Heart So Hollow (Dire Wolves Book 1), page 67
And anyone could’ve figured this out, if only they’d bothered to check. Emily exists somewhere, she’s just not been found yet. But I won’t leave her behind—we won’t leave her behind. She’s part of this now.
I never wanted to admit how similar Bowen and I are; irreverent, conceited assholes who do what we want, when we want, and never stop no matter who gets in our way. I was weak and broken enough in college for him to get in my head and take Brett from me, too, before he even knew she existed. But things happen when you spend years in relative solitude. You have space to focus. You have time to build up enough venom in your heart to devote your life to destroying one person while saving another.
Fortunately, Bowen gets in his own way without my help. He’s just as cocky as me, but with a worse temper, which unfortunately makes him impulsive at the most inconvenient times. It was a real Hail Mary moment for him to show Brett my mugshot and assume she wouldn’t dig too deep. If she had, he would’ve had a few more questions to answer.
But it takes all I have not to smile when Dallas finds the spyware on Brett’s phone and sings into it like a little demon doll. In many ways, it’s really the icing on the cake. And while Brett’s recoiling in horror and puking into Dallas’s trash can, I’m mentally singing Bowen’s praises. After what he did to Evie, this is better than any clandestine sex video with bad lighting.
It’s poetic.
I always figured he was lurking somewhere like a cockroach in the shadows, especially after watching him gaslight the hell out of Brett with Hannah’s help and sending her those anonymous texts she thought were from me. I should’ve felt bad about both of us coming at Brett like that at the same time, but it had to be done.
“Back up, Colson!” Dallas barks, brushing past me and swooping in to sweep Brett’s hair over her shoulders while she heaves into the trash can.
Not much comes up, anyway, which makes me wonder when she last ate. I do what Dallas says and step aside, taking the opportunity to look away for a moment before I betray my stoic exterior. Dallas thinks I’m being polite by not looking at a woman while she’s vomiting her guts out, but I’m just trying not to lose my shit. I want to leave, go find Bowen, and unload my weapon into him for destroying Brett’s book.
But I also want to laugh in his fucking face. If I’d known Bowen audibly witnessed every interaction I had with her, I would’ve thrown in a few more gems just for him and lit him up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve.
As if listening to her come while I fucked her with my knife wasn’t enough to break a man.
But I wasn’t the one who planted that app on her phone, either. Even I can’t hit him where it really hurts, because the only one who can truly destroy Bowen is Bowen.
It’s nearly 2:00 and I’m due back up front for the rest of the afternoon, so after Brett calms down enough, I take her with me and tell her to stay here until we figure out what to do.
“Bowen didn’t take my money,” Brett mutters, arching her brow at her phone screen.
I glance over my shoulder from the bay of monitors, “No?”
“At least I have that, I guess,” she sets her phone face down on the table, “the money from my condo that I sold, so I could live in Bowen’s house, that now I can’t go back to,” she says with a bitter chuckle.
“You’re coming home with me,” I say, still looking at the monitors.
She picks up her phone again, “I’m not going home with you.”
“Yeah,” my voice has a warning edge, “you are.” I’m in no mood to argue with her and, besides, where the hell does she think she’ll go?
“I have to talk to Barrett,” she looks up from her phone, “in person.”
She’s right, of course, but that doesn’t mean I won’t keep an eye on her there, too. As soon as she finishes her sentence, I’m crafting a plan for the evening. I’ll make sure she gets to Barrett’s, stays there, and then I’ll be Bowen’s shadow for the night. Because following him around is easier than wondering where he’ll show up next.
“Why didn’t he just break up with me if he was so angry?” Brett takes a deep breath, not looking up from her phone, “If he knew everything that…happened?”
“You could’ve shot his dog in front of him and set his house on fire,” I swivel around to face her, “he’s not going to break up with you no matter what you do.”
She contorts her face in disgust, “Why not?”
