d have the time.”
He stopped right in front of me, and I could see the drunkenness in his stance. “So? You just gonna pop in and out and not even say hello?”
I took a shaky breath and tried to sound strong. “Yes. I’m clean now… so.”
His brows knitted together as he jerked his head back. “What the hell does that mean?”
I looked away and then back at him, trying my best to seem inconvenienced by our exchange rather than intimidated by it, full of a bleeding heart, like I truly was.
“It means I’m making better choices now. No more mistakes.”
His brows shot up, and his eyes widened. “Is that what it was?” He patronized as he took a step toward me. “A mistake?”
He hissed that last part, and I could feel his bitterness in every syllable.
He leaned in close, and I took a small step back, leaving my back against an empty pickup truck.
He brought his face inches from mine, the smell of beer and whiskey emanating from his breath.
His hands framed my face on either side as he towered over me.
His voice darkened, and my thighs clenched together at the sound of it.
“It didn’t feel like a mistake when your tongue was down my throat. It didn’t feel like a mistake when mine was all over you.”
I gritted my teeth and swallowed down the heat that was rising in me. I tried to forget the way his hands felt against me, powerful and demanding. The curve of his strong, defined chest under my fingertips. The feel of his warm, wet tongue over my breasts… But he saw right through me.
“Yeah,” he let out a snarky breath through his nostrils as he moved backward. “That’s what I thought.”
My breath shuddered as he moved his hands down to his sides. His expression softened then, and for the first time, I saw it—the hurt I had caused him when I disappeared.
“Why, Syd?”
I didn’t say a word. Too lost in my drunken mind that was swimming. Too sad in my broken heart to find words. Too swollen in the sea of lust I still felt and was trying hard to drown out.
“Answer me.” It wasn’t a request.
“I had to,” I croaked out, and my voice cracked. “I couldn’t risk—”
“Couldn’t risk what? Your relationship—your precious Jake?” He said it with such disgust; the saliva went sour in my mouth.
“You couldn’t risk him, but you could risk me?” His voice was rising, dripping with agony, and I could feel his pain in my bones. The betrayal.
“You bailed on me—”
“I didn’t mean to—” I tried to hold the tears back, but they were right there, a vice closing on my throat.