Page 108 of Striking Range

A strangled, pleading noise leaves me, and Everett groans in response.

But we’re still in front of Angie’s, and the windows are quite large, so I pull away from him.

“Evie,” I pant out. “L-let’s go to the beach.”

Everett places one last soft, chaste kiss against my lips. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Whether it be here or in Tallahassee, I will never give this up. I will work to manage my anger and find a way to become a version of myself that Everett can call his equal.

I love him too much for there to be another option, and though he has not said it yet, I believe he loves me just as much.

We head toward the beach, and I watch the world around me as it exists just for us—to give us another moment, just like this one.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Everett Young

Finals are over, and graduation is the week after next. In less than two weeks, I will be a college grad, ready to move on with my life.

And though that is extremely exciting, it also means I have about two weeks before I come clean to Ash and Felicita. Before I lose my family.

I’m not too worried about money; I’ve been saving what little I get and plan to work a random gig after the fallout to save money for Sky and I’s move. But the emotional damage? The potential physical pain?

I am not ready.

But Skylar’s voice rings in my ears every time I think of my adoptive parents, and the expression of pity and sorrow I saw on his sweet face makes me feel… anger.

It makes a large part of me want to confess now. To stand up for myself and make Skylar proud of me. But I’ve waited this long, haven’t I? A couple of weeks won’t truly make a difference.

Plus, I have no idea what I’m walking into right now. Dad called me this morning, asking me to come by after classes. When I offered to bring Ashley, he declined.

I’m terrified that he’s going to push me; that he’ll give me some crazy family heirloom to propose to her with or something.

But whatever it is he has planned, I’m sure I can lie my way through it. And though it doesn’t feel good, and it feeds into that alter ego of mine that makes me crazy when someone else speaks to Skylar, it is necessary.

For just a bit longer, I will not be kind. I will be far from the good boy they have raised.

I pull into the driveway of my childhood home and park, taking a deep breath to center myself. Ash does not come to the front door as I walk up the steps, so I knock lightly and walk in, heading toward the sound of clinking dishes.

I find Ash at the dining room table, which leads me to assume it’s Felicita in the kitchen. He sits with his back straight, staring at the entryway with dead eyes.

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?” I greet him, stopping before the table.

I’ve grown accustomed to his kind smile and his gentle way of speaking to me, so as his eyes lift to meet mine with that cold glint, I nearly flinch.

And suddenly I’m back at Skylar’s apartment, and he’s telling me that these people are not my family. That if they were, I wouldn’t be scared of them; I wouldn’t have to earn their love.

“Sit, Everett,” Ash commands.

It feels as if Skylar is in the room with me, flashing warning signs with enthusiasm. He’s warning me that whatever is about to happen will not bode well for me, and that I don’t have to take it.

I’m positive this vision of him is my own self-consciousness, but it’s smart to imagine these thoughts as his. I’ll listen better this way.

‘Sure. Is everything alright?” I ask, sitting across from him.

I want to tell them. I want to call Felicita into this room and tell them that, even though I’m not too fond of all men, there is one that I love, that I want for the rest of my life, and they cannot stop me.

Maybe it was confessing the plan to Skylar, or maybe it was him agreeing to run away with me, but either way, I’m tired of holding this secret. I’m tired of hiding us when I’m so proud to be his.