“You ever wonder why abusive parents don’t just surrender their kids to the state?” I ask, “It’s the same reason some men prefer giving their woman black eyes. To him, you’re property, relinquished only by death. He’d rather kill you than let anyone else have you.”
I can tell she doesn’t like being referred to as livestock to be bought and sold, but that’s the reality, whether she likes it or not.
Brett’s voice softens at this sobering fact, “Was Bowen always like this?”
It still fucks with me to hear his name come out of her mouth, like I’m in some parallel universe where she’s stepped into a part of my world where she never should’ve been.
“In a sense,” I glance at my phone, at the rapid-fire texts coming through every few seconds, “I think he just got better at it.”
Brett gazes out the window at the sprawling fields across the road, “Do you ever think about the small micro-decisions you make every single day?” she muses, “Like if you decide to leave your house two minutes earlier or two minutes later, you could change the course of your entire life?”
“Like the butterfly effect? What’s that story called—The Sound of Thunder?” I can’t believe I remember that, “Are you afraid you flapped your wings and caused a typhoon?”
“Something like that,” she smiles.
I give a shrug, “That depends on how much of your life you think is left to chance. You might be walking blind, but that doesn’t mean everyone else is, too.”
“Like you?” she shoots me a pointed glance.
“I pay attention to what’s important to me. Everyone has an agenda. Your coincidence is someone else’s plan,” I grin back at her, “you just don’t know it.”
She pinches her eyebrows together, “It was a coincidence, though. Meeting Bowen was a coincidence.” She’s trying to make it make sense, but it’s not working. “If I hadn’t answered the phone in my room, if I hadn’t gone down to the lobby at the exact time I did, I never would’ve met Bowen. And I wouldn’t be sitting here now, watching my life fall apart and feeling sorry for myself.”
I shoot her a side-eye, “I think you’re allowed to feel something after busting out a window to escape captivity. But I know what it’s like to obsess over what you think you should’ve done and when.”
“OK,” Brett pauses, taking in my words, “what kinds of things should you have done that you didn’t?”
CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
Evie
High School
For a brief moment in time, Bo is all that matters.
I feel myself starting to obsess over him like he’s this pillar of energy that I feed off of like a plant needs water. And it’s both terrifying and exhilarating, because I’m not like that, I don’t need a guy. I’ve never needed a boy to make me feel important. But I start to need him, because now I talk to Bo about anything and everything, and it seems like he can’t get enough of it, either.
At first, I don’t know why I’m so scared to tell Hildy about it. Maybe it’s because sometimes it’s hard to tell what’ll set her off. She’s my best friend, but I’ve seen what can happen when she feels slighted by someone, especially when it comes to relationships—hers or otherwise.
Or maybe it’s just because Bo is Bo and I am me and we live in different worlds where the only thing we share is Hildy. I’m also not one to rock the boat. I don’t want things to change.
But things do change, whether we want them to or not.
The day comes when I click on an email from UCLA and I immediately drop to my knees. I literally drop to my knees right in the middle of my kitchen because I made the softball team and they’re offering me a scholarship, paid in full. I’m going to college on the west coast and all the work I put in and all the choices I’ve made up to now have paid off. Not a day later, I’m bombarded with texts and DMs from the softball girls I met when I visited campus last fall. As if they have to convince me of anything.
I’m in. I’m so fucking in, in every sense of the word.
When I find out, I text my mom, I text my dad, I text Colson and Dallas, I text Hannah, and then I straight up drive to Hildy’s house and run screaming across her lawn. I burst into the house like a lunatic, shoving my phone in her face while I continue hyperventilating.
Hildy screams. I scream. We jump up and down like five-year-olds at Disney World.
She knows how much all of this means to me. And so does Bo. He knows all of it because I’ve spent hours talking to him about how much I want to play ball and how scared I am that I won’t get to. He tells me it’ll happen and I need to quit worrying, that everything will work out how it’s supposed to. Bo doesn’t say things like that. But, now, he says things like that to me.
