The Struggle (The Things We Can't Change Book 2) (9 page)

In fact, right now, he’s at my mercy. There’s no one around. I could kill him if I wanted. I feel like I should have that rage. But the guilt is still there, that he’s lying here because of me, and I don’t want his death on me. I just want to be free, not to be trapped by him anymore. Because even though he’s lying here, he’s still in my life, shadowing my every move, holding me back, weighing heavy on my mind, keeping me from healing and moving on, because he wormed his way into my brain and life and I can’t dislodge him. I just want to be free of him.

“Let me go,” I say, and I realize my voice is thick with tears, my legs are wobbling. I collapse into the chair next to the bed, gripping the arms tightly even as I sit on the very edge of the seat, leaning slightly over the bed to look at Tony’s face. “Let me
go
,” I beg. “Please, just
let me go
, Tony! Get out of my head!”

Ezekiel

32

When I get to the club that night at seven to work an event, my arms and shoulders are already aching and screaming. I walk into the kitchens and give a heavy groan at the sight of the awaiting trays of drinks and hors d’oeuvres. The last thing I feel like doing right now is endlessly circling a room of rich snobs, especially since I’ve just realized that Clarissa Parker will be here tonight. Hopefully, I can avoid her.

Uncle Alex sees me and heads straight for me, and I recognize the awaiting lecture in his eyes. I had the weekend off and this is the first I’ve seen him since I got arrested again and made the deal with Dr. Parker. No doubt my dad called him and he’s ready to deliver a lecture of ‘You’re a Screw Up, Part Two.’

I’m saved by Koby and Dominic, who manage to pounce on me first. I had lain low this weekend, ignoring all calls on my phone, partly to keep from being invited to another round of trouble, and partly because I was still a little pissed at everyone for deserting me.

Again.

“Zeke, dude, what
happened
?” Koby asks, and I turn to answer him, pointedly not looking in Dominic’s direction. At least Koby wasn’t there, although that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have run away as well. He’s just not as dumb as the rest of us and doesn’t place himself in stupid situations to begin with.

“I’m sure you’ve already heard the rumors,” I say with a snort. “I got caught trying to tag the Parkers’ house, my ‘friends’ bailed,” I look meaningfully at Dominic and he looks to the ground, “Dr. Parker stepped in and offered a deal, and I had to take it or go to juvie. So now I’m a proud member of the free labor force. All summer.”

“Shit,” Koby breaths, looking startled. “I’d heard something about you working at the Parkers, but I didn’t… Is that even legal? Can Dr. Parker do that?”

“It was his house I tried to tag, and when you’re as close as he is to the police chief, you can pretty much do whatever you want,” I say, crossing my arms.

“All summer?” Koby repeats. “Like,
all
all summer?”

“Every weekday, nine to four,” I confirm.

“Are you going to
go
, every weekday, nine to four?” Dominic asks, finally getting the balls to look me in the eye.

A heavy hand lands on my left shoulder and squeezes, hard and with lethal warning. “He better, if he doesn’t want to be sent away,” Uncle Alex says in a deceptively pleasant voice. “Now, you all better grab a tray and get out there, and don’t breathe a word about any of this to anybody, and I better not see you trying to chitchat about it while you’re on the dining room floor. Understood?”

We all nod meekly—Alex is bigger than all of us and, more importantly, holds the fate of our jobs in his hands—and we grab our trays before hustling out to the dining room. I don’t even know what the benefit is for, it’s the kind that is more of a social event than people trying help someone. Sure enough, I scan the room as I enter and I see both Clarissa Parker and her son, Hunter, standing on the other side of the room.

I have a flash of last week, when Hunter and some of Evie’s old friends had cornered her in the dining room. I wasn’t sure what had possessed me to step in, why I’d done it. Why I’d even stepped in two months ago when I saw her with Tony. Maybe it’s because in some weird way, Evie reminds me of Cindy. But then again, they couldn’t be more different, so that wasn’t quite right. Cindy was bright and happy, vibrant and full of life, whereas Evie is still hiding, still depressed and looks trapped, the life and happiness gone from her eyes.

