by Maegan Abel
The threat of it, especially when I could see she wasn’t going to follow through, was like fanning the flames. I spoke again, too far gone to worry about the repercussions. “Then do it. You know, if you’re so fucking jaded by this life that you’d use my goddamn emotions to manipulate me for a fucking prank, then maybe I want out this time too.”
“Stop.” Cara’s voice drew our attention and we both looked to the doorway. Her brow was furrowed in irritation as she stared at me. “I know you don’t mean that. What happened to what you said at lunch about how much you love the fire and passion this Evie has? You said you wanted more than anything to break through to her and it would all be worth it.”
She was right and it pierced straight through me. I did love this Evie and I’d said as much not two minutes ago. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. “I meant that when I said it. But this Evie feels like she’s doing nothing but stringing me along for her own entertainment now.” I looked over at Evie and met her eyes. “This isn’t a game to me.”
Before either of them could break me down further, I spun and walked out the front door, slamming it behind me.
I stood staring at the closed door for one beat. Then another. My heart hammered in my chest as his words echoed inside my head. I was so pissed off, but at the same time, him walking out, ready to give up, terrified me. It was a perfect contradiction, just like everything else about this fucking mess.
“What are you doing, Evie?” Cara asked, and I looked from the door to her. I scowled, opening my mouth to ask how the hell I was at fault in this when he was the one so pissed off over a damn joke, but she continued before I had a chance. “You have a window of time here to fix this before it ends up in a place I can’t imagine even you can pull it back from. He loves you. That isn’t something you should just toss aside because you’re scared.”
“I’m not scared,” I snapped, lying through my teeth. I was pretty sure Cara could hear my heart straining toward wherever the hell Gavin disappeared to, though I continued shoving the emotions down.
“Bullshit. You’re so afraid of letting yourself be happy, you’re pushing away something that could be better than you can imagine.” She was far too close to the truth.
“How would you know? You’ve already managed to run yours off before you two even got started!” Her flinch hit me like a blow and I shoved the anger aside. “I didn’t mean that, Car—”
She closed her eyes as a tear hit her cheek. That was worse than the flinch, a hard jab right to the same wound. I started to move toward her, but her eyes flew open and she threw up a hand to stop me. “No. You know what?” She straightened herself on her crutches and headed back to the living room. “Screw you, Evie.”
“Cara,” I called, letting out a frustrated growl as I ran my fingers through my hair, holding it back from my face. I was apparently on a roll tonight.
Dropping my hands, I glanced between where Cara had disappeared and the door. Cara would be easier to deal with at the moment, but she wasn’t going anywhere. I didn’t do the whole chasing a guy down the street and begging him to listen to me thing, but I hadn’t heard Gavin’s car leave, so I stomped to the door and threw it open. I froze when I saw his back, forearms pressed against the railing of the porch right across from me as he looked out at the trees. I didn’t say anything and neither did he as I closed the door and moved to stand beside him. The silence was heavy, making it hard to breathe, but I couldn’t decide what I was supposed to say. A part of me knew I should apologize for my part in this, but at the same time, I wasn’t the only one at fault.
“You have quite the self-destruct button,” he finally said, looking at his hands as if he was speaking to them.
“Yeah,” I answered, clearing my throat as my voice broke a little on the word. Why did it hurt so much when he was critical of me? “Yeah, I guess I do.”
“Dom will come back to her, you know. He just needs time to cool off,” he said quietly. There was a hard edge to the words, but I didn’t know whether it was because of our fight or what I said to Cara.
“Oh, and I suppose she’s just supposed to forgive the fact that he acted like a complete fucktard? All because of ‘Infinity’.” I threw up air quotes around the word in question. “He left her in a hospital bed, walked out, and cut off communication with her when she begged him to stay. Who does that?”
Gavin pushed to stand, his full height a little intimidating when he was staring at me with that much anger. “Do you really want to get into a discussion about the asshole things people do to those who love them?” I swear to God, I could see his voice vibrating through the air between us. He was that angry.
I didn’t care. I was pissed off, too. Was he seriously pulling this back around to us? He was the one being a dick about something as stupid as a prank. “He needs to leave her alone. She’s better off without all of this curse nonsense.” The second the words left my mouth, I took a step back. They stole my anger as I got lost in confusion. Where had that even come from?
Gavin dropped his head, making a frustrated sound I already knew all too well. “I wasn’t even close.”
“What?” I asked, thrown completely off guard by his statement, my mind still jumbled.
“I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought. I was nowhere near breaking through to you. That’s the point. You said you would try, but you won’t. Hell, maybe you can’t.” He shook his head, turning back to face the woods. I felt the angry air surrounding him dissipate some as his shoulders slumped and he leaned back on the railing with his forearms, his posture showing his defeat. I didn’t like it. Anger was fine. Anger I could handle. But this? I hated seeing that expression on his face, feeling his despondence, but it was worse knowing it was about me. Again. For probably the millionth time, I thought, what did I just do?
“Go inside, Evangelie.” The empty voice was back and a chill slipped straight up my spine, causing me to shiver, regardless of the hot summer air around us.