Except, now, I don’t know whether any of it was true. Because when Bo walks through the door and sees Hildy and I losing our shit in the kitchen, he just stands in the doorway like a statue, watching us, his expression unchanged.
And he stays that way.
Suddenly, all his texts stop, all his calls stop, and his continuous presence abruptly ends, replaced by the way things used to be. Maybe I downplayed the possibility of UCLA so much in order to steel myself for rejection that he didn’t believe it would actually happen. So, now, Bo acts like he hates me to make himself feel better. Except he never sticks to it. There will be moments, flashes of time where he forgets that he’s supposed to be angry with me and, soon, I never know which Bo I’m going to get.
Then, a couple weeks later, something else happens, something totally unexpected. And everything changes—again. My unassuming and well-ordered life feels like it’s descending into chaos. Except, this time, I can’t tell anyone about it. Bo’s not speaking to me and there’s no way I can tell Hildy or Col. The only one I tell is Hannah, and she’s the only reason I’m not going completely insane right now.
It’s stupid, but I also hate the uncertainty of the next couple of months. Are we still going to see Evanescence this summer? I don’t even know if we’re still going to prom together. You’d think that would be the last thing on my mind, but it’s not. And it’s like the mere act of thinking about it brings about turmoil, even while I’m sitting in English minding my own business.
“I showed Bo Garrison a picture of my dress. He said it was hot.” I stop scribbling notes about Midsummer Night’s Dream when I hear Asher Avery’s voice across the aisle. “Then he asked if I had a date yet.”
“Does he have one?” someone asks from behind her.
I glance at her out of the corner of my eye, my heart pounding with dread.
“I don’t think so,” Asher ponders, “he’s supposed to be at Leland’s tomorrow and asked if I’d be there.” She smiles salaciously, “So, I guess we’ll see…” I shudder at the sound of her sing-song voice overflowing with innuendo.
After another five minutes, I just get up and leave to sit in my car and cry until the end of class. Bo doesn’t even have to tell anyone he dumped me because I don’t exist anymore.
I start spending more time up in Dire Ridge at Dad and Christy’s house on the weekends. Being with Col and Dallas and stepping into their life makes me forget my problems, if only for 24 to 48 hours until I have to go back to Canaan for school on Monday.
I wish Col went to my school. I wish I could tell him half of what’s happened, but he’s still angry about what Bo did the last time they raced. I’d rather stand in the kitchen eating brownies out of the pan with him, anyway.
“Fuck him,” he seethes with disgust, “the only reason he even made it to the bridge is because no one wants to face the wrath of Pappy Garrison.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, picking a brownie out of the pan, “he can be a dick sometimes.”
Col shoves a brownie in his mouth, “Y’all have a fight?”
“No,” I sigh, “I think he’s—” I cut myself off, but not before I realize I’ve already said too much.
When I look up, Col’s chewing his fudgy mouthful of brownie, staring at me. I’m about to blurt out some idiotic attempt at damage control, but then I see the corner of his mouth curl ever so slightly. I know that look, the one he usually has when he’s messing with me.
“You know...” I say slowly, furrowing my brow, “but how do you know?”
“Lucky guess,” Col shoots me a side-eye, “you almost let yourself get arrested so you could ride with him after the race, it’s not fucking rocket science.”
Part of me is glad he figured it out. At least some of it, anyway.
“Are you mad?” I ask apprehensively.
“No,” he shakes his head, “I’m not mad. But if you just told me that you wanted a guy who drives fast cars, I could’ve found you someone better.”
“Shut up!” I reel back and smack him in the shoulder, “I can find my own guys, thank you,” I say as an unexpected laugh escapes my throat.
“Apparently…” Col brushes off his hands and leans back against the counter, “so, he’s your boyfriend?”
“No—I mean, yeah…” my shoulders slump in exasperation as despair washes over my face, “I guess…but nobody else knows.”
“Why not?” Col deadpans, clearly not impressed, “Jay’s his best friend and he’s dating Hildy,” he adds bitterly.