I think about it as I perform the mind numbing task of walking around the room. Finally, when I head out with my third tray, it hits me. It’s because Evie makes me
feel
the same way I did about Cindy. Those surges of protectiveness, actually caring what happens to her, empathy for her and her situation. And I know that is dangerous.

I’m distracted from these thoughts, and almost grateful for it, when Hunter, Evie’s stepbrother, steps directly in my path. I come to a hard stop and only two whole years of practice gives me the skill to keep my tray of champagne flutes balanced. The same two years help me keep my expression smooth and blank as I offer the tray to him, and he takes a glass and smiles at me.

“Evening, Quain. How are you?”

“Just fine, sir, thank you for asking,” I reply with perfect politeness. He has two friends behind him, men about his age that I recognize by sight alone as long-time members. “If I may…” I gesture with my free hand and start to make my way around them.

“I didn’t know you did yard work on the side, Ezekiel,” Hunter calls after me. “When you’re done at my stepfather’s house, maybe you’ll come do my condo in Boston? The maintenance crew there really doesn’t have your passion for menial labor.”

His friends laugh along with him, but I just let it roll right off of me. They think they’re getting a blow in, but they’ve overestimated just how much I care about their opinion. Besides, I heard much more insulting comments and rumors at school right after the debacle with Tony. My favorite is the one where I’m wanted in California for three counts of statutory rape and that’s why I moved to Ohio in the first place – never mind the fact that I’ve lived and gone to school here in Grandview all my life. The ignorance of people really astounds me at times.

I manage to get through the rest of the evening without speaking to anyone else, and I feel an overwhelming sense of relief when I finally untie my apron and am walking out with Koby so he can give me a ride home. Dominic is already gone, having worked prep for the event instead of clean up, and he got off several hours ago. I’m aching even more than before, muscles startled by the unfamiliar use of shovels and rakes, and I just want to get home to pop some ibuprofen and sleep, even though I know it will be worse in the morning.

My relief is short lived, however, when we near Koby’s car and see Cameron parked next to it, leaning against his own ride.

“Fuck,” I groan. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

“What are you going to say? What do you think
he’s
going to say? I don’t want to get involved in all of this, Zeke,” Koby warns as we reach the cars.

Cameron pushes off of his car and comes to stand in front of us, crossing his arms over his chest and grinning at me. The light in his eyes reminds me suddenly of Tony, and I’m aware of similarities between the two that I never really thought about before. If someone pushed the right buttons, I have the eerie feeling that Cameron could snap and be just as crazy and berserk as Tony was.

“Quain, I hear you caught the mother of all lucky breaks.”

“Yeah, no thanks to everyone running off and leaving me to take the fall. Again,” I reply, crossing my own arms. Despite remaining calm throughout work, I’m feeling on edge again. Such close proximity to Evie and thinking about her and Cindy is giving me flashes of emotion that are by no means welcome. I can’t paint to get them out, can’t use that outlet, and now the only way I know to get rid of them is by seeking out that same flash of adrenaline. Riling Cameron seems a good enough remedy at the moment.

I see that crazy light burn brighter in Cameron’s beady dark eyes, and he takes a step closer to Koby and me. His arms fall away from his chest so he can clench his fists and let them dangle loosely at his sides.

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“You heard me,” I say, even as Koby gives me an incredulous look. “I had to take the fall when everyone else chickened out and ran.”

“Calling me a coward, Quain?” He steps even closer, but I don’t back down one bit, don’t even blink.

“Pretty sure I called you a chicken, not a coward, Fuller.”

Cameron’s eyes widen and his mouth opens quickly, but Koby steps between us, both arms outstretched, not quite touching either of our chests but enforcing a barrier.

“All right, all right. Can we all act our age for at least five freaking minutes?” he bites out, sounding genuinely irritated. “Zeke, you shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Cameron, you shouldn’t have run. Now, I’m tired and I want to go home. Can you pick this up another time?”

