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“I mean, I get it. It sucks, man. We miss her, too, but she made her choice,” he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.
I tried not to rip his arm off for touching me. I had never wanted to hurt one of my boys, but I didn’t need them reminding me that Everly didn’t choose me.
“Take a hit off this and try to relax,” Joker said, holding out the blunt.
I shook my head.
I didn’t want to smoke. I didn’t want to drink. Hell, I was barely eating. I had never felt so broken in all my life. Not when my father handed me over for drug payment. Not when my parents chose drugs over me. Nothing had ever hurt so badly.
I raced twice, losing both races and five-grand. I didn’t care. Money no longer mattered to me—the dream of one day owning a garage of my own no longer mattered. I only wanted Everly, but after what she had done to me, I would never let myself fall for her shit again.
“I’m getting out of here,” I said, stepping away from the guys and going to my bike.
I climbed on and pushed my helmet over my head. Saint followed me, pausing beside my bike.
“Are you going to be okay?” he asked.
I nodded as I cranked the engine and revved it, drowning out the rest of the world.
I left the city, flying down the back-country roads at dangerous speeds. I drove for hours, ending up at Everly’s mom's house and hoping her boyfriend would be there so I could kill him to get some of my rage out.
No one was there.
I started back toward my house, and I drove by Zada’s place on the way home to see if the Mustang was parked in the driveaway, but it wasn’t. Everly was either at work, or she was with whoever he was. I didn’t go by Smiley’s to see if the car was there because I didn’t want to know.
Instead, I turned into my driveaway, finding Junior’s car parked there waiting on me. He was sitting on the front porch smoking a joint, and when I stepped up to him, he held it out for me to take a hit.
I didn’t.
Instead, I walked around him and went inside. He followed me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, tossing my keys on the table.
“Saint called and said you were all fucked-up over some pussy. I had to come over and see for myself.”
He chuckled, and for the first time in our lives, I wanted to put my fist through his face.
“Fuck you, man. I’m fine. Just tired.”
I went toward my bedroom and flipped on the light as I sat on my bed and tugged my boots from my feet.
“Your room is a fucking mess. You need to clean this shit,” he said from my doorway.
“You came. You saw me. As you can see, I’m fine. You can go now.”
I wanted to be alone, but he didn’t listen.
Instead, he moved into my room, picking at my things. He paused in front of my mirror, taking in the picture of Everly and me at prom.
“I never knew you went to prom,” he said, plucking the picture from the mirror and looking at it closer. “Oh fuck,” he said. “I know her.”
I paused, looking up at him, sure he was wrong.
“No, you don’t.”
He was mistaken.
He laughed. “No, for real. I do know her. I was fucking her mom. Her name’s Everly, right?”