“No, I—”
“Can you please, for once, just do what I ask without turning it into a fight?” he snapped, his head whipping toward me. “I need you to leave me alone right now.” It came out slow, stilted by all the emotions flickering over his face. “Will you please just go inside?”
“Okay,” I said, taking a step back. It didn’t feel like enough and the tiny part of me that wanted to apologize was now screaming at me to do so. I opened my mouth, but he cut me off quickly.
“Don’t do it. Just don’t. Don’t piss me off further. Go.” His expression matched his tone and I took another step back, torn but unable to push further.
“Okay,” I repeated on a whisper, nodding as I rushed to escape to the safety of the house.
I made spaghetti because it was the first thing I found in Gavin’s kitchen. I focused all my attention on the task. Or, I tried. But let’s face it, the fact that Gavin was standing outside on the porch still pissed off was a total distraction. So, when I wasn’t focused on cooking, I was thinking about everything that was said. And that left me confused.
I had no idea what he meant when he said I manipulated his emotions. That was just utter bullshit. I’d told him from the start I didn’t want any part of this, so why the hell was he acting like this was some big shock to him? I knew the answer to that. I’d said I would try just a few days ago, and here I was, already pushing him away again. I leaned against the counter, my thoughts heavy. Could I even do this? Did I really even want to try?
Cara came in and I watched her pull out a bottle of water from the refrigerator as she popped a pill in her mouth.
“It’s not time for another pain pill yet, is it?” I asked, checking the clock on the stove.
“Close enough. I’m ready for bed,” she said shortly, recapping the bottle after swallowing and sticking it in her waistband as she grabbed the crutches.
“Aren’t you going to eat anything? It’s not good to take those on an empty stomach,” I hedged. I needed to make something
right.
She turned, her face hard, and shook her head. “Nope. I’m fine.”
I watched her leave, feeling the emptiness and quiet around me closing in. I heard Gavin’s voice in my head talking about my self-destruct button and something burned painfully in my chest. Goddammit. No matter how hard I tried to be bulletproof, Cara was always my weak spot. Now, Gavin was worming his way in too.
“Well, fuck them both then,” I mumbled, snatching a plate from the cabinet and piling on more spaghetti than I could possibly eat. I scrounged in Gavin’s kitchen, not finding any alcohol aside from a few beers in the fridge. I wanted something stronger than beer, but anything was better than nothing at this point, so I grabbed one and sat down at the table.
I took my time eating, not wanting to admit it, but I had my eyes on the door the majority of the time, waiting for him to come inside.
He didn’t.
I got up and washed my plate, still waiting. Nothing. I cleaned the rest of the kitchen and put away the monstrous amount of leftovers. And more nothing. I glanced at the clock and noticed how late it was, wondering if I should check on Gavin, but worried I’d just piss him off even more. Instead, I sat back down at the table with another beer, sipping and waiting.
The house was dark and it was well after midnight when the door opened. Stitch had migrated into the kitchen to be closer to me after Cara went to bed and his head popped up. The movement caught Gavin’s attention and he glanced over. Spotting me at the table, he didn’t hide his shock. He shut the door quietly and put out a hand to rub Stitch’s head as he ambled over to greet him.
“Hey,” I said softly, not sure what else to say. I really needed him to stop staring at me like my presence alone was both shocking and painful at the same time.
“Hey.” His voice sounded rough and he looked away, planning his escape to the bedroom.
“I made spaghetti. Are you hungry?” I asked, hating that I sounded desperate, but I was. I needed him to give me a chance to make this right. The last several hours of silence had made me crazy, delirious maybe, but I didn’t care. He paused and glanced back over at me, giving me an opening and I jumped headfirst into it. “You didn’t have French bread, so I couldn’t make my famous cheesy garlic bread, but I can make you some toast to go with it if you want?” Garlic bread. Apparently, that was my big break. Idiot. It seriously took everything in me not to face-palm at myself.
He rubbed his hands over his face, letting out a heavy breath. I swear, the indecision was clear in every line of his body and I held myself perfectly still while I waited for him to tip to one side or the other. He finally turned toward the kitchen. “Okay.”
I jumped up, practically knocking the chair aside in my rush, and started gathering things. Pulling out a plate, I reheated a heavy portion of the spaghetti. He grabbed a beer and headed to the table, sitting in the chair opposite from where I’d been. Stitch moved to the corner of the room and curled up, keeping an eye on both of us. Every time my gaze slid over to Gavin, he was staring down at the table. Well, glaring was more like it. I could still feel the horrible tension and it was eating at me now. I thought about talking, even opened my mouth to say something a few times while waiting on the microwave and talked myself out of it every time. But as the silence stretched on, I started feeling the irritation bubbling. Why was this so uncomfortable? I’d tried before and he sent me away, now wasn’t it his turn to apologize?
I carried the plate to the table and set it in front of him, pausing as I debated on whether to sit with him and hope he would talk or leave him alone to eat.
