Sanctuary (RiffRaff Records Book 5)

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Sanctuary (RiffRaff Records Book 5) Page 8

by L. P. Maxa


  I watched as Evie closed her eyes tight, like she was fighting back tears. “Why am I here, Nicky?”

  The way she said my name, soft and letting a little piece of her drawl come through, hit me right in the chest. The bite in her tone was gone, and she sounded more like the girl I remembered. And it was only because she’d shown me a brief glimpse of the real Evie that I answered her honestly. “I don’t know, little bird.”

  When I leaned down to put my hand on her forehead she took a deep, contented breath. “My shit life is not your fault. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, and I’m sorry.”

  I moved my palm to her cheek, my heart growing soft at the sight of her small apologetic smile. “Yeah, well, I’m tough. I can take it.”

  “You shouldn’t have to.” Her eyes were still closed and her voice was getting quiet. I could see her start to slowly fade back out. “I should go.”

  She should go; there was no doubt about that. My life would be a hell of a lot simpler if she did. “Just sleep, little bird.” She wrinkled her nose at my continued use of her new nickname, but she didn’t protest. Within another few seconds she was out, her breathing steady and her face relaxed. I patted the mattress. “Come on, Ollie.” I stayed beside Evie until Ollie curled up against her once again. “I’ve got to make a phone call, you watch her.” I stood and pointed at my dog. “But don’t let her puke on the bed.”

  I wasn’t crazy. I knew that Ollie wouldn’t answer me back, but I also knew that she understood every word I said.

  I went into the kitchen and pulled out my cell. It was nearly six in the morning, but I knew my uncle would answer.

  “Now what in the world are you doing up so early?”

  I smiled at the sound of his scratchy voice. He’d basically had to drag my ass out of bed every morning for work when I’d been apprenticing with him. “That’s why I’m calling you actually.”

  “Everything okay, son?”

  I was closer to Waylon than I was my own father—hell, I barely remembered my dad, so it always warmed me a little when my uncle called me son. “Not even slightly, old man.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got Evie James in my bed.” I looked across the apartment, making sure she wasn’t standing in the doorway eavesdropping.

  “Well now, Nicky, I’m glad you want to share all your accomplishments with me. But, uh, how am I supposed to look her father in the face the next time he comes in here now that I know that you’ve fu—”

  “No, no, no. Wait.” I mean, I had fucked her. Which was no doubt what he had been about to say. But he didn’t need to know that, and her father sure as hell didn’t need to know that. “I met Evie a few years back when she came into the shop. We were, uh, friends I guess.”

  “Still sounds a lot like banging to me, son.”

  He wasn’t wrong. “When she came back in today, it was the first time I’ve seen her in almost two years. She’s strung out, man. Bad.” I sat down at my small kitchen table and put my head in my hand. “Pills, booze, some coke. She’s rail thin and she’d turned into a real brat.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry to hear that.” I could picture him shaking his head, his eyes sad. “Why she with you?”

  Because I’m a glutton for punishment. Because I have fucking white-knight syndrome. Take your pick I fucking guess. “She pretty much collapsed right in front of me at the shop so I carried her back here. I didn’t want to take her to the hospital because I didn’t want this whole thing to turn into a media shit storm.”

  Or at least all of that was what I’d been telling myself to justify my actions for the past twenty-four hours.

  “That was nice of you. Stupid. But nice.” He sighed on the other end of the line. “She okay?”

  “Yeah. Just came down real hard from what I can tell.” I glanced back to the bedroom door. “Look, I don’t want you to run and tell her dad or anything. But I wanted to give you heads up because I think I’m gonna close the shop for the weekend to try to help her out.” Why was I taking money out of my own pocket to help Evie James? No goddamn clue.

  My need to help Evie wasn’t easily explained. I’d felt a connection, a pull toward her the first time we’d met. Spending the night together, taking her virginity, had only strengthened it. And then the second I’d realized she was in trouble, I couldn’t stop myself. I had to be there for her. I had to try to save her.

  “You’re a good man, you know that?”

