Evie's Knight

by Kimberly Krey

  “She was wasted, Cal,” Parker said.

  Calvin shot a look at him, surprised. It wasn’t like her. “Are you sure?” He couldn’t even picture it.

  “Positive. I know Vodka when I smell it. She’s in bad shape, Cal. That’s what I’m trying to tell you.

  “It was my fault, though,” Parker continued. “I knew she wanted you, but … I don’t know, I just took advantage of her.”

  Parker’s confession took Calvin by surprise. It seemed like information he’d normally take to the grave.

  “Cal, she was a total mess. I never should have done it.”

  Calvin released him altogether, allowing Parker to stand up while he worked to contain the ill thoughts in his head. They were running rampant; pressing past boundaries he had no desire to explore. The tense tips of his fingers raked through his hair and over his heated scalp. He was sick. Nauseous at the fact that the woman he loved was a stranger to him now, and he was the reason for it. What other out-of-character avenues had Evie explored since he left her that day?

  His thoughts returned to Parker’s betrayal. “Why?” His voice sounded hoarse, almost defeated. “Why would you do that, Parker? Do you have any idea what hearing this does to me?”

  It was quiet until, without notice, Calvin felt the rage spill back into his blood. “Do you, Parker?” The sound of his cry echoed in the still night.

  Silence.

  This was just like his older brother. Typical Parker behavior. Why should he let him get away with it this time? Calvin was tired of playing the tame and mature one. Why not settle this with a good old fashioned brawl–Parker style? Try speaking to him in his own language.

  “Answer me.” Calvin gave his shoulder a satisfying shove. He pushed him again, surprised at how good it felt. Without another thought, he wound his arm back and struck him.

  Parker’s face flew back beneath his fist. Once, twice. He drew his arm back to take another swing, but wavered. Parker wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t trying to stop him, either.

  “C’mon,” Calvin said, hoping to light a flame beneath him. “Fight back, Parker. Let’s have it out.” He took another swing at him, nearly regretting the action before he was through.

  Calvin stepped back, eyeing the fresh split in Parker’s lip. The red, blotchy ring around his eye that would soon darken to shades of purple and blue.

  As Parker looked down, shook his head, Calvin felt a strange new level of disappointment creep in. Hitting Parker hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as he’d imagined. And fighting a man in surrender was no fun at all.

  “Parker, you’ve known how badly I’ve wanted to be with Evie this whole time. It’s been torture for me. And you just creep behind my back…” he stopped there, swallowed the dryness away in his throat. Parker had no clue what it was like. “You don’t… you’ve never loved anyone the way I love her.”

  “You’re right. And nobody has ever loved me that way either.” It was quiet for a moment. “I was jealous, Calvin, and resentful. Couldn’t you tell? Haven’t you noticed?”

  “No, I haven’t noticed. What the hell are you jealous of?”

  “The way she loves you,” Parker shot back. “Dude, she’s so crazy about you that breaking it off with her didn’t put an end to it. She still loves you. No one like her would ever love me.”

  “You don’t deserve that kind of love, Parker. You’re not even capable of returning it.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Parker flicked his head, tossing his blond hair away from his face. “I just wanted to see what it felt like. But I messed up. I’m sorry.” He looked at him from under his lowered brows, ashamed, penitent.

  Through slow and steady breaths, Calvin pictured a reunion with Evie, imagined what it would be like to have her back in his life, in his arms.

  “You know what she did?” Parker said, distracting him.

  Calvin looked up, anxious to hear it.

  “She pushed me away. Told me she was broken.”

  Calvin cringed as he forced out a gust of air. Stung by the sheer image of Evie suffering, acting out while trying to pick up the pieces.

  “Said she was broken, and messing around with me wasn’t going to fix it,” Parker added, tonguing the split in his lower lip.

  Calvin sunk his teeth into his knuckle, fighting the puddles that welled in his eyes. He repeated the single word in his head–broken, broken–haunted by the image, the ache that accompanied it.

  A sudden need overcame him, an urgency to have her near. “Well what the hell am I supposed to do?” he asked. “Either I break her heart or I risk her life. I can’t win. Tell me what I’m supposed to do.”

