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Her mother’s shaky voice and the utter disdain in her father’s eyes made her queasy as she stared at her parents.

“It’s about to be the time real damn soon, Rachel. You talk to your daughter. I need air.” He stormed past her, sending her off kilter as his shoulder banged into hers.

Wincing, she held her hand to the tender flesh while feeling stunned. “Mom?”

“He’s just distraught, honey. He didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long night.”

The words sounded thin, frail and full of holes. But now wasn’t the time to dig into the root of all their family dysfunction. Evonne strode over and wrapped an arm around her mother’s shoulders. “Mom, what happened, how is he?”

“We—we don’t know much. When he came to, he stormed off furious, hell-bent on tracking you down and dragging you back. I—I told him to give you space, both of them. But neither would listen. Your father was all for it, egging him on.” Her mother shook her head while covering her trembling mouth.

Oh God, this is literally my fault. Whether Levi had a hand in it or not. Sickened, she closed her eyes, steamrolled by a freight train of regret. “And then?” Evonne urged, gently nudging her mother to continue with her story.

“Then, there was the heavy thud of something hitting hard, a smack and the squeal of tires. We—went to the front door and saw him lying there. God—he didn’t look real. Blood was everywhere and his shoe was clear on the other side of the street.” Her mother tensed in her arms.

“You don’t have to tell me any more, Mom.”

“He’s all broken up from the inside out, legs, ribs and skull. They can’t tell us anything until the swelling goes down. They have him in a medically induced coma to give him—a fighting chance. It doesn’t look good. He—he hit the ground damned hard. And they don’t know.” She shook her head.

“I am so sorry,” Evonne whispered, tightening her arms around her mother’s small frame, wishing she could lend more than physical support. The thought of Paul dying made her ache, but the truth was the man was all but a stranger. They’d never seen eye to eye and the superior treatment he’d always received had turned her bitter and resentful, though she’d never wished him harm. For her parents, the sun rose and set with Paul. She wasn’t sure what they’d do without him. “What can I do to help?”

“Leave.”

She jerked back, stunned.

“Your father is so worked up right now. He’s not going to calm down until you give him some space and…” Her mother trailed off, shaking her head.

“I…” Evonne opened her mouth and closed it.

“We’ll let you know if anything changes with Paul, honey. Maybe come back and try it again tomorrow?” her mother said.

Evonne covered her throat with her hand and shook her head. “It’s always going to be him over me, isn’t it?”

“Evonne—”

“N-no, I don’t need to hear anything else. I can see the way you look at me. You think this is my fault just like he does. God, even to know you can’t take up…” She spun on her heel and walked out, ignoring her mother’s weak protest. Pathetic, fragile, spineless. The words swirled in her mind a song of sorrow, anger and disappointment. They were broken past the point of repair. Nothing would bring them together. She slammed the door behind her.

“Evonne?” Juliette called to her, as Shooter pushed away from the wall across from the door.

“Just give me a minute, okay? Bathroom break.” She stalked toward the restrooms with the two trailing her silently. She stumbled into the bathroom, disoriented from the swift blow her mother had delivered, severing her will to try when it came to a family she nearly hated. Bending over the sink, she stared in the mirror, hating what she saw. Her eyes were dilated, watery and the bone-deep hurt turned her face into a canvas of pain. No more. She turned on the faucet, splashed her face and gathered the tattered shreds of dignity around her like a shield.

Her back pocket vibrated. Fuck. She wanted to ignore it, but a pissed-off Rocky marching up the hallway wouldn’t help anything. Digging the black rectangle out of her pocket, she did her best to sound normal. “Hello.”

“Sorry to hear about your darling brother. He should’ve watched where he was going.”

Her stomach dropped. “L-Levi?”

“I do love the sound of my name on your lips, sweetheart.”

“How…”

“Did I get this number? In all the chaos, I guess they have yet to realize brother is missing something vital.”

“You did this for a phone!”

“No. I did this because I could. You want me to keep going?” Levi asked.

“Why?” she whispered, completely blown away by the depths of depravity he had caused over her. This felt too personal to be about bringing Juliette to her knees or seeking revenge for Peter.


Tags: Shyla Colt Lords of Mayhem Romance