Page 48 of Chase
“Nothing about this has been fucking easy, Evie. Not one thing. And staying away from Sloane has been the fucking hardest thing I’ve ever had to do in my goddamn life. You know this.”
The second she jumps up and gets in my space, I know I’m fucked. A knows it too, and the bastard leans back onto the now empty bench and stretches his arms out, getting himself nice and fucking comfortable.
“I know that you’re a fucking idiot.” My sister only swears when she’s pissed, and for her to drop an F-bomb means she’s about to go nuclear.
“I’m trying to do the right –,” before I can finish my thought she explodes. Thank fuck no one else is out right now because we’ve got the potential to draw more of a crowd than the goddamn packed auditorium we’re sitting in front of.
“If you’re trying to say you’re trying to do the right thing, so help me God, I’ll kick your ass. Clearly that’s where your fucking head is if you think anything about this is right. No one told you not to go after her. No one told you to stay away. Martyring yourself isn’t going to take away the shit that happened to me.”
“I thought–,” I barely get the words out before she’s on me again.
“You know what I THOUGHT?! I thought you’d finally do something about how YOU feel because the only person standing in your way is YOU! Not me! Not my trauma! Not your misplaced guilt! Just you, you fucking dumbass.”Ok we’re up to three f-bombs and name calling.
Her hands are flying all over the place and Max must’ve sensed her being upset because he’s busting out the double doors and charging toward us now..
“Whatever you thought, it was fucking wrong. Like everything else you’ve been thinking and hiding behind.” She crosses her arms over her chest and Max silently stands behind her glaring at me.
“And what happens when I fuck everything up? Because that’s all I fucking seem to do when it comes to you and I just want you to be happy after everything I’ve put you through.” I suck in a breath of air after spitting all that out in one shot.
A clicks his tongue at me. Max shakes his head behind my sister. And my sister lays down the fucking law.
“How can you say you want me to be happy, but not want the same for yourself? Stop using what I’ve lived through as an excuse for you to stop living. I’m fucking over it.” She sees right through me, even when she’s rolling her eyes at me. Like she is now.
She takes a deep breath and settles herself for a moment, her exasperation with me lifting as she pleads, “Fight for yourself, I know just how hard it can be, but you have to try. I’m begging you.”
“That’s just it though, you shouldn’t have to be in a position to survive or fight. I’ve done shit that put you in harm's way… and not once, twice. Twice, Evie. Both times are on me. You shouldn’t want to fight my demons when I brought them on myself after fucking up so badly that you’ll forever have your own.”
“Stop using my trauma as a reason to treat yourself like shit. Stop feeling guilty about something you never had the power to stop from happening. They put their hands on me. Not you. You’re not the bad guy you keep telling yourself you are.” The sincerity in her words hit me like a goddamn tidal wave and I can’t hold back my tears any longer.
Any barricade I’ve put up since last fall is no match for the tsunami of feelings that crash into me as tears stream down my face. I can’t stand up on my own and reach for my sister. Her hug is like an anchor and I hold on for dear life.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, Evie,” I sob into the top of her brown-haired head.
“I forgive you, Chase, do you hear me? I forgive you. I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” her face is buried in my chest and her words hit me right in my heart. My sister may be pint-sized but she just knocked me the fuck out.
I’ve heard her say these words before, we’ve had different versions of this conversation in the past, but this right here issending splintering cracks through the walls I’ve put up. Her smaller arms squeeze me in a tight embrace and pulverize the guilt I’ve been carrying since her first attack.
I’m barely able to stand up straight as her words of forgiveness smash the weight I’ve been carrying on my shoulders to smithereens. It shakes me to my damn core.
My sister locks herself up tight and does her best to keep me upright but it’s Max who reaches over to steady me. He steers me back to the bench and I take a seat next to A who throws his outstretched arm around me for support.
B’s words sink in and set free the shackles I’ve been carrying around. My goddamn eyes are wet and I bury my face in my palms. My head is spinning.Can I really forgive myself for everything I’ve put her through? Can I take my sister’s forgiveness and start fresh? Can I really let myself be with Sloane? Can I get my game back into check?
B takes a seat on the other side of me on the bench and places her head on my shoulder. I lean mine against hers. I can feel A reach behind me as far as he can to place his hand on B. The three of us are quiet, there aren’t any words left to say right now. Max gives us some room and I can feel parts of our triplethood fuse back into place.
I wipe my face while people pour out of the auditorium. The show must be over. I can’t believe she sang me a goddamn song. ??This is me trying.??I need to try too. I want to fucking try.
“Don’t let a piece of your past dictate your whole future. Go be happy, Chase. You too, Hunter, you also deserve to be happy.” My sister’s final words might as well be the key to the cage I have my heart in because I feel it beat through my goddamn chest.
I get my ass up as the devil chants for me to find our pretty songbird. I don’t need to look back at my siblings. They know I’m on a goddamn mission now.
I push through the throngs of students, going against foot traffic. I don’t give a shit that I’m annoying the crap out of people while I shoulder my way back in the building, I need to get to her and I need to get to her right the fuck now.
I find a way backstage and ask a few of the production staff who smile at me where I can find her. I nearly run down the hallway toward the direction they point in. When I round a corner, I know two things: one, I’m in the right fucking place, and two, I know I’m fucked.
Leaning against the opposite wall in front of the door to Sloane’s dressing room is one angry-looking Davis. He looks pissed as hell while he stares me down with steely eyes.
He pushes himself off the wall with his foot that he has propped up like a flamingo. He turns his body to face me and crosses his arms over his chest, squaring me up and down.I guess we’re really doing this.