  Parker raised his voice to match. “You’re supposed to get her back, like I said. To just … trust that we’re going to be able to fight it.”

  “With her life? Put Evie’s fate in our hands alone?”

  “It’s already done, Calvin. Why can’t you see that? Fiona thinks we can beat it. Have a little faith. Besides, you don’t have a choice now.”

  Calvin studied Parker, surprised he was finally acting like an older brother. Have a little faith? “Since when do you have faith in anything?”

  When no response came, Calvin closed his eyes and replayed their conversation in his head. A phantom image of Evie seeped into his mind, soft, warm and incredibly welcome. For the first time since he left her, Calvin felt his resistance beginning to crumble.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  The sheets in Evie’s bed felt like sandpaper. Thoughts of Calvin and his stupid, new girlfriend pushed every nerve from inside her body to the outer surface of her skin. Of all the reasons to leave her, she hadn’t considered that one–another girl. One he’d met while they were dating, no less. Evie had held Calvin in a much higher caliber than that; it was almost impossible for her to imagine.

  After a swift kick to her covers, she sat up in bed and scooted back to the headboard. Folding her arms across her chest, Evie looked over the skirt she hadn’t bothered removing, knowing she should have stripped off her clothes before crawling into bed. Her night with Tawny and Kelly had been ridiculous. She didn’t like dressing up, going to raves, or hanging out with girls who impaired themselves–on purpose. There’d been a reason Kelly had stopped spending time with her, hadn’t there? Kelly had wanted to do things Evie hadn’t liked doing.

  An idea kindled in her head like the flash of a sparkler, yet just as she tried to grasp it, the fleeting thought fizzled out. What had she been thinking about? Kelly doing other things. Becoming friends with Tawny so she could–the idea flickered back to life like a full out flame–wild and dangerous in her head. Calvin found a new girl because he wanted to do other things. Things she didn’t plan on doing. Sure, he might have still liked her, like Kelly. But he had other things in mind.

  “That jerk!” Evie scurried off her bed and grabbed the pumps she’d kicked onto the floor, glad she was still dressed. Nothing was going to slow her down. It was time to confront Calvin Knight. Tell him that, though it’d taken an embarrassingly long amount of time, she’d figured out exactly why he left her.

  The air in Evie’s car lay thick with intention–a purpose so pressing there’d be no place for serenity. Not until she carried this through. Forcing the pedal to the floor, she sped out of the driveway, pushing her reluctant car to its limit, not caring if she woke up her dad. After turning onto the main street, she pulled up behind a slow-moving bus.

  “Nope.” She jerked the wheel to the left, glancing over as she passed the brightly lit bus. She cut back into the right lane, her heart racing to match the speed. Her mind raced as well–sifted through memories of the way things had changed between them since Calvin helped Parker at the bar. She felt foolish. “A girlfriend?” Her grip tightened on the wheel. “How had I missed that?”

  She spent the first mile angry with herself for not seeing it, for not even suspecting it. By the second mile, she switched gears, remembering how desperately she’d tried to explain things
after he left her. She’d even tried to blame that crazed woman from the drawing, that whole story about the Knights and some mystical curse. She’d told herself that perhaps he was only trying to protect her from some myth his grandfather used to warn him about. How pathetic.

  “A motorcycle?” she spat next. “You’ve got to be kidding. Some butch on a bike–that’s who he dumps me for?” She pictured the monstrous girl from art. How could Calvin possibly like someone like her?

  With a familiar sting, Evie thought back on the way he’d kissed her the last time. His kiss had said it all. That he loved her still. Obviously that wasn’t enough.

  She’d never forgotten Tyler’s cruel words: Time to grow up a little. Don’t you think, Evie? The words bit at her as they swirled through her head, spiteful and ugly. She pictured them coming from Calvin’s mouth next: This is how people show love for each other, Evie. Why had he acted like waiting was good with him too?

  The loud beat of the stereo thumped in her chest. The industrial song matched her mood, accompanied her like a faithful friend–motivated her for the confrontation ahead.

