Page 71 of Blood Queen
She holds them out to me. “I kept them. The ones you’ve been sending me—dropped off at the P.O. Box for years. All the details. All the Mafia activity. All of it’s here. We can use this to your advantage.”
I stare at the stack, my chest tight. “You kept them…”
She gives me a hard look. “Evany, you’ve been documenting all of it. Everything the families did—everything. The world needs to know the truth. This is your ticket at a new life.”
I blink rapidly, trying to hold it together, but the tears threaten to spill. My burner phone vibrates on the coffee table. Only Marcy and Truman have the number. I don’t want to leave this life without seeing him but it’s too dangerous right now.
“I’ll just be in the kitchen,” she says and leaves me to my phone.
A voicemail notification. I dial in.
Click play.
“Kid, I saw the news today. And I can’t sit here, knowing what I know, and say nothing. I know you. I know the weight you carry, the way you tuck your pain away where no one can see it. Fuck, but I see it. I always have. Please let my love be the light that gets you through. When all you believe in is the hurt, let me be the one to catch you before you spiral. I don’t want anything from you—not your apologies, not your explanations. Just your trust. Just for you to believe, even for a second, that you have me. I’ll be right here. You don’t have to say a word.You can start with a whisper. Or nothing at all. Just fucking let me in. Time is our friend, Kid. If you even have the smallest bit of faith left in us—let me hold you up.”He sighs.“Just, have a little faith in me.”
I break apart. Sobs rip through me so fiercely that I can’t stand.
I hit the call button. Wait impatiently for it to connect.
Truman answers on the first ring.
“Evany,” he breathes. The sound of my biological name from Truman’s lips instead of Kid sends a jolt through me, stirring something bitter. Something sour and rotten. It’s as if a part of me is fading, the innocence of my childhood slipping away, never to return.
My heart fractures at the thought.
I have lost Kid, but I amnotEvany.
“I need you,” I whisper.
38
Past
The moment I see him leaning against the wall of the bus station, my heart skips.
“You came,” he says, his voice a little too quiet, like he’s not sure whether to be relieved or mad.
“Of course,” I answer.
He watches me, arms crossed over his chest as I approach, but his eyes are softer now. The anger from before is gone, replaced by an energy— that makes my pulse race.
I stop just a foot away from him, feeling the space between us burn. He swallows hard, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. He uncrosses his arms and steps toward me, slow but sure.
“I shouldn’t have said what I said, Kid. I—hell, I missed you. Missed your laugh, your kisses, your warmth next to me at night. And Mom was grade A pissed at me for my mood.” His hand comes up, barely brushing my cheek, but I can feel the heat ofit even without touching. His voice lowers, all gravel and desire. “Missed everything about you.”
A shiver runs down my spine at his words, the honesty in them sinking deep. I don’t say anything for a moment. Instead, I move into him, pressing my body against his, feeling the tension in his shoulders melt away when I slide my hands up to his neck.
“God,” I breathe, my fingers tangling in his hair. “I missed you, too.”
His hands slide around my waist, pulling me tighter against him until we’re flush, every inch of our bodies touching. It’s almost too much, the feeling of him—how right it is to be this close again. How much I’ve been aching for this.
His lips crash down on mine, hot and hungry, the way I’ve missed. I taste the apologies in his kiss, feel the regret in the urgency of it. His hands slide down my back, tugging at the hem of my shirt, and I can’t help but let out a soft, breathless laugh.
“Come on. Let’s go home,” I say taking his hand.
The walk to the campus feels familiar. It settles my nerves. Ididmiss Truman—so much it hurt.
Before I can fully close the door to his room, he’s pulling me toward the bed, his mouth never leaving mine, not even for a second. We hit the mattress in a tangle of limbs, the sheets twisting around us, the whole world fades into the background. I can’t get close enough, can’t touch enough. My body is craving him like I’ve been starving for months.
