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Barely Breathing (The Breathing #2)(152)

By:Rebecca Donovan


"Please," he begged again.

"I won't," I whispered. "I just need some time."

"I understand," he replied, bowing his head. "I'll go. But I'll hear from you... when you're ready?"

I nodded, evading his eyes. I turned away, my shoulders bowed, crushed with guilt. I continued past Evan and Sara, who were standing on the porch, watching our every move. But I knew they hadn't heard a single word we'd said.

Sara followed me inside while Evan waited for Jonathan to back out of the driveway.

"How'd he even know where you live?" Sara asked Evan when he closed the door.

"I don't know," Evan replied, his eyes following me carefully.

"It's not difficult to find anything in Weslyn," I found myself saying, "You just have to ask." They peered at me curiously.

"What was that about?" Sara demanded as I moved to leave the room. "He seemed so upset."

"He was there," Evan said before I could utter a word. My heart skipped a beat, wondering how he knew.

"What?" Sara spun toward him. She flipped her eyes from Evan to me. I looked down. That's all she needed. "He was. Why?"

"Why did you lie to the police?" Evan demanded on top of her question.



       
         
       
        

I took a deep breath and began. "The guy was my mother's drug dealer. I didn't want the police to know." I skirted my eyes between them for a reaction. They appeared surprised, but remained quiet. I shifted my gaze back to the floor and continued. "He beat her pretty bad because she owed him money. I found her when I went to the house to get my soccer shirt. I ended up having to take her to the hospital. Jonathan found out and didn't want me to go back to the house, but I figured the guy would be gone. I was wrong." I paused, deciding how to continue. "Jonathan showed up, and fought the guy off."

"That's what I thought. I saw his knuckles," Evan said with a slight edge to his voice. "So, he protected you?" I raised my head, struck by his tone. I nodded and pain shot across his face, knowing Jonathan had done what he'd vowed to do―to protect me.

"So why did he come by here?" Sara asked, breaking our tense connection.

"I ran out," I explained quickly. I couldn't tell them how badly Jonathan had beaten the guy, and that I thought he might be dead. Or the true reason I left in such a rush. I took a quick breath and repeated, "He just wanted to know that I was okay."

"That's it?" Evan asked skeptically, examining me. My face flamed up, fearing he'd seen more between us. I nodded, unable to hold his gaze for more than a second. "I know you explained that you and Jonathan are friends and that you can talk to him about Rachel. I get it. But why do I get the feeling he knows more than I do?" His voice became stronger as he spoke, more agitated. I opened my mouth instinctively to defend Jonathan, but stopped when I saw the challenging look on Evan's face. "Then the way he was out there... The way he was looking at you..." I shifted my eyes. He released a breath, and lowered his voice. "I'm sorry, Emma, but I just don't trust him."

And maybe he had good reason not to.





40. Honest Truth



No matter how hard I tried not to, I kept thinking about what I'd witnessed. His dark eyes were so compelling and trusting, yet instantly cold and hard. There was more hidden in their darkness than pain and torture. More than anger and loathing.

It seemed impossible that the same man who stayed up with me in the middle of the night, laughing at infomercials, was capable of bludgeoning someone into a grotesque, bloody mess. I shuddered at the remembrance, hugging the pillow against me tighter.

"What are you thinking about?"

I turned my head with a start. Evan stood in the doorway of the sun room, the warm rays lighting up the breathtaking angles of his face. Darkness wasn't hidden in his steel blue eyes. The disturbing thoughts were instantly brushed away at the sight of him. 

"Hi," I greeted happily. "How was school?" I closed the book that was resting on my lap and set it on the wicker table beside me with the pillow I was mangling.

"The same," he shrugged, sitting down and resting my legs across his lap. "How was your day?"

"I helped stuff envelopes," I shared. "So exciting."

Evan laughed. He leaned toward me and ran his fingers over the vanishing bruise along my jaw, inspecting it. Then he leaned a little closer and gently kissed me.

"Aren't you supposed to be at practice?" I suddenly remembered when he pulled away.