Page 70 of Fire Island
Six fucking years she’s been living with this. I rake my hands through my hair, letting choppy bits of air grace my lungs and burn.
If I ever find those motherfuckers, I will take immense pleasure in snuffing out their last goddamn breath. And their torment will be long, drawn out, and painful as sin.
Nineteen
EVIE
Isit across the table from the woman who destroyed Cal’s life. And she has the audacity to smile some fake-as-hell smile at me while we wait for Iris to bring the coffee. Em and Cal are out the back seeing to Iris’s hot water system, which she says has been playing up.
In truth, I think he’s procrastinating. Ava didn’t come back from the dead for no reason. To think she has the balls to waltz right into Iris’s café, thinking whatever she wants from the McCrearys wouldn’t do damage.
“You don’t look like Cal’s type,” Ava says with a sniff as she tilts her head up, looking down her nose at me.
I purse my lips together, grinding my molars down tight as a beat passes. “With all due respect, I don’t think you can comment on that.”
A huffy breath escapes her lips as she moves her attention to outside the window somewhere.
Her rigid posture barely moves as Iris sets coffees down in front of us before returning to gather the rest. Em appears by her side a moment later. He leans down close, whispering into her ear.
Is Cal okay? Are we leaving, like we should have the second we stepped into this ambush?
As Cal walks through the door to the diner from Iris’s living quarters, I see he’s resolute. He wants answers. That’s entirely understandable.
Hell, he deserves more than that if you ask me.
I give him my best smile, and he winks at me, running a grease rag through his hands before tossing it into the trash and moving to the sink to wash up.
My heart rattles in my chest.
He’s braver than me.
My nerves are set to detonate at any second. The long list of things Ava could say or want flips over in my mind like one of those cartoon flip-books from the nineties my dad collected.
I realize, for the first time since Ava appeared, Cal may still have feelings for this woman. They have history. They spent some of their best days together.
Wild and free.
Completely opposite to anything I’ve ever been.
I swallow past the emotion closing my throat. Hands firm around my mug, I take a tentative sip. It tastes bitter. I can’t help the surge of crimson flushing my neck as Ava studies me from across the table.
I’ve never felt so small at such an inappropriate time in all my life.
She should be the one with her tail between her legs after the stunt she’s pulled. But apparently, she’s fine with the way things are playing out.
“Have you known Iris and Callum long?” She sips her coffee, wincing like it’s warm vinegar before she sets it back on the table.
“About a year,” I hear myself reply. The words are meek. Like an apology I’m too chickenshit to say out loud.
I’ve never felt like such a flake as I do now.
I clear my throat, rummaging for something more solid to say, but Iris drops into her seat with a tray of three coffees. Em sits on her right, leaving the last chair for Cal. Between Ava and me.
Awesome.
Em shoots me an encouraging smile, but I can’t reciprocate. I’m lost in the woe-is-me vicious hamster wheel of my own head. It’s all I can do to glance at Cal when he drops onto his seat. His hand squeezes my leg under the table before his gaze moves to Ava. His hand slips away, and he picks up his coffee and takes a long sip.
Oh god.
