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“Does Divinity even have an emergency vet?” I ask, my brows furrowed as Chase takes a deep breath behind me. My focus is still solely on the lighter, on the fire.
“Nope,” he says heavily as though the weight of the world rests on his shoulders. “She drove to the town over in the middle of the night, only to be told he was fine. That she’d given him too much damn peanut butter.” I snort a laugh at that, my lips tipping up. “I was so pissed at her.”
“Why?” I turn to look at him, resting my arm on the folding chair. He takes another deep breath, his face uncharacteristically serious.
“She drove by herself! It was one in the morning and she drove by her-damn-self.” He lets out a frustrated sound, throwing his arms out. I don’t want to ask—I don’t want to know. But I can’t stop the words from forcing their way out.
“Why didn’t she take Eve with her?”
He pauses and glances at me. “She’s not in town,” he says, and my brows lift.
“What?” I growl. “Where the fuck did she go?”
“No idea,” he says, shaking his head. “Eve wouldn’t tell me.”
I try to squash down the instantaneous rage at the realization that he spoke to Eve, again, but I can’t. The turmoil that always writhes beneath my skin has been boiling for weeks now, ever since I saw that damn video. I can feel it getting closer and closer to the surface, like it’s waiting to strike.
I just hope that when it does, it’s not in the wrong direction.
“And Oli doesn’t know?” I push to my feet, ready to sprint to Divinity and make Olive tell me where the fuck Eve is. My heart is hammering in my chest with every ragged breath. I haven’t seen the girl in four fucking years. She’s an adult, for shit’s sake, she can take care of herself.
Except, she clearly can’t, the little voice buried deep in the back of my mind hisses.
“She just said Eve went out of town for a few days,” he shrugs, still eyeing me warily. “It’s not a big deal. She’s a grown woman, Ro. She can do what she wants.”
My hands ball into tight fists at his words even though they echo what I just told myself.
Maybe she’s a woman now, but she wasn’t the last time I saw her. She was still a girl, still scared but curious about the world. And now? Now she’s camming and traveling and doing fuck only knows what else. She’s not the same girl I left. She’s reckless and crying out for attention in all the wrong places.
If that doesn’t scream disaster waiting to happen, I don’t know what does.
Chase’s gaze turns sharp as he watches me, his brows pushing together. “Hey, man, are you okay?”
“Great,” I mutter as I shove past him. “I need a smoke.”
Grabbing my pack of cigarettes from the table in the back, I leave the small white tent and stand off to the side, hidden from view but still able to see everyone exploring the festival.
It’s a hot day, and I shouldn’t be surprised there are so many people here, but fuck. They’re like ants. There are a million of them.
Ripping the box open, I pull out a cancer stick and slip it between my teeth, the nicotine already doing something to calm me. The sound of my lighter flicking to life again, the faint sizzle of the paper as it ignites, the warm fire so close to my face, the thick smoke as it invades my lungs—it’s a ritual I’ll never give up.
I take a long drag, inhaling the smoke and holding it in until it makes my chest ache, until I feel my body begging for oxygen. Slowly, I release it, my eyes fluttering shut as I take another long inhale. It grounds me, makes me feel somewhat human.
Another pull, and I open my eyes, the bright sun reflecting off the concrete momentarily blinding me. Everything adjusts, the world around me dimming as my body continues to quiet. I scan the little groups of smiling people, the parents with their young kids, pointing and showing them the beauty of the world.
That bitter part of my soul rears its ugly head at the sight. For a short time, I saw the world that way. Eve taught me what the world could be. That it could be gentle and full of laughter. Full of love.
All I’d ever known was discipline—from my father, from the church, from God, from my coaches. Punishment in the form of harsh words, harsh hands and harsher lessons. Punishment in the form of losing my mom.
But then Eve came into our lives and everything got turned upside down.
For the first time, I watched my usually harsh father become soft. His touch was soft with her, with Jane. His eyes were warm, his smile was genuine. Everything about him changed seemingly overnight.
He couldn’t keep the charade up forever, though, and parts of his darkness began to seep through. Not enough to alarm anyone, but the deep breaths he took to try to keep his composure, or the way his hands balled into fists, told me he was riding the edge of his control and I knew an explosion was bound to happen.
But it never did.
Never in front of me, at least.
