Page 118 of The Wrong Side Of Us

A driver next to us slammed on their brakes as Damian swerved into their lane.

Dread coated every fiber of my being as I started to understand Evelyn’s desperation last night. My jaw hardened, my grip tightening around the phone in my hands. In silence, Damian tried to hurry and get to Evie while Derek continued narrating the unknown story about Evie’s life.

***

Evelyn

I blinked a couple of times. Those few seconds were the ones that seemed to matter. Mrs. Nicholson pushed past me and into my small home, the air chilling as she stepped inside.

How did she know where I lived?

Why the hell was she here?

“It’s a nice place that you have here,” she said, smiling at me, her now-black hair up in a ponytail. Her eyes seemed…off. Her expression in general—it was as if she wasn’t all there.

“I don’t understand what you’re doing here,” I replied, analyzing the all-black clothes she wore—not suspicious at all.

“Do you not know what day it is, dear?” she asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

I glanced over to the coffee table in the middle of the living room. If only I could get to it.

“You’re not answering my questions. Clearly, you didn’t learn how to be a good host from your mother.”

I expected to feel pain or even wounded, but the adrenaline in my veins didn’t allow it.

“Honestly, she wasn’t really my mother, and I didn’t learn a lot from her, which is a good thing,” I stated, for the first time saying the words out loud. It felt good.

I felt relieved.

Yes, it hurt, but it was a weight lifted off my shoulders, like I could breathe a little bit just by admitting it.

“What a bitchy thing to say,” she sneered, her lips curling with fury.

Scoffing, I crossed my arms over my chest, thankful that I wore one of Nathan’s shirts and that my belly wasn’t too noticeable. “Some would say inviting yourself into someone else’s home is quite a bitchy move as well,” I countered.

I could pretend I wasn’t scared, act like I wasn’t the least bit terrified, but my heart was racing, and my palms were sweaty. She was losing it.

“I always knew your family was shitty,” she hissed, eyeing me with disgust. “But Josh just had to get involved with you, and you caused all this mess.”

I took a calculated step forward, thinking carefully of my next move. “Your son was a pervert. He tried to rape me, and then he recorded me—”

“With your brother-in-law,” she spat. “You’re a disgrace to your family.”

The words hurt, but I refused to back down. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“It’s Josh’s birthday today,” Mrs. Nicholson stated, her eyes turning furious. I inhaled, surprised. Her gaze was threatening, but my fists balled up to my sides. If I could catch her off guard…

“Why don’t you just go to the prison to celebrate? I’m sure the inmates are loving celebrating the type of way Josh likes.” I smirked at her troubled expression, but her anger was stronger. Briefly, her gaze shifted, settling on my belly.

It’s now or never.

As she raised her face, I swung at her, my fist connecting with her cheekbone immediately. A shocked gasp left her lips, and in an instant, I punched her again, watching her stumble backwards.

I stepped back, needing to get out of there. Everything clicked. The random calls, Derek’s confusion.

The lies.

The sadness.

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