  “Yeah well, I had a good example.” My Uncle Waylon was the best. He’d give strangers the shirt off his back and homeless the food off his table.

  He chuckled, never one to bask in compliments. “She’ll need water, rest, probably something for the headaches she’s gonna get. Jell-O, chicken broth…things that are easy on her stomach. If it gets too rough, give me a call.”

  “I will. Thanks, old man.” I hung up.

  Uncle Waylon was a father figure to me, and he had been for basically my whole life. My parents split up when I was a toddler, but from the stories I’ve heard, both my mom and I were better off without my dad. He was hard, with a mean streak a mile wide. He hit my mom, and she put up with it. But the instant he raised a hand to me? We were gone. My uncle, my mom’s twin brother, took us in. We lived next door to him and he raised me as a son. Which probably had something to do with the fact that the poor man had three daughters.

  I collapsed on the couch, tossing my cell on the coffee table. What was I supposed to do now? What was I going to do when she woke up? Turning her away at this point would be the same thing as placing pills in her hand. She was going to feel like death when she finally woke, and the first thing she’d reach for was an upper.

  I closed my eyes, exhaustion finally taking me under. I’d been awake for almost twenty-four hours now. And if I let her stay, if I made her stay, the rest of my weekend was going to be even more draining.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Nick

  “Okay, you’re okay.” I rubbed circles on Evie’s sweat-soaked back. This was the third time she’d woken up and started dry heaving. “That all?” We’d developed a nice little routine.

  When she nodded I handed her the rag I’d re-wetted about fifty times now. She didn’t really have a fever, but she was clammy and she’d shiver every now and then. “Thanks.”

  Her voice was getting rougher from all the puking. Her beautiful face was waxy and her eyes looked hollow. It took a steady supply of pills and alcohol to make Evie James be the girl that everyone knew and loved. And hours and hours of detoxing for her to begin to return to the girl I’d known…the girl I could have loved, if I was being honest with myself.

  If I could turn back time, I would. I’d go back to the evening we’d met. I grab her face and make her hear me. I’d tell her she was perfect the way she was. I would tie her to my bed and make her stay with me until she believed that she didn’t need friends like those bratty sorority chicks. I’d make her see how amazing she was. I’d have tracked her down the morning she’d left. Or better yet I would have lain awake all night, waiting for her to open her eyes so I could beg her to go to breakfast with me. I’m not saying I would have asked her to marry me or anything, but I would have tried my best to stay in her life. Keep an eye on her and make sure she was safe and happy.

  “What time is it?”

  I looked across the room to the clock above the TV. “About six.”

  “In the morning?” Her forehead wrinkled and she shook her head slightly like she was confused.

  “Nope.” I chuckled as I took the rag from her hands and tossed it over to the nightstand. “In the evening.”

  “I slept all day?” Her voice rose and her hand immediately went to her head like the change in volume had hurt. “I’ve got to go.”

  “You puked and sweated and cried all day, not really all that much sleeping going on.” For either of us. “And you’re not going anywhere, little bird. I doubt you could even stand right now if you tried.” I perched on the edge of th
e mattress, patting Ollie’s pink belly.

  “I have, um, I have…” She closed her eyes and put a palm to her stomach. I wasn’t sure if she was going to fall back asleep or start vomiting again. “I have plans tonight.”

  I handed her the phone I’d plugged into my charger a few hours ago. “Break ‘em.” I stood and put my pointer finger against her forehead, pushing her gently back onto the pillows. “I’ll make you some soup.” While she slept I’d ordered groceries to be delivered, and I’d met them on the stairs, not wanting them to wake her. I was a bachelor who worked insane hours. All I had food-wise was week-old Chinese takeout, some ketchup, and one lone can of Pepsi.

  “I’m not hungry.”

  If she fought me on this, I’d win. She’d been detoxing for over twelve hours, she weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet, and she was weak as a kitten. “Either you eat, or I take you to the hospital and let them feed you through a tube, princess.” I turned, leaning against the doorframe, eyebrow raised in question. “What’s it going to be?”