I finally look away, backing down for Koby’s sake and making sure Cameron sees so he thinks he’s won. Sure enough, his lips part, revealing crooked teeth in a cruel leer of a smile.

“Whatever, Phillips. I actually was going to offer you a ride, Zeke. To my place. A couple of us are getting together, and Tessa will be there. You could come out with us again. I swear, we’ll have your back this time.”

“Can’t,” I say, and my voice brooks no argument, even though I know Cameron will make one. “Too close of a call. I need to lay low for a while.”

“Lay low… with Evie Parker?” Cameron asks, and laughs. “I’d like to lay low on that too, even if she’s already been used a few times.”

My anger flares violently to life, and it takes everything that I have not to jump at him, the insane reaction so strong that it scares me a little bit. I know Koby can tell that I’ve tensed up, because he’s immediately there, pushing at my back, forcing me to take a few steps toward his car.

“See you around, Cameron,” Koby says, still pushing and nudging me toward the car.

“I’ll call you this weekend when things have settled down, Quain!” Cameron calls as he gets into his car. “You can come over then!” He gets into his car and is gone, tires squealing as he leaves the parking lot.

I get into the car and slam the door closed, trying to take calming breaths. They have no effect on me, and I’m trembling as Koby gets into the car and starts it up.

“Fuck him!” I shout suddenly, and punch the dash, so hard I’m surprised I don’t set off the airbag.

“I know, man, I know,” Koby agrees quietly. He’s sitting calmly in the driver’s seat, eyes on the road. Not much fazes Koby, or at least, when it does, he’s good about not showing it. “You’re going to have to be careful, Zeke. I’m serious. He’s obsessed with having you under his thumb, and if you keep telling him no because you’re trying to lay low, which I agree you
should
be doing, Cameron’s going to see it as you baiting him.”

“Nice,” I say bitingly. “What a nice way to say I’m caught between a huge ass rock and a freaking hard place. Thanks, Koby.”

“You’re welcome,” he replies pleasantly. “I’m just saying, Zeke. Watch out. Cameron’s crazy. I doubt he’ll make it through the summer without being caught doing something or other and being sent away again. Let’s just hope it happens soon.”

I find I can’t agree more, but I know that this would require me being lucky. And luck is something I have never had on my side.

Evangeline

33

I’m in Dr. Gottlieb’s office again, circling her room because I feel too anxious to actually sit down, too full of nervous energy to be still. I stand before her bookshelves, trail my fingers over the complete collection of
Darkest Legacy
novels she has on her shelf. I smile grimly, thinking the legacy I’m beginning to leave behind is none too light either.

“Evie?”

I whirl around at the sound of my name, having gotten so lost in my thoughts I forgot where I was. “Yes? Sorry, I was just… thinking.”

That’s the nice thing about Dr. Gottlieb. She gets it that sometimes, I just get tired of talking. Sometimes, I just want to sit or pace, for as long as ten minutes, and gather my thoughts and questions. She’s content to let me puzzle things out and take my time. Once, early on before I really knew her very well, we spent an entire session just reading books from her shelves. Some might call it a waste of a session, but Dr. Gottlieb understands something very important; trust has to be established before any progress can be made. It was only after that quiet, wordless session that I had been able to spill everything to her and begin to move forward. Though I feel there is less and less of that as time goes on, instead of the other way around.

“Something has been bothering you,” Dr. Gottlieb says quietly, her eyes intent on me. “I can tell. Do you want to talk about it?”

It’s Friday, four days since I argued with Zeke and went to visit Tony at the hospital. Since then, I’ve been fighting with myself every single day, every hour, trying to convince myself to tell Dr. Gottlieb everything at our next session. I waffle back and forth, scared to tell, not wanting to tell, ashamed to tell, too angry with myself to tell. The reasons keep changing, but it always comes back to the same result; not telling, because I just can’t. At least, not everything.