“I just don’t. What have you been up to? I was starting to think you were finally losing interest in me when I hadn’t heard from you much.” I pullthe car into Rachel’s driveway, pick up my phone, and switch the call to video. Emmanuel’s face fills my screen. “Guess I’m not that lucky.”
“I’m not ever going to lose interest in you, mi alma,” he says. “You look fucking gorgeous. I thought you were going to your friend’s.”
“I am. I just got here,” I tell him.
“You know, if you tell me what happened, I can hunt your demons and erase them,” he says.
“Some demons can’t be killed, E,” I whisper. Emmanuel lowers his phone and something catches my eye. A bandage. “What the hell happened to your shoulder? And why are you naked?”
“I’m not naked. I have pants on, and I’m at the gym.” Emmanuel pans the camera to show me.
“What happened to your shoulder?” I repeat.
“Remember that game you told me to try out a while ago? Well, I gave it a go. Turns out, it’s not as fun as you made it sound.” He smirks.
He got shot? When? By who? What the hell! Why didn’t he say something sooner?I told him to try playing chicken with bullets. I was joking. I didn’t actually want him to get shot.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m a lot better now that I know you care enough to ask,” he says.
“Pfft, I don’t care. I just wantto know if I’m going to need a black dress for your funeral. I got a new line in, you know. I could pick something out tomorrow… or whenever I wake up.” I grin. We both know I’m full of shit. I do care. I just can’t admit it out loud.
“I told my artist about you,” Emmanuel hums, clearly changing the subject.
“Yeah? Did you get me an appointment?”
“Turns out he’s fond of his hands, so no. But he did do this.” Emmanuel holds up his wrist, and my name stares back at me in cursive writing.
“How many girls named Evie do you know?” I ask him.
“Just you,” he says.
“What the actual fuck, E? Why would you put my name on your skin. That shit is forever, idiot. Fucking hell, seriously, what were you thinking?” I yell.
I climb out of the car and start pacing up and down the length of Rachel’s front yard. Paz slides out of his own vehicle and stands a few feet away from me.
“I can’t believe you would do that. I knew you were insane but this! This is stupid on a whole new level!” I yell before pausing in my steps. “Show me again.”
Without a word, Emmanuel holds his wrist up tothe camera. “I am well aware of what things last forever. Are you?”
I turn to Paz and flash him my phone screen. “I told you he needed you there. Look what the idiot went and did! You can’t erase that.”
“Looks good, jefe,” Paz says.
“I know,” Emmanuel replies. “Evie, my body, my choice, right?”
“It’s not always a choice,” I whisper. “I have to go.” I cut the call, walk inside, and immediately plop onto Rachel’s sofa.
“You okay?” she asks. “Trouble in paradise?”
I tell Rachel all about Emmanuel and his weird infatuation with me, the onetime thing we did in the hospital, and all the messages and phone calls. She listens without judging and promises not to worry Charlotte with any of it.
“The man is seriously deranged, Rach. He got my name tattooed on his wrist,” I huff out.
“Oh yeah, he sounds like a real looney.” She laughs.
“It’s not funny!” I groan.