Yeah, I think to myself, and I hope none of my relationships start out as jacked up as theirs did…
“Bo and Jay are not me and Hildy. It’s different,” I fire back, tossing a piece of brownie in my mouth.
“You think?” he says with a roll of his eyes.
“Hildy already has enough girls crying to her about Bo. She doesn’t need me doing the same.”
Col gives me a look, “Then maybe he should quit making girls cry over him.”
I brush him off, not wanting to admit how right he is, “And Bo’s just…a lot.”
“What does a lot mean?” Col asks through hooded eyes.
“I don’t know how to tell Hildy, so I asked Bo not to tell anyone yet,” I explain, “and it was really fun because it was this big secret, you know? Hannah’s the only one I told and that was only because…” I trail off, realizing I’m about to say too much again, “anyway, when I found out I got into UCLA, everything changed. Some days he acts normal, other days he acts like a dick to me.”
His tone suddenly hardens, “What do you mean acts like a dick?”
Suddenly, I’m back in school; at lunch, in calculus, walking through the halls, Bo brushing past me like he doesn’t see me, listening to Asher Avery and whoever else vie for his attention.
A heaviness settles in my chest and I feel my chin begin to tremble, “He, uh…” I bite my lip, trying to stuff the emotions back down. I swallow hard, but it comes out as a whisper, “he acts like I don’t exist.”
Col’s jaw tightens and he looks away. He’s not saying it, but I know what he’s thinking. I recognize the way he clenches his teeth and presses his mouth together when he’s angry. I expect him to let loose on me, tell me I should’ve stayed away from Bo like he said, but he doesn’t.
Instead, he shifts his stance and takes a deep breath, “Sounds like he thinks you’re going to abandon him and he’s freaking out.”
Maybe I’m expecting too much. Bo doesn’t have girlfriends, much less secret ones. Maybe it would’ve been better for Hildy to be mad at me for sleeping with her brother than him deciding it isn’t worth it to date me in secret. Maybe it doesn’t even matter.
Because Bo doesn’t have girlfriends.
“I need to get out of here, Col,” I declare in a sudden moment of clarity, “I’m leaving for school on the other side of the country. I didn’t plan on any of this happening. I don’t want a long-distance relationship. I don’t want something tying me down here.”
“Good,” he nods with a smile, “you know I love you, Evie, and you know I’ll miss you, but I’ll put you on that plane kicking and screaming if I have to.”
“I know,” I chuckle, scraping at the tip of my fingernail.
Col scrunches up his face in skepticism, “Was there ever a question that you were leaving?”
I take a deep breath, “No, not really. And that reminds me, I’m going back to Canaan tonight instead of tomorrow. Everyone’s going to the skate park, so I’m going to try to talk to Bo. There’s a lot of stuff I need to say and I’d really like to leave on good terms and not come home to a bunch of awkwardness over the holidays.”
Col’s eyes wander around the kitchen, “Is that a good idea?” he speaks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully, “I’m not saying it’s right for him to ignore you, but wouldn’t it be better to just let it ride?”
“No,” I shake my head, “I have things to say to him, away from other people where he can’t pretend like I’m just Hildy’s best friend. And after that, he can do what he wants.”
I can tell Col doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t try to argue. When I hug him goodbye, he holds on longer than usual, and I let him, because part of me doesn’t want to leave. I’d rather stay at his house for the rest of the summer, but that would just be running away from my problems.
I must’ve picked a good night, though, because by the time I arrive at the skate park, Bo’s decided he likes me again.
He leans close, so that his mouth almost brushes my shoulder, “Meet me by the trails in an hour?”
His contagious smile almost makes me forget about the past few weeks, like it was all a bad dream. Maybe he was just freaking out, like Col said. Maybe he’s over it, which is why I ignore Col’s texts about picking me up later. Col hates Bo, and the last thing he wants is me falling to pieces over him—again. I get it, but like I told him, I still have things I want to say.