  She mindfully rehearsed a few choice words, letting them spill across her tongue. “Weak and pathetic!” She barreled around the corner. “Call yourself a man?” Her tires shrilled across the gravel while her pulse pushed some sort of poisonous rage through her body. She felt electric with its current, knew just how to use it.

  In full speed, she approached the city. The street was a black blur with random streams of yellow light that dragged across the sleek surface of her windows. She turned off the main street early to avoid the stoplights, winding her way recklessly through the quiet neighborhood.

  A nervous sort of panic took over as Evie pulled onto his street. Parker’s Cherokee was parked behind Calvin’s Jeep. Two dark shadows loomed beside it. The headlight’s beam gave them away as she pulled up to the curb. Calvin and Parker.

  What were they doing out front? It was past one o’clock.

  Calvin glared in her direction, running a hand through his dark, wavy hair. She killed the headlights, but not before noticing the flushed appearance of Calvin’s face. The redness around his eyes. Something was wrong.

  Who cared? Evie had come with a purpose, and she was in no mood for a detour.

  Climbing out of the car, she envisioned herself slamming both hands on Calvin’s chest, shoving him with all her strength, demanding an explanation–the truth–that he was a weak, selfish cheat. That he’d dumped her for a girl who would put out.

  She stopped just a few feet from him, felt a trace of momentum slip away as she took in the strange look of sadness on his handsome face.

  Nope. She wouldn’t back down. Her chest rose and fell with each labored breath as the gap closed between them. When she opened her mouth to speak, the look in Calvin’s eyes silenced her. The word longing came to mind.

  She dismissed it. “Couldn’t just tell me the truth, could you?” She shoved him in the chest, high with satisfaction. “Where’s your new girlfriend, Calvin, huh?”

  He stood there, unmoving, unrepentant.

  “You didn’t think I’d ever find out, did you? About your stupid butchy girlfriend. The one who rides a Harley?”

  Enlightenment flashed across his face.

  “She probably does more than that.” Evie chuckled. “I bet that’s why you dumped me.”

  The illumination from the streetlamp cast an eerie glow across his face. His eyes narrowed, lips tightening into a hardened line. “Evie, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” He reached out for her, but she smacked his arm away.

  “Sure I do. You just don’t want me to know. But I can’t figure out why. I don’t see what difference it makes to you. Why didn’t you just tell me that you were dumping me because I wouldn’t put out? Why don’t you just say it now?”

  He frowned. “Because it isn’t true, Evie,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “You’re a liar!” She shoved his shoulder again. “Just admit that you’re no better than Tyler.”

  Fire flared up in his eyes. “Tyler?” he spat as if it were a vulgar word. “Evie, you and I both know I’m nothing like your ex–”

  “Oh, do we? You and I both? No. I don’t know that. In fact, I think you’re exactly like him.” She became distracted when his gaze shifted to search over her face, her body, and her clenched fists.

  He stepped forward, reached out to her, but Evie put her hands up. “Don’t,” she warned.

  He walked toward her until her hands pressed against his firm and unyielding chest. When he pulled in a breath, the muscular contours rippled beneath her palms. Holding her gaze, Calvin grasped her wrists, the look of torment trapped beneath his dark, penetrating gaze.

  The sudden stillness of her body conflicted with the mounting rage inside. The adrenalin in her frame searched wildly for an outlet. Her heart pounded into madness.

  “Evie.” His voice came out in a husky whisper. “I want you to come inside.”

  “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” She tried to yank her arms away, but he held firm. “Let go of me,” she said, wondering why her resolve was weakening.

  “We need to talk.” His low voice held a level of strained tension. “Please.” He let go of her wrists, looked at her expectantly.

  Who did he think he was? Did he think he could simply woo her with the alluring sound of his masculine voice? “I don’t want to talk to you anymore. I’m done.” She turned her shoulder on him, but he grabbed her arm and stepped closer.

  “Well I haven’t even started,” he growled. “You came here for answers, so you may as well get the truth of it. You’re way off base.” He slid his hand down her arm, linked his fingers in hers. “Come on.”

