TWENTY-FOUR HOURS. TWENTY-FOUR HOURS SINCE I touched Evan’s sweet little body. Twenty-four hours, and my dick still hasn’t gone down. After leaving her high and dry—or wet, technically—I came back to the bunkhouse, jumped into the shower, and took the edge off before Eros, Tres, and Lathan got back. I pictured what it would be like to slide inside Evan, to feel her wrapped around me, as I fisted my cock. I pictured the way those defiant eyes flashed up to mine. The way her chest rose and fell when I fucked her with my fingers. The way the blush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks when she came. And when my cum spilled onto the shower floor, it was to the sound of my name on her lips.
Evan took her sweet ass time coming back. Her pride took a hit, so I expected as much. She strikes me as the kind of girl who likes to lick her wounds in private. I also didn’t bother to shut the ride off, leaving her to figure it out. Just as I was going to retrieve her, she came through the door and went straight to the shower without a word. When she came out, she was wearing those damn silk pajamas again, and she slid onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her body and up to cover her face, and went to sleep.
We haven’t spoken since. Today was slough day, so we spent all day getting our shit packed up before we head out to Oregon. Even trapped in the trailer together, we’ve still managed to avoid each other. She hasn’t so much as made eye contact with me. I heard her talking to her mom, I think, at some point, but other than that, she’s kept to herself with her headphones stuffed on her ears, laptop propped up on her lap.
Now, it’s nearly midnight, and we still haven’t reached Oregon. Eros offered his bunk to Evan for a night, since he was driving the trailer with the bikes, and she jumped at the opportunity. The unreasonable side of me hates the fact that she’s in his bed. That his sheets will smell like her. Even worse, I hate the idea of Eros being her fucking knight in shining armor. I thought about offering her my bed a thousand times—thought about telling her to sleep with me in it—but I knew it was dangerous territory. Just like I knew being alone with her would backfire.
All fucking week, I made it my mission to make myself scarce. She even started appearing in my daily nightmares. Suddenly, my dreams about dying turned into dreams of Evan dying. Space. It was imperative. I watched her from afar when I could. I kept tabs on her through a select few people I could trust. But spending too much time with her was a bad idea. My plan was working, too. Until the jackass who’s been creating chaos among the carnival decided to slash Jessup’s big rig tires the night before I asked Evan to come to the show. It’s probably some stupid, bored jointee trying to shake things up, but I wasn’t taking any chances of Evan being alone in case the culprit decided petty crimes weren’t enough, hence bribing her to come to our show.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the crimes being committed. It started last month. Little things here and there. Someone’s money would get stolen. Equipment and other belongings would go missing. Trailers were being vandalized. And now we can add slashed tires to the list. The only common denominator is that it’s never touched us four. The Sons of Eastlake. For whatever reason, we’re never the target. The obvious conclusion would be that it’s one of us. I look over to Lathan, who’s laughing as Eros lays down a pair of Kings, like he’s got something better up his sleeve. No, it can’t be Lathan. He’s had a stick up his ass, but he’s not evil. Plus, his poker face is shit. If it’s not one of us, then my next guess would be that it’s someone who fears us. Someone playing pranks but knows better than to cross us.
“Full house,” Lathan says triumphantly, spreading his cards out onto the table. Eros utters a curse, throwing the rest of his cards down as Lathan grabs the crumpled-up pile of bills in the middle of the table. “Those are some pretty gnarly hickies Evan’s got. Your handiwork?” Lathan asks off-handedly from his spot at the table. I hear the accusation in his tone, and I’m immediately on guard. It hasn’t always been strained like this between us. Something about Evan gets under his skin, and I don’t have the first fucking clue as to why.
“You like?” I ask, keeping my tone unaffected. “I worked hard on them.”
“Why not just piss a circle around her to mark your territory? It’d be subtler,” Tres chimes in. Eros laughs, running his hand over his facial hair after he takes a swig from his beer bottle.
“I was bored. She was there. We had a little fun. That’s it.” Eros and I share a look, but he’s smart enough not to say anything. Lathan, on the other hand, must have a death wish.
“So, you wouldn’t care if I had a turn?” Lathan asks, watching me closely for a reaction.
“Trust me. You don’t want a turn. She’s got a hot body, but she doesn’t have the first clue how to use it. It was about as sexy as a root canal.” It couldn’t be further from the truth. She’s self-assured. Assertive. Insolent, even. But when I touch her, I see another side to her. Something more vulnerable. Almost timid. The more I touch her, the softer she gets. I want to make her melt for me.
Once again, Eros seems to detect the lies, his smile not reaching his eyes, but Lathan snorts out a laugh. “Those are the best kind. You get to teach them. Mold them into perfection.”
I clench my teeth so hard I think they’re going to crack under the pressure. Forcing my jaw to relax, I shrug, indifferent. “I don’t have time for little girls.” I look over to Eros’ bed where she sleeps. The curtain over his bunk is closed, but I can see through the gap between the curtain and the wall. Her hands are tucked in close to her chest, her lips slightly parted with a strand of that blonde hair stuck to the bottom one. She’s somehow innocent and experienced. Pure and sinful. She’s a walking contradiction.
I tear my eyes away from her. Something about Evan has hope stirring in the pit of my stomach, but it isn’t comforting. It’s an ominous feeling. Hope is a dangerous thing when you’re a McAllister.
“HAVE YOU HEARD ANYTHING FROM Dad?” I ask my mom, holding the phone to one ear and plugging my finger into the other one as I try to find somewhere quieter to talk. I needed out of the bunkhouse after being stuck in there for the better part of fifteen hours, having to pretend I didn’t hear Sebastian tell everyone how unsexy I was. Having to pretend I didn’t have to hold back the tears that wanted so badly to fall. But I didn’t cry about my dad, and as much as it stung, I wasn’t going to cry about Sebastian either. He didn’t deserve my tears. Tell that to the pit in your stomach.
“Of course, I have, but it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with. What have you and Savannah been up to?”
I roll my eyes as I dip behind one of the trailers. I really don’t want to know what Sav’s up to. “Not much. It’s been quiet. Uneventful. Tell me about Dad,” I try again. Mom sighs heavily.
“He threw a tantrum, which was to be expected. He’s refusing to get help, but these things take time.”
“And if he doesn’t?” I say after a pause, asking the question I’ve been too afraid to voice out loud.
Another pause. Another heavy sigh. “I don’t know what to say, Evangeline.”
“There you are,” a deep voice says from the other line. It sounds close. Too close. I hear muffled voices, like my mom has cov
ered the speaker with her palm. I pull back the phone, staring at the screen as if it just physically assaulted me.
“Evangeline?” I hear my mom say. I bring my phone back to my ear. “I have to go. Call you next week, okay?”
“Mom, who is that?” But the line goes dead before I’ve even uttered the last word. “Awesome. Just fucking super,” I say out loud, kicking the RV’s tire.
“Everything all right?”
My head jerks up to see Lathan standing there, watching me with his cold stare. “Fine,” I snap, in no mood to deal with him. I’ve given up on trying to get him to like me.
“Sure seems that way.”
“Yeah, well, if I had an issue, you’d be the last one I’d confide in.”
“Fair enough.” He shrugs. “But I’m not your enemy.”