Page 19 of All I Have Left

EVIE

T o my relief, Shane doesn’t show up at my house that morning and I’m able to get to work. I know it’s not because he’s letting it go, but more along the lines of biding his time.

The coffee shop, Roaster Brew House, where I work is up the road about a mile right off the side of the highway as you head into Dothan.

Small and looking like an old barn with chipped blue siding and a few spiders that I’m friends with, it’s popular with most of the locals and anyone passing through our small town.

Having lived here most of my life, I’ve developed a sort of following.

To say I have my fair share of local farm-stalkers as I call them, is an understatement.

Usually the dirty old men come in at least three times during my six-hour shifts.

How they can drink that much caffeine and not have a heart attack is beyond me.

It’s a good job though and the tips are amazing, but it’s certainly not a career choice.

I attempted college two years ago, but when my mom lost her job with Toyota as an office manager, sacrifices had to be made.

So I dropped out and picked up shifts here at the coffee shop and The Point when Quinten needed me.

Mom has been through so much to have us… not helping her wa sn’t an option. Between the three of us, we are able to live comfortably, but if it wasn’t for Ethan and me, she couldn’t afford her house.

It wasn’t like she didn’t look for a new job, but it took her six months to find something else.

That’s where Ethan and I came in. Mom wasn’t happy about us helping her pay bills, but what could she say?

She needed us. She did everything she could to make our lives better and we would do the same for her.

Grayson’s parents, Wyatt and Julia, got wind of our situation.

They wanted to help out so Julia got Mom into landscaping.

She found an entry level position for her with Larson Landscaping in Dothan and she loves it.

I’ve never seen her so happy and confident in herself.

When I think about how I got messed up with Shane, it all goes back to my mom’s job and my need to make sure she keeps it.

It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her happy.

Looking across the parking lot, I see Shane’s car parked by the dumpsters.

He’s sitting there watching me. Trying to give me the message he won’t be pushed aside easily.

My situation isn’t good. Any way I look at it, someone gets hurt.

I’m suffocating. I have no choice, but I’ll be damned if that person will be my mom.

Sheriff Hicks comes through the line at some point and notices Shane is parked outside the dumpsters, watching me. “Is he causing ya problems, Evie Stevie?”

I don’t look toward Shane’s mustang. “No, sir.” Do you notice the waver to my voice or the shaking of my hand when I take his money?

“Would you tell me if you needed help?” he asks as I’m handing him his coffee, his eyes on my trembling hand. Or maybe he notices the sadness in my eyes that scream “help me,” but won’t ask for it.

Would I? No. I wouldn’t. It will only piss Shane off even more. I nod, knowing the lie about to slip through my lips. “I would. Thank you. ”

Hicks pauses, watching my face, maybe looking for a hidden message, but he lets it go.

As Hicks pulls away, I lean out the window enjoying the breeze on my face, letting out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. I catch sight of Shane’s car and notice Courtney is standing next to it, talking to him.

I watch her, my eyes drawn to her golden legs. Long, tan, she’s got the kind of legs that capture people’s attention. Hell, they captured Grayson’s at one point.

Shane notices me, obviously, because he rests his arm out the car window and slides to the back of Courtney’s thigh.

Fucking asshole.

Eventually Courtney walks away. She smiles at me, giving me that little parade wave she gives everyone in town. “Hey, girl,” she says in passing. But then she stops and my heart jumps into my throat.

“What?” I ask, wishing I could slam the window on her pretty face and steal her red hair. I once tried to dye my hair red after Grayson kissed Courtney in the fourth grade. I looked like an orange highlighter exploded in my hair. It wasn’t a good look for me and Grayson made fun of me.

Courtney’s smile is shy when she says, “Word around town is that Grayson’s back.” I hate the way his name sounds on her lips. It doesn’t belong there.

“Yeah, he got back yesterday.” I push some authority into my tone. Like I know everything there is to know. And he almost had sex with me last night, so there. Take that!

I smile but don’t say any of that. Fuck her.

“Tell him I said hi,” she says, walking away.

I won’t.

After my shift, I’m tired and think maybe I’ll get the chance to go home and sleep, but Shane shows back up.

As I walk to my car with my head down, Shane blocks my path with his car and gives me a head nod. “Get in.”

I want so badly to say no. I should. “Shane, I’m tired and I want to go home.” Standing my ground, I lean into my car. I wish I smoked because then I could play the cool card and light a cigarette. Maybe even get myself a leather jacket and some combat boots. Steel-toed ones.

His eyes snap to mine, shocked I’ve denied him. “Get in the fucking car, Evie.”

“Why should I?” I stare at him. There’s something off about him. His pupils are swallowing his irises and he’s colder than usual. Gone is the one begging for forgiveness and I’m left with the one who hurts and causes pain.

“I don’t think you want to know what I’ll do if you don’t,” he hisses.

My heart beats wildly in my chest, my hands shaking as I fidget with my keys. Unsure what else to do, fear working through me in waves, I leave my car in the parking lot and get in Shane’s car.

The minute I’m in the car, he turns onto the highway without words, his hand on my thigh.

I try to push him away, but he isn’t having it. “I don’t fucking think so. Not now.”

