Page 32 of Sticks and Stones (Shadow Valley U)
My hand flies to my heart. “You scared me, Evander. Jeez—” I pause as I look at his hands. “Are those…”
My words trail just as quickly as my fear.
He walks over to the table after turning the kitchen light on and places the Ziploc bag of chocolate chip cookies on top. Then he swishes past me and opens the fridge, pulling out the milk before grabbing two cups. He nudges my shoulder. “Sit.”
I shuffle over to the table, knowing very well that Evan isn’t going to allow me to hide behind silence. His mom knew when not to ask questions. Evan doesn’t care for my independence.
“Did you go all the way home to get these…for me?”
It feels like a chocolate chip cookie is stuck in my throat, but I refuse to cry again. I sit in silence as Evan pours us both some milk and unzips the bag. “Mom met me halfway.”
A soft laugh escapes me, and I shake my head, pulling my knees up to my chin again as I rest my back against the kitchen chair. “You did not have to do that.” I pull my gaze away from the cookies. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her your ex was being a dick, and you needed her famous pick-me-up.”
He shoves an entire cookie in his mouth as I nibble on the one in my hand.
Once he swallows, he taps the table with his knuckle and shoots me a look. “Why were you crying, Wren?”
My eyes dart to my bedroom door, also known as the hall closet, and a lie climbs from my mouth. “I was just frustrated that Stone—”
“I went four towns over to get these cookies for you, and you’re going to sit here and lie? Not a chance.”
Shit.
It isn’t that I don’t trust Evan. I trust him more than anyone. But I’m not going to pile my trauma on his shoulders.Again.
“Wren.”
“My dad called, okay?” My feet stomp to the floor in frustration, and I shove the cookie away.
When I peek back at Evan, his eyebrows are raised in worry. “Must be bad if you’re turning down Mom’s cookies. What did he want?”
I sigh. “The usual. Money.”
“But you were crying.”
Please don’t remind me.
“You never cry, Wren.”
I cried because the way my father spoke to me felt more final than before. There have been many threats over the years, but this time is different. He’s desperate, and if the past is a window to the future, I know he’ll do anything to save himself.
“I’m fine, Evan,” I lie and force myself to smile. “And I do cry. Just not in front of you.”
“Liar.” Evan flicks a crumb at me.
I roll my eyes.
“When was the last time you talked to him?”
“Right before he went to prison.”
Evan looks surprised, and I know he wants to ask more questions.
“Was it the photo? Did it push him to contact you?”
I nod and debate telling him everything, but the air around us grows tense. The skin of my exposed arms shows my chills. Evan’s gaze moves behind me, and I know without looking that Stone is lingering in the shadows.