“Thanks,” he said, taking another swig of his beer. I turned, deciding it was best to leave him to eat while I got ready for bed. I heard the squeal of the chair legs against tile and glanced over. He’d nudged out the chair beside him and nodded to it. I gave him a small smile and moved to sit, pulling my beer closer as I picked at the label. “This is really good.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, biting my lip. This was exactly why I hated the whole concept of relationships. What the hell was I supposed to do when everything was teetering in the balance this way? What was the right decision? Talk and risk making it worse or sit in this awful silence and wait for everything to explode? I didn’t even know whether I was pissed off anymore or just freaking out because I was scared he was mad. Or both.
Probably both.
“I’ll take the couch so you can get some sleep,” he said eventually, his voice making me jump slightly. It had been quiet for so long, the awkwardness had worn away and I’d actually started feeling tired. I looked up at him, shocked as his words registered.
“That’s ridiculous. This is—”
“I’m not arguing, I’m telling you. I’m on the couch, you take the bed,” he said, his tone firm.
“I can go sleep in the room with Cara if it’s a problem,” I said softly. Rejection had the back of my throat burning and I clenched my jaw, anger bubbling up automatically to cover the pain, but I just swallowed it, pushing out from the table in hopes of making a quick escape.
“Cara needs room to prop up that leg and you know it. Plus, I’m guessing she’s still pretty pissed at you.”
I looked over at him, catching his eyes on me. His tone was just a tiny bit softer, as were his eyes. I ventured out onto the teetering branch that was my pride. “What about you? Are you still pissed at me?”
He stared at me for a moment, then pushed the plate toward the middle of the table, took his beer in his fist, and crossed his forearms in front of him. “Yeah. I’m still pretty pissed at you.”
I had no idea how heavy disappointment was until it was making my fall that much faster. Pride be damned, I would just have to learn to live without my heart because that was already his.
Fucking fuck.
I was so totally screwed.
“What if I said I was sorry? And really meant it?” I asked. Uncomfortable under his steady gaze, I looked away, dropping my eyes to the table.
“Do you even know what you’re apologizing for?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow, and if I weren’t mistaken, I could almost see the tiny tilt of just the corner of his lip. Maybe I was getting through.
“I handcuffed you to the bed?” It came out as a question because there had to be more to it, but I had no idea what that more might be. His annoyance started to return and I bit my lip, giving a small shrug as my eyes pleaded for him to give me a hint.
He sighed and shook his head. “I don’t care that you cuffed me to the bed. Honestly, it was an ingenious way to get your point across about feeling trapped, and I would’ve laughed about it, but…” He looked at me, then away, taking a drink from his beer before continuing. “You said, ‘I can’t believe I didn’t give in sooner’.” He swallowed. “You said you were mine. You let me think you were actually giving in and you used what you knew were very real feelings on my part for your joke,” he spat the last word.
I thought back through the morning, trying to remember if I said that or why. “I don’t even remember saying it.”
“Well, I do. Believe it or not, those words were important to me.” The pain drew lines in his features as his face pulled tight. It told me just how much he meant that.
“I know they are. And I am sorry. I didn’t mean…” I stopped when his eyes narrowed and changed my word choice. “I wasn’t thinking. Obviously. I didn’t say it to hurt you.” I bit my lip. There was more I wanted to say, but my heart was trying to climb out of my throat at the moment, my fear getting the better of me. But I meant the words and he needed to know that. I was his. I swallowed, trying to take another leap, but I didn’t get the chance before he thoroughly shredded me.
“That doesn’t make it any better. In fact, that might be worse. Instead of being the kind of bitch who would intentionally throw my feelings in my face, you’re the kind of bitch whose default is set to the level that you’d do it without even thinking.”
I stared, pulling in my lips to keep myself from crying out or sc
reaming as the pain seared through me. The fact that he even thought that proved what an idiot I was. Here I thought I was trying, but it wasn’t enough. Or I wasn’t enough. Whatever. It was all the same in the end. Pushing up from the table, I grabbed his plate and moved to wash it and put away the leftovers again. I needed to keep busy and I was hoping he would leave me alone, but I didn’t hear any movement from him. When I was done, I turned to face him.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to beg him to look at me, really look at me, and tell me how to let him in the way he wanted. I just wasn’t enough, even though I tried. And that killed.
“I’m the kind of bitch who is usually proud of that title. I’m the kind of bitch who wears that title like fucking armor.” My voice wobbled and it pissed me off. His expression didn’t change and that just hurt more. How could he bring me to the brink of breaking and not even care? “I’m the kind of bitch who is just barely not bitch enough to pretend that it doesn’t bother me that you see me as a bitch.”
He pushed up, coming to stand right in front of me again, and I did everything in my power not to run away from him and the damage he could cause. This was only the beginning of what Infinity could do and I knew that, but I wasn’t sure I could stop it now. His hand lifted, almost like he was going to touch me, but at the last second, he raked his fingers through his own hair instead. “You’re trying to protect yourself from the wrong things, Evie. You’re guarding yourself on the wrong side and I’m afraid—no, I’m actually fucking terrified that by the time you open your eyes and see that, it’s going to be too late.”
