“It’s none of your business,” Shep declared before Simon could say girlfriend.
A reply like that meant that Evie was, without a doubt, Shep’s girlfriend. Stunned, Simon slotted his hands in his pockets just so he didn’t stand statue-still. Indecision froze him. What was he supposed to do? Shep was a young man. At sixteen, it was normal for him to want to find a romantic partner, and Simon didn’t want to discourage him from forming natural, healthy bonds. But at the same time, young love could go disastrously wrong in so many ways. Broken hearts, broken promises, broken condoms… as much as Simon loved Parker, he didn’t want another baby to take care of—another brother with a child he hadn’t planned for.
Short of throwing condoms at Shep and hoping he had sense enough to use them, Simon wasn’t sure what to do.
What he did know was that he couldn’t walk away now. Even with the door broken, teenagers were teenagers. Simon had been one not all that long ago himself, and while he’d been too shy and socially awkward to satisfy his raging hormones, he knew what it was like to be in the midst of puberty.
“I, uh…” Simon traced the backs of his bottom teeth with his tongue, then drew a deep breath and let it out. “I’m just wondering if you guys wanted to come out to the living room. The bedrooms here are so small. We could sit and talk, and I could make you guys dinner, if you want.”
“Oh my god, really?” Evie beamed, her teeth too white and her smile too beautiful. Simon, who didn’t think of women sexually at all, was taken aback by how pretty she was. “You’d cook a whole dinner just for us? That’s so sweet.”
Simon returned her smile nervously. “Of course.”
“I thought we were going to do pizza,” Shep grumbled. While Evie seemed oblivious to Simon’s subtle manipulations, Shep wasn’t as easily fooled.
“Pizza would be fine. But we could do something else, too. Chicken? Maybe with a salad? I picked up this dry rub the other day from the, uh, the store, and it would be good to… to, you know, share it with a guest. We don’t do fancy family dinners as often as we should.” Eventually, if Simon could maintain his rambling, he’d either figure out how to navigate this strange new situation, or he’d annoy Shep so much that he’d drag Evie out of the bedroom just to get away from him. It was a win either way.
“Salad sounds better than pizza…” Evie glanced to Shep. “But I mean, if it’s a bother…”
“It’s not a bother.” Shep stood abruptly. “Evie, can you stay here for a sec? I’m going to talk dinner stuff with my brother in the other room, okay?”
“Yeah… sure.” She arched an eyebrow, but otherwise didn’t object. “I’ll be here whenever you get back.”
Awkward rambling had paid off. Simon backed into the hall as Shep approached, then, once he was sure Shep wasn’t going to pull a fast one and slam the broken bedroom door in a useless attempt to keep Simon out, he headed for the kitchen as instructed. Once they were through the doorway, Shep leaned against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. Simon pulled a chair out from the tiny table they infrequently ate meals at and folded himself into it, one leg tented to his chest. He wrapped his arms around it and rested his chin on his knee. “What’s going on, Shep?”
“Listen…” Shep glanced over his shoulder through the doorway leading to the hall. Immediately across from it was the entrance to the living room, and to the left was the front door. Simon got the impression that Shep was looking its way. “I know that what I did was a dick move. Like, a really big dick move. But… Evie was being followed, okay? So I’m sorry for what I did, but I couldn’t think of anything else to do other than rush her into the house. I didn’t want trouble, you know?”
“Followed?” Terror folded Simon’s stomach in half. That word bore a different meaning for their family now, and Shep wouldn’t have used it without meaning it, but still, Simon had to ask. “What do you mean byfollowed?You don’t mean that Bastian…”
“No, Bastian isn’t following her.” Shep shook his head. “He’s not following me, either. As far I know, he hasn’t been back since the last time. It’s just… there was the possibility that someone was following us, and I felt the need to get Evie inside as quickly as possible before it became an issue. I’ll go apologize quietly to Jayne and Parker, if that’s going to keep the peace, butpleasecan we wait until later to talk about this? Evie needs to rest. She’s so stressed and sad. I just wanna take care of her, that’s all. I’m sorry it caused a commotion.”
It was Simon’s turn to look toward the front door. They were on the fourth floor of the building, limiting points of entry down to two—the fire escape beyond Jayne’s bedroom window and the front door.
Two places to enter.
Two places to escape.
Simon’s heart plummeted into his stomach. If they needed to get out, then what? It was bad enough that they had to be careful about Bastian—to think that there was someone else out there, waiting, watching, lurking…
“How is she going to get home if someone is following her?” Simon asked. Even though Shep had promised that Bastian wasn’t involved, fear adhered to Simon’s insides like partially cured glue—tacky, unpleasant, and malleable. It slotted into the smallest spaces in his mind, bonding one irrational thought to the next. What if Bastianwassomehow involved? It had been almost a year and he still hadn’t given up. If that was the case, and he was starting to target not just Jayne, but Shep, and Shep’s friends, then…
Nausea struck. Bile rose up Simon’s throat. Nervously, he swallowed and tried to talk himself down from his fear. It was irrational to assume that Bastian was the root of all their problems. There were other horrible people in the world—people who’d follow a teenage girl home.
People who’d gladly make Simon’s life just as terrible as Bastian did.
Shep shrugged. “I figured that since it’s… you know… dangerous out there, that she could stay for a little while. A day or two. Maybe a week…”
“What?” Simon unfolded, planting both feet on the floor. “Shep, you didn’t ask if your friend could stay. You asked if you could have someone over. We aren’t prepared to—”
A yelp startled them both. Simon jumped out of his chair, but his knees buckled, and he stumbled, only barely latching onto the kitchen doorframe. Shep, who was still standing and much less clumsy, bolted from the kitchen and sprinted down the hall. Breath stuck in his lungs, body lead-like from fear, Simon flung himself around the doorway and lurched down the hall, keeping a hand on the wall for support. It felt like the bones in his legs would snap—panic had turned them brittle, like it had sucked the marrow from inside of him and left him a dried husk.
The man after Evie, whoever he was, had to have broken through Jayne’s window. He’d snatch up Jayne, and Evie, and baby Parker, and spirit them away to do whatever malicious things men who stalked teenage girls would do. And if Simon didn’t stop him, didn’t figure out a way to stand up to someone who was, beyond a doubt, physically stronger than he could ever be, he’d come back to take Shep. And then, when Simon was alone and vulnerable, he’d—
Simon’s brain processed what his eyes saw down the hall. He came to a stop, leaning heavily against the wall for support. There was no stranger in the apartment ready to snatch up his family. In fact, there was no danger at all.
Jayne, who held Parker to his chest, stood in the doorway to Shep’s bedroom, unharmed. His eyes were widened in surprise. Shep had come to a stop halfway down the hall, his back to Simon. He wove his fingers through his hair like a man who’d just realized he’d lost everything.
But what did Shep have to lose?