His jaw tenses and he swerves, driving down an old dirt road off the main highway.

I know immediately what’s about to happen. He’s going to take what I won’t give him.

When he kills the engine, shadowed amongst overgrown shrubs and thick trees, he unbuttons his belt buckle first and then the zipper, each click louder than the next.

Reaching over, his right hand comes to rest behind my neck and tightens in my hair, trying to coax me toward him. He leans in and presses his lips to my temple. I hate the reminder that Grayson kissed that same spot this morning.

You will never take his place. You will never mean to me what he does.

Wincing, I shake my head, pleading, knowing my denial means nothing. “No. ”

“I didn’t ask for your permission.” I gasp for a breath. Tightness claws at my chest, tears stinging. Salty tears trickle down my cheeks. As he moves, he pushes his jeans past his hips and then to my mouth, his fingers probing along my jaw and then inside my mouth. “You know you want to.”

It’s revolting. Both him forcing his fingers in my mouth and the fact I’m saying no and my denial means nothing. “Shane, don’t.” I twist my head away from him, toward the window. “This is what I’m talking about. You beg for forgiveness and then you do this.”

His grip around my neck tightens, his right hand pinching the side of my face so hard I feel the burn and know damn well I’ll have another bruise to cover up tomorrow. “Why should I ask for forgiveness anymore? You never fucking give it.”

I stare at him, not hiding my tears. “Why are you doing this?” I sob, unable to control my crying.

“Because you need to know who you actually belong to.”

“I don’t belong to any—” I’m not able to finish, his hand draws back and connects against my cheek.

The sting is immediate, then the throbbing and the realization that I did this. I got in the car with him. I didn’t ask for it, but I also knew better. I hold my hand to my heated face, my throat painfully dry as tears come harder.

I want to fight him off but I don’t. Instead, I cry silently as he forces my head into his lap. “This is what your mouth should be used for. Not talking.”

If I hadn’t been so scared of him hurting me worse than this, I would fight back. But I think I’m past that point. What I have right now, this is all I have left of me. A girl. A broken girl being forced, no, letting someone control her in ways no one should ever be controlled.

I don’t want to go down without a fight. I always thought a girl could fight back and never be forced to do something like this. But right now, what would fighting back get me?

More bruises I can’t explain. More pain I can’t take .

Halfway through it, I’m numb, no longer in my body and mentally in a place I can cope with it. I make the motions to get it over with so I can run away from him.

I think of Grayson, try to imagine him even, but that only makes me cry harder because Grayson would never force me to do something like this.

Shane slams my head down on him. “Fucking suck it. I know you know how.”

With my body no longer my own in his presence, I gag and beg for him to stop, but it does nothing. He doesn’t let go. At some point, my teeth scrape him.

He pulls at my hair and I beg for him to let me stop. He hears none of that. “You fucking bite me, Evie, and I will hurt you so much worse than ever before.” He forces me down harder. “You understand?”

I say nothing in response. I can’t actually. I don’t know many people who can coherently talk with a dick in their mouth. I do cry though. I cry because I allow him to do this. I cry because in my world, I have no other choice.

I fight off the urge to vomit a few times but the most demeaning part about it is when he comes, he does it on my face and then smears it on my cheeks. His laughter rolls through the car but stops when he notices Sheriff Hicks pull up behind us.

“I fucking hate you!” I gag, my sobbing reaching a high of hysteria. I take my shirt and wipe my cheek. I can barely get the words out when I shove him away from me. “You fucking asshole!” I cry, kick at him and his car, anything to get away from him. “I hate you! I hate you so much!”

“I don’t give a shit if you hate me.” He yanks up his pants and buttons them frantically. I can’t look at him. “Go see that son of a bitch now. Show him who you fucking belong to, who owns you.”

His hand brushes over my cheek and I knock it away, his eyes on the rearview mirror.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” I growl .

Shane laughs, bitter and as cold as his heart and haunts me like a bad dream. Rolling his head to the side, he glances out the window to where Hicks is standing.

Hicks’s eyes move from Shane, to mine. He notices my crying. “Everything okay, Evie?”

I can’t answer him. The tears won’t stop enough.

“She’s fine,” Shane snaps.

Hicks snaps his stare to Shane and leans in. “You can’t park here, Larson.” His words are curt and to the point.

“We were just leaving.”

I draw in a breath, trying to calm myself down. Hicks watches me carefully. “Evie, would you like me to give you a ride?”

“Like I said, Hicks.” Shane glares at him. “She’s fine.”

Straightening his posture, Hicks tucks his hands on his hips, his gun visible.

He looks at me and we exchange a knowing look.

“You know how to get a hold of me if you need to, honey.” And then he leans in and levels Shane a warning.

“If I find out her crying is anything more than a simple misunderstanding of words between you two, I will personally see to it that you never see daylight again.”

“Noted,” Shane mumbles, his jaw working back and forth.

When the sheriff backs away, Shane stares at me, the side of his face lit up by the lights of the cop car backing out. He searches my eyes, and I can see remorse working through him. “You made me do that. You did.”

I cry into my palms, filling the car with a sadness he will never understand. I want to inflict pain on him and hurt him like he’s done to me, but that’s not like me.