“Tay . . .” My voice comes out a gravelly whisper. I clear my throat and try again. “Taya. How’d, uh, you sleep?”
“I imagine same as you. Not good. But I found your coffee. Want some?”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. The last twelve hours have me clinging to my sanity with a death grip.
“Still black?” she asks from the kitchen.
“Uh . . .” I clear my throat again. “Yeah, thanks.” I can’t get my bearings. I stand, stretch once and walk the ten steps to the bathroom to take a piss. Inside the guest bath off the hallway, I splash cold water on my face and rinse my mouth in place of brushing my teeth. I’m a zombie going through these motions. I’m afraid to think about things too much, that it might break me. Again. But one thought won’t stay down.Ever!
Throwing the door open, I stalk to the couch and retrieve my phone from the coffee table. Sliding it open, I scroll my texts until I get to Lilly.
Me:I’m sorry to put you in a weird spot, but is Everly with you?
I see the bubbles pop up immediately and wait. Then they disappear. I drop the phone onto the wood surface with a thud.
Taya moves into my periphery and extends a steaming mug to me. “Did you find her?” She sits down in the chair to the left of the couch and sets her mug on the table just as my phone buzzes.
Shaking my head in answer, I snag it off the surface and set the mug in its place.
Lilly:Yeah she showed up last night to spend the weekend. I got her. Don’t worry.
My exhale is shaky. I sink to the couch and hastily type “thank you” in reply and drop the phone next to me on the cushion. With my elbows propped on my knees, I press the heels of my hands to my eye sockets and wait for the pressure building there to subside. I blow a couple deep breaths out through puffed cheeks and dropping myhands, I say, “She’s with her best friend, Lilly.” I don’t meet her gaze but see her nodding in response.
“Will you go to her?” Taya is leaning all the way back in the chair, looking all kinds of relaxed. I know that can’t be true. After everything we both discovered last night, there’s no way. I’ve spent three years learning to channel my anger and sadness in a better way, and I’m barely hanging on. My knee is bouncing my elbow. My knuckles are white holding the mug of coffee. It’s burning my palm, but I don’t care. “I don’t know. I don’t think so.” I look at her squarely now. “Lilly said she’s visiting for the weekend. Maybe she didn’t tell her anything. Maybe she’s coming back in a couple days. Fuck. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. With any of this.”
“I know, Jay. Me either. I’m sorry I just showed up like that. When I found out . . . when I saw my dad’s files—he kept tabs on you—I kinda lost it. Just got in my car and came here. To the address he had written down.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I say the words robotically. Then I hear Ever’s words in my head.You fucking lied?I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. “I’m not sorry he’s gone,” I add. “Honestly, I might’ve killed him myself if he weren’t already dead.”
Her eyes fill as she slowly nods. “I know. God, Jay, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like for you. I thought . . . He said you took money. That he paid you to leave. That if I tried to find you, he’d have you arrested. For rape.”
“I know. I remember it all from last night. Can we not relive it? Especially the part where you didn’t come find me after you turned eighteen. When he didn’t have a say.”
“You know the statute of limitations in California extends till I turn forty, right?” Her sass takes me back, haunts me, and reminds me of the sassy girl with gray eyes that’s crushing my soul right now, making it hard to breathe.My girl.“But I did try, Jay.”
Her voice brings my eyes back to her face. Yanks me out of my head and the storm-cloud eyes I see there.
“Your phone went straight to voicemail. Texts didn’t deliver. No social media. You became a ghost.”
“I crashed my bike the night he told me you died. Smashed my phone, my head and a few ribs. Jayce Keller sort of died that night too. Started going by my middle name and my mom’s maiden name. So he’d leave me alone.”
She’s nodding again. Her eyes are sad, but at least the tears are gone.
“Actually, that’s a lie. It wasn’t conscious or calculated. It just came out. Julian. When Allie—my business partner—asked my name the night I crashed.”
More nodding. “Wow, Jay. Business partner. It’s incredible what you’ve built for yourself.” She’s smiling now, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s a sad smile that pulls at my heart.
I involuntarily start rubbing the spot on my chest.
I don’t acknowledge the compliment and rudely ask instead, “What will you do now?” Part of me asks because I want her to go away so I can pretend my life didn’t just burn to the ground with her reappearance. Part of me wants to help her make sense of the bomb that dropped on us both.
She spreads her hands wide and shakes her head, then she rakes her fingers through her blonde hair, the gesture so familiar I watch as if in slow motion. Her being here in my old apartment close enoughto touch, smell, is fucking with me. It’s playing with my mind and my memories. Every tug on my heartstrings is superimposed with an image of my life with Ever.Ever!
I’m thanking whatever superpower that’s in charge that I didn’t text or call Via. If Ever wants to tell her sister anything, that’s up to her. I know Lilly is loyal to Ever and will take care of her at least. Via would likely involve their mom and maybe Allie. I have nothing to hide. I just don’t know what Ever’s thinking and I don’t want to have to explain this to everyone we know. Hell, I don’t want to explain it to myself. This is beyond insane. And maybe that’s the crux of it all. Rusty Bennick was certifiable. Controlled everyone around him with his power and money.
“Part of me wants to burn it all down. Literally set fire to the whole goddamn house. I really didn’t know the depths of his twisted control. Through the lens of a kid, it came off like he was just an overprotective, over-religious father of an only daughter. What an asshole.” Her laugh is humorless.
I laugh despite the heavy topic. “That he was.”
