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His brow furrows, deep lines etched in his face. “You mean what he did to Evie?”
This conversation is the most I’ve talked about Shane since that night. There’s things I don’t need to know. I know he’s being held at the Alabama State Corrections, and believe me, it’s crossed my mind to go and see him, but I don’t. I wouldn’t walk out of there without being put in jail myself.
I nod to his question, my stomach burning, a pulsing in my left ear I know probably isn’t a good thing. But I can’t stop. I need to know.
“Grayson….”
“Just fucking tell me,” I groan. “Everyone has all these goddamn secrets about what happened that night and all I have are flashes of images.” I swallow excessively, trying to clear thelump in my throat but nothing works. It refuses, much like the inability to control anything around me. “I don’t know what’s real and what’s not.”
He hesitates but finally gives me some truth. “They did a rape test of Evie. It was confirmed to be Shane’s DNA.”
Sighing, I turn and watch my truck burning, images of Evie that night flashing in my head.
I watch the deep flames of the raging fire through blurry eyes. I hate the man I’ve become because of it though, the one pushing away the one girl I’d die to protect.
Hicks places his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s get you home.”
“Don’t take me back to the house,” I mumble when he reaches for the fire extinguisher.
“Would you rather I take you to jail?”
“Maybe. Which one?”
He rolls his eyes at me. I’ll take that as I’m not going to jail today. Though it’d be better than the lecture I know I’ll be getting at the house.
60
EVIE
I’m not healing. I’m suppressing. For him. And I’ll keep doing it until he’s ready.
That’s what I tell myself over and over again as I drive around town looking for Grayson since he left.
For an hour, I check all the usual spots with Frankie, even The Point. I even check Shane’s old house. I can’t find him anywhere.
“Where could he be?” I turn off the highway, and left at The Point.
Frankie stares at her phone, texting Ethan. “Knowing him, anywhere. You don’t think he drove out to the correction center, do you?”
“In Montgomery?” I gasp, knowing that’s where Shane is. “I hope the hell not.” My heart lurches in my chest. “You’d think he’d be picked up before he got out of town. Every cop in town knows his license is revoked and all the windows are busted out of the truck.”
Frankie’s eyes shift to mine. “I’m worried about him. He’s not himself anymore.”
“Frankie, you’re the one that keeps telling me he’s going to be fine!”
“I know. It’s just hard to watch.” She flips her hand around. “Ignore me. I’m just pregnant and worrying about everything. Like yesterday, I drank expired milk. It tasted fine, but the entire day I kept thinking holy crap, what if the baby gets sick and vomits inside me?”
I snort-giggle. “You know that’s not possible, right? I mean, it’s not, right?”
“No, it’s not. They don’t throw up inside you and the little thing is the size of a lemon. No way it throws up, but that’s what I’m saying. My brain is fucking weird. I literally spent all day having these visions of it throwing up.” She tosses her head back, groaning. “And then I made myself get sick. It’s awful. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“I think you’re pregnant, your brother was nearly killed, and you’re getting married next month. That’s a lot on a girl, you know?”
Frankie reaches for my hand. She holds it tight and smiles. “You’ve been through a lot. And my shithead little brother isn’t making it easy.”
“No, he’s not,” I agree, anger rushing through me.
“Let’s head back to the house. I’ll call Hicks and see if he can look for him.”