I’m sleeping in his bed, legs tangled with his. There’s no way to explain this. Dread consumes me, one lick at a time, and my only relief is: What’s the worst she can do?
“I can’t believe it.” She meets Easton’s gaze, eyes low, tone so cold goose bumps rise on my arms. “And yet, I should have known.”
“Mom.” Easton’s voice is raspy, thick with sleep and desperation. “Don’t.”
Don’t?
Don’t what?
“Eva. Go to your room this instant and start packing your belongings.”
My stomach rolls. I can’t breathe. “My ... wh-what?”
“This week alone, I have been deceived by my husband, my housekeeper, and now, my son.” Despite her cold demeanor, a quiver in her voice betrays her. “Believe me when I say, you do not want to know what kind of mood I’m in. You heard me the first time.”
Bridget’s narrowed gaze lands on me, and the look plunges to my soul. She turns me inside out, reveals all the dirty, damaged, broken pieces Easton makes me blind to. Her unyielding gaze says it all:I see you, and this is all your fault.
Easton’s mouth touches my ear. “Go,” he whispers. “I’ll fix this.”
But his mother is right. And I don’t think he can fix it.
I nod anyway and peel the comforter back. Bridget’s lip curls in disgust when I walk by her wearing my cut-up top and panties. My hands shake as I pick my folded jeans up off Easton’s dresser. I look back at him beneath hooded lashes. He tries to give me a reassuring half-smile, but the unknown flares loudly behind whiskey. There’s only so much he can do, and we both know it.
I trudge toward my bedroom in a daze, feet weighed down by bricks. The outline of something small and hard pulls my attention to the jeans in my grip, and I check the back pocket. My shard of opal. Easton put it in my pocket. I swallow, my pulse quickening. Bridget’s scolding returns to my ears the same moment I reach my door.
“You knew the deal. You’ve brought this on yourself.”
Easton’s voice is quiet when he speaks, and I know it’s for my sake. “I know. I fucked up, okay? But this isn’t Eva’s fault. You can’t punish her for somethingIpursued.”
I rest my head on my closed door. Stupidtears. StupidEaston. He’s even honorable when he lies.
“Mom ... just ... think about what you’re doing. Please.” He pauses, a sigh filters through the hall, and I can picture him running both hands through his messy bedhead. “Eva didn’t know about our agreement. She had no clue what the consequences would be.”
Agreement? My brows furrow, and I wipe my cheek with my palm. Whatagreement?
“Good. It shouldn’t take knowing the consequences for someone to behave with a moral compass.”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Amoral compass?” Those two words are all it takes for him to snap. Anger punctuates each syllable with a rough, bitter edge, but it’s not enough to mask the heartache. “Amoral compassshould include staying sober, being aparent, and not sleeping around while you’re married. What are the consequences of that? Wait, I know this one: a bastard kid, a permanently high mom, and a husband who can’t stand being in his own house. Do you even know who my real father is?”
Silence.
It permeates the house, thick and heavy on my chest. I wonder how long Easton’s been burning to ask that question.
“Of course, I do.” Bridget’s tone wavers, decisive to uncertain, then back again. “But you—you’re trying to change the subject—”
“You steered us here just fine on your own.”
“Easton. I won’t pretend we don’t have things to discuss on that matter—”
“Wow.”
“But now is not the time. Eva will have one last day at Caspian Prep to say goodbye to her friends, assuming she has any. By tonight, she will be on a plane to California.”
California?My breath catches in my throat, panic freezing my veins. That’s on the opposite side of the country. Away from Easton. Away from Alejandro. I will truly have no one.
Numbness sets in, cold and distant, but I manage to force myself to turn the knob, opening my door. I don’t enter yet though.
“Mom.Listen to what I’m saying.” The rough plea beneath his demand bleeds through. “You aren’t sending her there. I won’t just stand by and watch.”
