Evan

 

“Porter, didn’t expect to see you here,” Vin said, eyeing me up and down. What the fuck was his problem all of a sudden?

“Vin,” Peters snapped.

“Oh, come on. We all know what he did to Becca.”

Peters stood, wiping her hands down her jeans. “If you’re placing blame, then add me to your shit list, yeah?”

That shut him up.

I glanced at Lilly, surprised to see her with Peters. She’d been in Becca’s corner since it all went to shit. She ducked her head as if she could hear my thoughts.

“I’m going for a smoke. I’ll be back.” She jerked her head toward the Funhouse. Vin, Lilly, and Jay nodded, and I followed Peters. When we were out of sight, she held out her hand.

“You really need to stop this shit,” I said.

“Enough, Dad,” she groaned, thrusting her hand farther forward. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out two joints but held them just out of her reach.

“Is that it?”

“Peters.”

“Porter.”

“You know I hate doing this shit.”

“And you know if I don’t get it from you, I’ll only go elsewhere.”

My fist clenched. I didn’t want her anywhere near Credence’s local dealer. “You’re a bitch.”

She swiped the joints out of my hand and grimaced, but I saw the humor there. “Don’t I know it.” She stashed one in her jacket and sparked up the other, inhaling a lungful of smoke. “Thanks,” she murmured over a ring of white.

“I didn’t expect to see Lilly and Vin here.”

“It was only a matter of time.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means that Becca’s going to push away everyone who’s ever given a shit about her because of your fucking mess.”

“Not this again.” I clutched the back of my neck. “I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”

“But it did. I broke her trust, you broke her heart, and Kendall crushed her image. She’s not going to come back from that anytime soon.”

“Kendall isn’t a problem anymore.”

“Are you high? Of course she’s a fucking problem. She hated Becca and everything she stood for before she found out you’d gone and fallen for her. It’ll be Ami all over again.”

“No.”

It wouldn’t. It couldn’t be.

“You think Kendall’s going to back off because you asked? She’s a psycho bitch. She won’t stop until she runs Becca out of town.”

“You’re wrong.” Kendall wouldn’t go that far; she wouldn’t risk it—not now that she knew how I felt about Becca.

“I’m not, and we both know it. I’ll protect her from afar, do what I can, but if Becca wants to go it alone, we can’t watch her twenty-four seven.”

Shit. This was so fucked up.

“What’s Stokes’ problem? If he goes after Becca …”

“Who, Vin? Jesus, Evan, that’s what you’re concerned about? Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing. At least, if she was dating, she’d had someone ar—”

“Take that back,” I hissed.

“What?” She held up her hand. “It’s true. If she’s dating, she’s not walking around like a lamb to the slaughter.”

“Not an option, Peters.” No one was touching Becca.

No one.

“Unless she wants it, right? Because, I mean, she’s a free agent, and she can date who she wants.”

“She isn’t dating. We’re not having this conversation. Drop it.”

“Touchy. You should have a smoke, lose some of that tension you got going on.”

I glared at her. She knew I would never touch that shit. Noticing my worsening mood, she conceded. “Christ, everyone’s so hormonal these days. As if I haven’t got enough crap to deal with.”

“How is she?” I asked, feeling some of my irritation ebb away. It was easy to forget I wasn’t the only one with shit going on.

“Up and down.”

“Listen, if you ever need to talk—”

Peters bristled, and I sensed her walls coming up. “I’m good. It’s life, right? Same old shit, just a different day.”

She wasn’t wrong. Living in Credence was poisonous for kids like us.

“I’ll keep an eye out for her, okay?” She stubbed out the joint on the wall and pocketed it. “Just don’t go doing anything stupid.”

I tipped my chin at her and watched her head back to the others. If something happened to Becca because of me—because of Kendall’s sick and twisted fixation with me—I would never forgive myself. But it was an impossible situation. I’d intervened once, and look where that got me. Peters was right, though. If Becca was hell-bent on pushing away everyone who cared about her … things could get a lot worse before they got better.

~

“I’m home.” I closed the door behind me and moved through the house. “Eli? Mom?”

“In here, baby,” a voice said, and a sinking sensation descended over me. I knew that tone, and it only meant one thing.

“Evan!” Eli leaped up off the floor and bounded to me. “Mom got me pizza.”

I eyed the half-empty box on the counter and shot Mom a cold look. If she noticed, she didn’t let on as she came to us.

“We wondered when you’d be home.” The smell of alcohol filled the air. She promised. She fucking promised not to drink around Eli. My body shook with anger.

“Hey, buddy.” I scooped Eli up, moving farther into the living portion of the room. “Shall we see if Mellie’s in? Maybe you could go and play with Deacon.” Deacon, Mellie’s grandson, stayed over on the weekends. He was a couple of years older than Eli, but they were boys. As long as cars or trucks or superhero pups were involved, they usually played well together.

“Evan, I wanted us to spend the evening together as a family.” Mom hiccupped, and I glared at her.

“Eli wants to play over at Mellie’s, right, E?”

He cheered and said, “Can I, Mom? Pweaaaase?”

“Oh, okay, baby, but come home soon so I can tuck you in, okay?”

More cheers filled the room, and I dug my cell phone out my pocket and dialed Mellie. She said to bring him right over. She knew the drill by now because I always tried to get Eli out of the house when Mom was drunk. If it came to it, she’d keep him overnight.

