He stepped closer, not touching me, but close enough that he seemed to take up all the space. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I tried to pretend my voice wasn’t shaking, and hoped like fuck that Evan would pretend too. “Thank you for distracting me, it was just what I needed.”
“But now you’d like me to leave so we can go back to how it was before.” It wasn’t a question. It didn’t need to be.
“I think it’s for the best. I enjoyed it, but it was a one-time thing. That’s all it can be.”
He touched my face lightly. “Or it could be something more. We just have to be brave enough to try.”
I took a shaky step back. Evan’s hand hovered in mid-air for a moment before he let it fall dejectedly to his side.
“I’m not brave, Evan. I’m not an immortal shifter with the security of a clan behind me. I’m human, heart and all. It’s been broken by shifters too many times to risk it again. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he said bitterly, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Maybe this is fate’s way of punishing me.”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Forget it. It doesn’t matter.” He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. My stomach flipped at the memory of how it had felt against my fingers. “Are you going to be okay if I leave?”
I wondered for a split second why he was asking.
Then it all came screaming back.
Clyde is dead.
The Clarkson Clan isn’t going to take this lying down.
You still don’t know what they want with you.
I pressed a hand to my stomach where a knot had formed. “This isn’t going to go away, is it?”
Pity and sorrow flashed across his face. “No, sweetheart. I don’t think it will.”
This was all my fault. If I hadn’t moved here…If I hadn’t kept working for Chester after meeting Finn…If I’d gone on the run when Clyde first showed his face…
There were those what-ifs again. I never learned.And now the McCarthys were going to pay the price for my decisions. It would be them that the ire of the Clarksons would fall on.
“You shouldn’t have killed him,” I said hollowly. I could barely cope knowing a target had been put on the McCarthys, but if my old clan discovered Evan was the culprit… “I really wish you hadn’t.”
“Seriously?” I looked up to see Evan glaring at me. “After everything that just happened, that’s what you want to say to me?”
I ran back over the words in my head, trying to figure out how I’d upset him. This was one of the worst parts of being neurodivergent. Missed social cues meant I often offended others without meaning to.
I reached out to touch his arm. “No, Evan?—”
“Don’t,” he said harshly, stepping back and out of my reach. “I get it. You need a reason to hate me to put the distance back, and now you’ve got one. But know this: I don’t regret it, Reid. I’d kill the fucker all over again if I could, and I’ll sleep all the better knowing he can’t ever hurt you again.”
He was gone before I could respond, the echo of the door slamming the only evidence that he’d been there at all.
I slumped onto the sofa, dropping my head into my hands. I hadn’t wanted Evan to be the one to kill my dad because I wanted him to be safe. Of all the McCarthys, he was the one I wanted to protect the most.
But maybe it was better that Evan didn’t know that. It would only confuse things further.
This was for the best. He was right; I needed a reason to keep the lines between us clear.
And the death of my father was as good a reason as any.
Chapter 16