  “Soup.” She swiped her phone open and then narrowed her eyes, like the bright screen was offensive. “And please, don’t ever call me princess again.”

  That was the second time that she’d asked me not to call her that. I didn’t know why it bothered her, and now wasn’t the time to argue. “Soup, coming right up, little bird.” I winked and then left the room before I could do something stupid like kiss her forehead or ask to be the big spoon.

  She was a drying-out mess in my bed. I’d had to change her clothes three times because she kept sweating through all my thin t-shirts. Her dry heaves were so loud that I was surprised my neighbors hadn’t come to check on me.

  And yet.

  She was still beautiful, and she still tugged at something inside me.

  I wasn’t sure there would ever be a day that Evie James didn’t affect me.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Evie

  I put my palms flat on the mattress and pushed myself into a sitting position, causing my head to swim. I fought another wave of nausea and prayed I wouldn’t lose the soup I’d eaten last night. It was the only thing giving me life at this point. Well that and the small sips of water I’d had each time I’d vomited.

  Ugh. I’d thrown up, in front of the world’s most gorgeous man, at least a dozen times. I turned around at the sound of a soft snore, expecting to see Ollie. But no, Nicky was on his side, his arm reaching out like he was searching for me in his sleep. When had he gotten in bed? Every other time I’d woken up he’d been across the room in a chair, or coming out of the bathroom with a rag in his hand.

  I grabbed my cell, reading through some of my messages. The only person I’d contacted when Nicky basically told me he was holding me hostage was Maykin.

  Maykin: Where you at bae?

  Maykin: I’m not worried about you, because you’re E fucking James, but I’d like to know where the hell you are.

  Evie: Crashed at a friend’s, be home tonight. Why are you so obsessed with me?

  I ignored Chasity’s texts. I didn’t give two shits what she had to say. I’d see her when I saw her. And she wouldn’t give me any crap about not returning her texts because she wouldn’t want to come across as the needy brat she was.

  Collin: I can’t believe you left like that. Do you have any idea how many girls would drop to their knees in front of me at the snap of my fingers?

  Leaving him at that party seemed like it’d happened a week ago. I’d barely been lucid for the last thirty-six hours; time was somewhat relative at the moment. I needed to wake up, fast.

  Collin: Whatever, I’ll be discrete. Don’t forget we have brunch on Sunday with my parents. Dress accordingly.

  Sunday was now, today. Fucking lovely. I had to pull myself together enough to be around fifty of Collin’s parents shit friends.

  Collin: Chasity said you didn’t sleep at the house last night. The same rules apply to you as they do to me princess.

  Collin: Answer me. NOW.

  The last one had been sent an hour ago. The clock on my cell told me I had two hours to get home, get showered and changed before Collin would be at my room to pick me up.

  Evie: I’ll be ready when you get here.

  His reply was almost immediate, like he’d been about to fire off another demanding message.

  Collin: You better fucking be.

  I stood as slowly as I could, not wanting to wake Nicky. He’d never understand why I had to go. He’d want me to stay. He’d want to keep taking care of me. But I wasn’t his problem. I’d heard him mumbling those words at least ten times in the past couple of days.

  And he was right. I wasn’t his. I was my own. I made my own choices, and I was the only one who was going to suffer the consequences. I’d go to brunch. I’d play the dutiful girlfriend to get what I needed from that prick.

  Ollie lifted her head when I got to my feet. I put my finger to my lips, begging her to be quiet, and thankfully she laid back down and rested her chin at Nicky’s feet.

  I grabbed my purse and messaged for a driver. The sorority used an exclusive car service, and we paid out the ass for it. I grabbed my shoes from the floor, pausing to write a note for Nicky.

  Nicky,

  Once again, thank you.

  All my love, but not in a clingy way.

  Evie

  PS: I’m really glad you got a dog.