“Let’s go, buddy.”

I ignored Mom’s look of disapproval as we left and headed next door. Mellie was waiting. “Eli, Deacon is inside, and he can’t wait to see you.” She patted his head as he disappeared inside.

“Thank you,” I said. “She’s okay, but I don’t want him around when she’s like that.”

“I know, Evan, and you know I’m always here, but maybe it’s time to—”

“I have to get back.” I couldn’t meet her eyes. “Thanks, again. I’ll come by for him in a bit, okay?”

“Sure thing.”

Jogging back to the house, I braced myself for the shitstorm headed my way. It was quiet, too quiet, when I closed the door and made my way into the house.

“He’s not your son.” The venom in her words stung. But I was more pissed at the bottle in her hand.

“You’re right. He isn’t. He’s my four-year-old brother who doesn’t understand why his mom isn’t around to tuck him in or take him to pre-K or read books to him and play games.”

“He isn’t four yet.” Doubt crossed her face.

“I’m surprised you can remember.”

She slammed her hand down on the table. “How dare you disrespect me like that? I am your mother.”

“You haven’t been my mother for a long time, but that kid still needs his mom. He needs you to get clean and be his mom.” I swallowed the lump in my throat while Mom watched me, her eyes glazed over from the effects of the vodka or whatever it was in the bottle she was clutching like it was her lifeline.

“I won’t let you take him away from me.”

My head tipped back, and I raked a hand over my face. Jesus. Didn’t she see what was staring her right in the face? I wasn’t the enemy.

“It’s not me you need to worry about, Mom.”

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You know exactly what it means.”

“Your aunt and uncle have done nothing but help us.”

A bitter laugh spilled out. “Help us?” Help fuel her addiction, more like. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Watch your language. I am your mother; you can’t speak to me like that.” She pushed her chair back and stood sloppily, her body like a rag doll. It used to hurt to see her like this, but I was hardened to it now.

“You’re drunk. Go sleep it off.”

“I will not. I’ll have you know”—she poked her finger in my direction—“I’m going out.”

“Sure, you are.”

“Got me a date.”

“Enjoy your date, Mom. He’s a lucky man.” I couldn’t help myself. She was sick, but she didn’t even try to help herself. I’d tried, and Mellie had tried. Even her doctor tried talking to her once, but it all fell on deaf ears.

Maybe I should have begged her to stay, to sober up and spend time with Eli, but being around her like this was toxic. It sucked me dry and left me bitter.

“Don’t walk away from me, Evan. Don’t you dare …”

But I was already gone. Because a little boy next door needed me. Needed someone to keep him safe and show him the world wasn’t all bad.

And he was the only thing that mattered right now.

~

I woke to Eli plastered against me, a line of drool trailing over my t-shirt. It was gross, but when I’d fetched him from Mellie’s and told him Mom had gone out, he got upset and asked to sleep with me. 

“E, buddy, wake up. I need my arm back.”

“Huh? I’m tired, Ev. Lemme sweep some more.”

“Roll over, okay?” I helped him move, wiggling my dead arm free. 

After tucking him back in, I went to the bathroom and then in search of coffee. The house was quiet, and I soaked it up. Living with a drunk and a toddler, I didn’t often experience silence. It was nice even if it felt unfamiliar. 

As the coffeemaker whirred to life, I leaned back against the counter, stretching my arms that were stiff from sharing with my little bed invader. 

Mom’s purse was on the table, so at least she was home. I’d heard her stumble through the front door in the middle of the night. Thankfully, there had only been one set of footsteps. She’d gotten a drink and gone straight to bed. Our place was small, and the walls were thin, so there wasn’t much room for privacy, but at least it gave me peace of mind when I heard her arrive home.

When the coffee was ready, I made an extra cup. I was still angry, but I knew she’d need it more than I did. Mom’s room was at the back of the house, separate from our rooms. I knocked and listened for any sign of life.

Nothing.

“Mom, I made coffee.”

Silence.

It wasn’t uncommon for her to be passed out for hours after a heavy night, so I pushed the door ajar and peeked inside. My eyes landed on her bruised face.

“Mom, what the hell?” I rushed to her side and placed the coffee on the nightstand beside her bed. 

“Mom? Mom, can you hear me?”

Her face was a mess. Angry and red, she had swelling around her left eye and a split in her bottom lip, dried blood crusted to her skin. 

“Mom?”

She murmured; a pained groan seemed lodged in her throat. It wasn’t the first time I’d found her this way, but it hadn’t happened in a while. 

“Ev, what’s wrong with Mom?” Eli’s voice said from behind me, and I spun around to find him rubbing his half-closed eyes. I scooped him up, rushed into the living room, and deposited him on the couch.

“Mom’s sleeping, okay, buddy? I’ll turn on the cartoons and make you Pop-Tarts.”

He nodded as he was still not in the land of the living. I turned on the television and grabbed the house phone and dialed Mellie’s number. There was no answer. It was Saturday, and she normally took Deacon to his softball practice.

Shit. What was I going to do? I couldn’t take Eli with me to the medical center. That would lead to too many questions, and besides, he didn’t need to see Mom like that. 

Before I knew what I was doing, I jogged into my bedroom, found my cell phone, and scrolled to Becca’s number. 

It was a bad idea. A really bad idea.

But what choice did I have?