Page 66 of Evan and the Alpha

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Evan

Ipause with my next mouthful of bread right in front of my mouth and just stare at my mother. Food slops off the flatbread, all over the table. I can’t even do anything about it.

She shifts a little, like she’s uncomfortable. She won’t meet my gaze. Her brows are drawn in a deep frown, making all the little lines on her face stand out in stark relief. She looks a lot older than the last time I saw her. A lot.

“Whaddya mean?” I ask when I finally find my tongue.

She inhales through her nose. Her gaze darts up to the bandages that wrap my neck like some sort of collar. Then she looks away again. “I think it would be better if we went back to the station,” she repeats.

I drop my bread, my appetite deserting me. There’s no way I want to go off-planet. No way I want to get on that spaceship and go back to the station. “I’m fine, Mom.”

She finally meets my gaze. There are tears in her eyes but also something like flint.

Dad’s the disciplinarian, sure, but Mom’s a force to be reckoned with when she wants to be. I get the sinking feeling I’m in a losing argument here.

She clears her throat and walks to the window, peering out of it. “You seem fine,” she says evenly, “but do we really know that?”

“Uh, sure. Min did all those tests. Everything’s fine, Mom—”

Her gaze darts to mine. Her penciled-on eyebrows jump a little. “Tests measure some things,” she murmurs. “But not others.”

I sigh in exasperation. “Mom, he’s not abusing me—”

She looks pointedly at my neck. “He’s not!” I squawk, throwing my arms wide. “I know what it looks like, but—”

She looks suddenly very sorrowful. “We all say that,” she says softly. Her next couple of steps toward me seem to echo. I stare at her, my heart sinking all the way into my stomach.

I’d forgotten about that. Mom doesn’t talk about it a lot, but if anyone knows an abusive relationship, it’s her.

She leans over and strokes my cheek softly, fluffing my hair. She smiles tightly. “I know you think you love him,” she almost whispers.

“I don’t think,” I protest.

“But sweetheart … I’m worried.”

I pull away, hunching my shoulders. “Save it,” I mutter.

She lands a hand on my shoulder. “Evan, baby, I’m concerned—not just about him. Min’s tests say everything is okay, but … but nobody’s ever had this happen to them before.”

Bythis, I assume she means my being pregnant. I turn my head to look at her. She squeezes my shoulder. “I’d just feel better if you had a whole medical team, state-of-the-art technology—”

“Did Scott ask you to talk me into it?” My voice is sharp, like a knife. “Did Dad? They get orders from the higher-ups to drag me back so they can study me? Dissect me?”

My gut twists. I wish Darwin had never, ever made contact. I wish I’d left him lost in the desert.

Okay, that’s probably too harsh. Darwin’s a good guy; he didn’t mean for my family to show up. And he won’t mean for me to get hauled into a lab and poked and prodded and studied “for science.”

I swallow, then shake my head. “No way, Mom,” I mutter. “I’m not going there.”

She sighs. “Why do you always have to be so difficult?” She looks up. “Did I indulge you too much?”

“Huh?”

She smirks at me. “Baby of the family. Parents are always less strict with the younger ones.”

I glare at her. “You and Dad have been plenty hard on me, thanks.”