Page 19 of Wrath
Damn. He shut his eyes to ride out the pain. He guessed he deserved that after the way he’d treated Evan over the past few years. Wyatt expected more violence, but… no. There was no wrath emanating from him. It was…
Evan laughed, eyes wide with mirth as he looked down at Wyatt’s palm. “You fucking broke the knife, bro.”
What?
Wyatt tugged his hand from his brother. His flesh was a little pink where the knife had hit, but otherwise picture perfect. Evan huffed another laugh and threw the broken knife at Wyatt. It bounced off his chest and slid to the table.
“Look what your skin did to my knife.”
Wyatt darted a worried glance around. A few patrons scowled at him but, thankfully, the dining room was virtually empty now lunch was over. An old woman sat in the corner playing suduko, and a family of four paid for their meal at the cash register. The two young children pretended to be ninjas between their parents’ legs, and the parents couldn’t be happier. For a moment, Wyatt forgot about Evan’s outburst and got caught on the happy family. Rosy cheeks. Chubby hands. Laughter. Not a care in the world.
Not for someone like him.
He turned back to Evan and made a waving down motion with his hand.Keep it down.
Evan snorted, still laughing.
Wyatt stood, but Evan stopped him. “Wait. Wait, I’m sorry. Hell”—he scrubbed his face—“It wasn’t meant to go like this. Fuck, I had a speech rehearsed and everything.”
You did?
Wyatt eased himself back into the chair.
“Yeah, I was going to come in and ask how you’ve been, maybe shoot the shit for a bit, ease into it, you know? But the truth is, we miss you, bro. It’s not right that you’re not home. I mean, I can see what might be tempting you to stay, but… When are you coming back?”
Wyatt’s heart clenched. He stood, crossed to the serving counter and retrieved a pen and notebook, then went back to Evan.
How did you find me?He wrote and turned the pad to Evan.
“You serious?” Evan fidgeted in his seat, then lowered his voice. “You left a trail of bodies across the country. Weren’t exactly incognito.”
Nah. That’s not it.
“Fine. I had a few dreams, okay?”
Dreams?
Part of the reason Evan knew Sara had been lying to them was that he dreamed seeing her in another life. At the time it was a crazy idea. Sara was dead, or so they’d thought.
“How’s your throat?” Evan asked.
How the fuck do you think it is?he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged.
“Can you speak?”
Wyatt shook his head.
“Have you tried?”
A pause, then… another shake.
Evan pulled out a folded piece of paper from his jeans pocket. He unfolded it and peeled a few sheets apart to reveal a group of sketches. On the top of the pile was a picture of Wyatt in the Pierogi Palace kitchen. Alek was there, and so was Roksana. Even Vooyek in the corner.
And there it was, staring Wyatt in the face—black and white evidence of how he’d been so wrong about Evan. His psychic dreams were obviously real, there was no denying it.
I’m a dickhead.
Evan tapped the kitchen picture. “I drew that a few months ago. We thought to give you space, but then last night I drew this.” He pulled out a sheet from underneath the sketch. This drawing had a completely different tone. Dark, scratchy lines that covered the entire page. It took a while for Wyatt to understand. When it came to him, his blood cooled. That wasn’t right. Fuck, no.