  I knew that my words were more than lacking this time. But I didn’t know how to express what I needed to say. He’d saved me; he’d taken care of me. He’d been kinder than I deserved, for the second time in two years. Nick…shit. Had I still not asked him his last name? Ugh. I was the worst. And he was the best man I knew—and that was saying something because I’d grown up surrounded by some stellar males. Tears pricked the back of my eyes. If only my dad could see me now, huh?

  I picked up my shorts and quietly slipped out of the apartment, Nicky’s shirt hanging like a dress to my knees. Not exactly the walk of shame, but pretty damn close.

  ***

  “You look beautiful, princess.” Collin put his hand on my elbow and then leaned in to kiss my cheek.

  “Thank you.” It’d taken all of the two hours and a small miracle to make me appear healthy and in control. Plus two Adderall and three meal bars. I was in a long, flowy sundress, the print the perfect mix between summer chic and hippie chick. Collin’s parents liked when I toed the line between rock royalty and future lawyer’s wife. It gave them a story to tell their friends, and a hopeful gleam in their eye. Yeah, fat fucking chance, Metcalf family.

  I’d chosen to meet Collin downstairs, surrounded by people. That way, the only chance he’d get to yell at me would be in the car. There wasn’t too much damage he could do while he was driving. We held hands as we walked down the front lawn, and he opened my door with a smile on his face. His expensive Wayfarers hid the anger behind his eyes.

  Collin made his way to the driver’s side, and then sat, careful not to wrinkle his pressed khaki shorts or his button-down Southern Marsh dress shirt. His watch gleamed when the sunlight hit it through the windshield, and his Land Cruiser roared to life.

  “You want to tell me where the fuck you were yesterday? I know you didn’t sleep at the house this weekend.” His eyes were on the road, his expression relaxed but his tone dripping with venom.

  “Stayed with a friend of mine. I needed a break from living with twenty bratty chicks.” I slid my aviators further up my nose. If I kept losing weight like this I was going to need to take them in to be adjusted again. “Not that it’s really any of your fucking business.” Our relationship didn’t run like that. We weren’t honest and forthcoming. We weren’t anything that leaned toward healthy.

  He scoffed. “Don’t give me that bullshit. You moved in there five days ago; if you’re already sick of all your sisters then you should have gotten a house off campus like I told you to.”

  Demanded. He’d demanded I get a house off campus, so he could have a place to esc
ape Greek life as well. Which was the main reason I refused to do it. And the girls I lived with currently weren’t my sisters. I had real sisters and they never made me want to cut off my own ears so I couldn’t hear their incessant whining. “Yeah, well, hindsight’s twenty-twenty.” Ya douche canoe.

  “Were you careful?”

  “I didn’t fuck him.” I should have. I wanted to. Nicky had only grown more gorgeous over the last two years. His tattoos made my mouth water and those green eyes of his made me want to melt into a pile of goo at his feet.

  He reached over and took my hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing my knuckles. “That’s my girl.”

  Never in a million years.

  “I hooked up with some random freshman. She’s not even in a sorority. I doubt we’ll ever see her again.” He spoke like cheating on me was a normal conversation topic. It annoyed me because it spoke to how arrogant he was, not because I loved him. I didn’t like Collin. See? I couldn’t even muster up enough thought to hate the guy.

  “I don’t care who you fucked as long as no one saw you.” I really didn’t care who he banged when I wasn’t around. In fact, if he wanted to only sleep with other people, and never me, I’d be okay with that too. Collin and I always used protection. Basically, I wrapped the jerk in Saran Wrap before I even kissed him. And I fucked him as little as possible. But I was Evie James, and it wouldn’t look good if my boyfriend got away with cheating on me.

  We drove the rest of the short distance in silence. Before long, we were at his parents’ large Highland Park home. He thought he was hot shit growing up in the monstrosity, and I let him. His parents’ money could never touch the kind of fortune the Devil’s Share, and then RiffRaff Records, had accrued. My trust fund was bigger than what he would make in a decade at his father’s law firm.

  But power was important to Collin; he thrived on it. So, it was much easier to let his small mind think what it wanted. I was with Collin for one reason and one reason only.

 

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