Page 216 of Evil Hearts

Chapter 2: Eva

I ’d never had to witness death with my own eyes, but seeing it changed me and those I cared about. Families and friends can become divided after a tragic death, and I had to experience it, to go through it, to figure out how to sort the rest of my life after witnessing my best friend’s death. Losing her was hard, and even after a year, it’s never going to be easy.

Ivy lost her life to a heart attack. She’d been healthy, happy, and a month away from marrying a man none of us were quite happy about. We’d taken a girls’ vacation, and it was there in the hotel that we’d found Ivy on the floor in our room. She’d been alone when she passed. Seeing her death, it changed Hartley and me.

Hartley, my other best friend, cut out everyone and buried her feelings. It’s not her fault for feeling this way. Ivy was the glue that held our trio together, and without her, things will never be the same. They haven’t been in the year that Ivy’s been gone.

While Hartley kept attending college despite everything that happened, I couldn’t go back. Everything reminded me of Ivy, and I had a mental breakdown about a month after her funeral. I couldn’t stay in college anymore, so I dropped out.

“Ives, you’ll never believe this.” I bend down to place a small bouquet of red roses atop Ivy’s headstone. “They’re making a prequel of the live action of The Lion King .” I shake my head, and the corners of my mouth quirk up a little. “You loved the sequel more than the first.”

The smile slips off my face, and I let out a weary sigh and move to take a seat beside the headstone. I don’t care if my jeans are covered in dirt and mildew. This is as close as I’ll get to my best friend these days. My eyes start to burn, and I wipe at the tears on my cheeks. “I miss you.”

“They can’t hear you from where they are,” a voice calls.

My hand digs against the ground, the dirt feels cold on my fingertips, and I turn quickly, narrowly avoiding faceplanting the headstone in front of me. My brows furrow when I glare up to see the man leaning on a nearby headstone. “What?”

“They can’t hear you.”

“Who?” My gaze darts around to the empty cemetery.

When I look at the man again, he gives me a look of indignation and gestures around him. “The dead. It’s pointless talking to rotting flesh.”

I scowl at him. “You don’t know anything,” I snap and turn away from him. My hand curls around clumps of dirt. I’m severely tempted to throw it at his face for his hurtful comment.

“You’d be surprised,” he says. “I know more than I’m letting on.”

My eyes roll heavenward. “Why don’t you go bother someone else and leave me alone?”

“Do you see anyone else talking to a pile of bones here?” My eyes well up with more unexpected tears.

I angrily brush them away and rise from the ground. I swipe at the dirt on my jeans, desperate to get this entire day over with. I didn’t need some tall, brooding, and brawny guy laughing at my expense. It was a mistake coming here. The man probably loved tormenting the grief stricken. I swallow back the retort on my lips and start back to my car just up ahead.

“Wait—Are you crying? Like legit crying?” His voice has grown softer—concerned, even.

I probably look like a raccoon with my mascara running down my cheeks, but I still turn to look at him. “Why do you care?”

His brown eyes darken when he takes in my appearance. “I don’t,” he states simply. “But please, be my guest and water the graves while you’re at it. Some look like they could use a good rinsing.”

My mouth parts slightly. “How can you say something like that? You’re horrible!”

The man’s shoulders lift into a half shrug. “Speaking the truth, as they say. Although it hasn’t gotten me anywhere of late.” He reaches up to rub the back of his neck. If I weren’t about to bawl my eyes out, I would’ve sucker punched him in the gut. Some jerks just loved flaunting their arrogant asses, and the more attractive they are, the worst it gets.

And he has it all. The height, the wide set shoulders, the high cheekbones, and hard jawline. He’s got the soul sucking brown eyes and curly black hair. He’s the most attractive male specimen I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. And it absolutely sucks ass that he’s the one tormenting me.

“I can’t imagine why,” I snap back. “All you do is spout hurtful things.”

He arches a dark brow. “All are the truth.”

I sputter at him. “How you can think that is beyond me.”

The man straightens away from the headstone, his eyes never leaving my face. “Talking to the dead won’t help you. Neither will tears.”

I take an automatic step back. My pulse pounds in my ears. I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “And what could you possibly know about grief?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had a long time to deal with grief. You learn to move on, whether your mind wants you to or not.” His eyes are earnest, but it’s the volume of his words that makes them sink into my heart and wrap around my chest like a serpent.

Hartley buries her grief, and this man standing before me must do the same. “Everyone grieves differently,” I tell him. “You can’t just expect me to bury my emotions the way you have.”

He tilts his head, and the rays of the sun highlight his short dark hair. “I never buried my emotions.” The corners of his mouth quirk up, and my heart stutters in my chest. I wonder what he’d look like if he fully smiled? “In fact, I’m doing quite the opposite.”

I swallow hard to try and clear my throat. “And what is that?”

The man moves away from the headstone. My gaze darts briefly to the marble and then back to him. He had been leaning against an angel statue. I’d never noticed it in all the times that I’d visited Ivy’s grave.

“I’m going to show them just how much they need me,” he says and inches closer.

My feet are rooted to where I stand. There’s a pounding in my eardrums, and my chest feels like it’s going to cave in. I let out a shuddering breath. “What are you talking about?”

The man rolls his shoulders, and shadows take the form of wings opening up behind him. “They won’t be able to refuse me once I have something they want.”

My mouth parts open. “W-who wants…?”

He reaches me and presses his index finger to my lips. My heart skitters around in my chest like a hopping rabbit. I should be running, but I can’t feel my legs. Would I fall if I tried to run?

I snap my eyes shut, squeezing them tight as I can. Cool metal is placed at my temple, and I inhale a quick breath of surprise. There’s a trembling that starts in my hands and spreads throughout my body.

“P-please d-don’t…” I can barely dare myself to open my eyes. I know what I’ll find, and I don’t know what petrifies me more—the man with wings or the gun he’s holding.

I jump when his breath skims my neck. My eyes snap open, and panic rises in my chest. Whoever this man is, I need to get away from him. But I know without a doubt he’ll use the gun on me to make his point.

“Let’s play a game, little rabbit.” His lips are pressed against the curve of my ear. The hair on the back of my neck prickles, and gooseflesh blooms across my skin. “I’m going to count to ten, and you’ve got until then to get away from me.”

I take my lower lip between my teeth to keep from crying out. Tears burn my eyes and spill down my cheeks. “And if you don’t, well, you’ll know when it hits you.”