  Though she secretly thrilled at the feel of his hand in hers, she tugged away, not willing to give in. Nowhere near ready to cool off. She followed him down the darkened stairwell and into his room, where the golden lamplight took them from cool shades of grey, to warm, honeyed tones of light.

  Once she stepped into the room, Calvin turned around and closed the door behind her, letting his arm slide across her waist. While one hand lingered on the doorknob, he brought the other hand up, braced himself against the door, trapping her. His bold closeness took her off-guard, and she backed up a bit, before planting her feet in place. She let her upper body drop back to where she leaned against the door behind her, feeling off balance.

  She heard the rustling of the doorknob, and looked down to see Calvin secure the lock on the door.

  Her heart skipped.

  His mood had altered. Shifted into something she couldn’t quite place. The topaz color in the room played up his caramel skin and rich brown eyes in a way that seemed almost cruel.

  Never before had Evie seen such ache–such desire–so prevalent on his face. She recalled her recurring dream then–the one where Calvin returned, wanting her back, needing her in his life–and wondered briefly if it was about to come true.

  “Evie, I swear to you, there’s no one else.”

  “Oh, really?” Sarcasm coated her words.

  He nodded slowly, his gaze intently on her. “Really. Nobody.”

  Her next words were swallowed up by the sincerity she saw in his eyes, heard in his voice. “Say it again,” she said.

  “There is nobody else, Evie.”

  The sentence gave her a thrill, because this time, she believed him. She replayed it in her mind, enjoying the confirmation more than she should.

  Her heart fluttered out of beat as the tension in the air settled into something new. Something warm and pleasant, alive and familiar. And suddenly she didn’t want to ask any more questions. Not if it meant spoiling a moment she’d dreamed about since the day he left. A dream in which she did nothing but reach out to him, plant her lips on his, and relish the blessed sensation of his kiss.

  “Do you have any idea how miserable I’ve been without you?” he asked.

  The sound of his low murmuring voic
e pushed her senses into tangled disarray. He’d never said that in her dream. Yet she couldn’t imagine a more beautiful phrase. She tuned into the feel of his wrists, grazing her shoulders as he propped himself up against her, so close she could nearly taste the smell of him.

  When Calvin nudged her feet apart, Evie glanced down, watched as his brown work boot slid between her high-heeled shoes. Her gaze moved up the length of him, taking in his lean, muscular build. He inched closer, sliding his leg between her knees, the rough denim of his jeans scratching against her bare legs. She gulped.

  His gaze shifted to her lips before meeting her eyes once more. Slowly, he slid his hand around her waist, fumbling with the bottom hem of her blouse. The warm tips of his fingers, slightly rougher than she remembered, caressed the skin along her lower back. His other hand moved to her neck, where his thumb traced the v-shaped hollow at the center of her throat. Gently, he slid his fingers up the back of her neck and gripped a handful of hair; the sensation raised goose bumps on her skin.

  He urged her head to tip back and brought his mouth to her ear. “I’ve been aching for you,” he purred, before grazing her lobe with his lips.

  Evie’s heart misbehaved when she felt his breath, hot against her neck. She remained motionless as his heated mouth traveled to the base of her throat where he pressed a warm and inviting kiss. Her body went limp.

  “I’ve missed your smile, your laugh.” He traced her collarbone with the tip of his nose before pausing, pulling in a deep, hearty breath. “I’ve missed your smell.” He kissed her there, and breathed in again, before letting out a throaty sigh. Then, with the skilled movement of his mouth, he teased his way back up her neck, along her jaw, her chin, until he reached the very corner of her lips.

  “And your kiss,” he whispered. He skimmed his mouth along hers. Back, forth, the heat from his breath fueling the flame within her. He wanted her, and the acknowledgement left her breathless.

  Evie reached up, gripped Calvin’s shirt in her fists, and pressed her mouth to his, releasing the pent-up passion inside her. The heavenly taste of his kiss, the blessed movement of his strong and certain lips, only fueled her desire for more. She let him toy with her, lead and encourage her, as she enjoyed the euphoric state of pleasure that was Calvin Knight’s kiss.