Page 18 of Colton
“What are you doing?” I ask, suspicious of his sudden excitement.
“Texting Maverick. He can get this apartment transferred into your name by Monday. Then you don’t have to worry about getting kicked out.”
“Hit send on that text Colt, and my daughter and I walk out of here tonight.”
He freezes. “You would rather go back to struggling than let us give you an apartment.”
“Yes,” I say, my words final.
He locks the screen and slides the phone back into his pocket. The muscle in his jaw jumps.
“I see you’re upset. I get it. But I would never turn over mine and my daughter’s future to a man I only met today. I’m here because I have a history with Holly. But we’re not friends, not really. She was hiding her entire life from me. We could have been friends if we’d had more time, but it was more important that she escape. And I am a very different person now than I was two years ago. So I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I can’t jump up and down with joy like Mia and set aside all of my worries.”
His eyes, his voice, everything about him flattens. “Right. You’re right, of course. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pushes to his feet. “I’ll leave you to get settled in…I ah, well, you have that interview at the hospital tomorrow. The head of HR is excited to meet you. If you still want to go, we’ll need to leave at eleven.”
Then he turns, and without a backward glance, walks away. It shouldn’t hurt. It’s exactly what I expected him to do. What I wanted him to do. But it still does.
Maybe I shouldn’t have been so honest.
8
COLTON
Makeup skills would come in handy right about now. I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking, going to the fights last night. Usually, after a few fights, I’d be settled down, but it didn’t work last night. So I fought a fourth guy, then a fifth.
I couldn’t shake the look on Evie’s face. I can’t decide if I’m pissed at her for not accepting my gift - gifts - or not. Because that’s what the apartment really was, a gift. I spent two months getting it ready for her and Mia. I wanted them to like it so badly. So yeah, I am angry she didn’t see it that way.
I can’t do anything about the black eye or my split lip, and if I keep staring in this mirror, Evie’s going to be late for her interview. If she’s even going.
It’s fucking maddening to have all the resources to help someone, but they just won’t accept it. I’ve been thinking about what she said all night, and I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it. I’ve had my brothers for over twenty years. We are a team, a unit. We all take turns stepping up and helping each other. Giving and accepting help is just the way we operate.
But I remember what it was like to watch my mom struggle. She didn’t have anyone to depend on, but I have to think that she would have accepted any kind of help, for our sake. Evie’s here, so clearly she has accepted our help, to some degree.
I try to put myself in her place, imagining that I’m in a dead-end job, living in a dangerous neighborhood, all while raising a kid. Then a rich motherfucker comes along and offers to make everything better…fuck. That sounds like the start of a movie where the mom disappears and the kid is sold on the black market.
So maybe I get it…a little.
I punch the button to Evie’s floor, then zip up my hoodie. I think about pulling the hood up to hide my battered face, but there’s really no point. She’ll see it, eventually. It’s not the first time I’ve looked like this, and the way things are going, it won’t be the last. That tension is riding me even now.
Evie’s door swings open a minute after my knock. She looks better this morning, the bags under her eyes smaller, her skin not so pale. Her eyes widen when she gets a look at my face, but she doesn’t ask, just opens the door to let me in. I step inside and stand next to the door.
She’s wearing a white button-up shirt and black pants, both too big on her now. I can almost imagine the way she filled them out before she lost all the weight. She would have been…juicy.
“I wasn’t sure you would show up this morning.” She says quietly, her eyes shuttered.
I shrug. “Nothing’s changed, Evie. We promised to help. That’s what we’re going to do. It’s up to you whether you accept it or not.” I look at my watch. “We’ll need to go in five minutes if you want to get there on time.”
She hesitates, studying me again. I make sure I don’t show her anything. I don’t enjoy wearing a mask, or hiding from people, but I am not going to let her see my frustration or confusion. It’s not about me, anyway. It doesn’t matter what I feel or think.
“We’re ready, just let me grab Mia…can you watch her while I’m in the interview?”
“Of course,” I say with a small smile.
A drowsy Mia insists on touching every bruise, every cut on my face, as we ride the elevator down, and I hate it. I hate the confusion on her face, and I hate the judgment on Evie’s.
I am such a fuckup.
I lead them off the elevator, clicking the locks on the hummer. Mia’s joyful shriek, “yellow” makes me smile, splitting the scab on my lip open.
