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But then Dalton speaks up.
“They knew.” He’d previously been staring at Dax with pure hatred in his eyes, but now his attention is directed toward Evie and me, understanding lighting his eyes.
“You knew,” he says again. “That’s why you didn’t want me coming up here.”
“Okay, wait a minute—” I start, raising my hands.
It’s not enough to preserve the calm. Kara rounds on me. “You knew about this? For how long?” She doesn’t let me respond. “But you didn’t tell me because you didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, afraid I’d bail on your little ship.”
“It’s not a little ship,” I say testily, annoyed at being interrupted.
“Maybe not the point right now,” Evie says under her breath.
“Well whatever it is, you can fucking forget me being any part of it,” she snaps. “And you!” She whirls around on Dax, sticking a finger in his face. “I better never see your fucking face again.”
Then she turns around and storms to the door, muttering about cheats and snakes under her breath before disappearing in a flash of rainbow hair.
There’s a beat of silence between the six of us. Then Dalton looks at Dax and says, “You motherfucker.”
“Bring it, bitch,” Dax replies.
Before I can second-guess my thought process, I dive between them, bowling Dalton over but not before his swung fist connects with the side of my head.
I see stars briefly. Damn, the kid can actually hit pretty hard. But I stay on my feet and am able to hook my arms into his to stop another blow from coming.
“Let him go,” Dax taunts. “Let’s see him even try to hit me.”
“Shut the fuck up!” I shout over my shoulder.
Dalton is still yelling and cursing at Dax but I’ve got him under control now and manage to walk him out into the hall and then into our room a couple doors down. He doesn’t make the process easy. Thankfully I’d done more than wash dishes at my dad’s bar. I could be called on to bounce drunk and violent customers too. I guess you never lose the touch.
I fling him away once we’re inside and he steps forward like he’s about to throw a punch. I tower over him, absolutely fed up with all this bullshit. Can’t I just fucking brood about Evie in peace?
In the face of my full height and fury, Dalton thinks twice and, with Dax out of the room, he calms down. Though not entirely.
“Why the hell did you kick me out of there?” he demands. “I could have taken that soft prick.”
With hands like his, I don’t doubt it. “Yeah and then what?” I ask. “He’s an NBA player. You fuck him up enough for him to miss a game and he’s going to sue you for every penny you have.”
“He wouldn’t get much,” Dalton spits. But then he looks away. He knows I’m right.
Leaving him to think for a moment, I turn to Evie, looking to do further damage control. Her face is strained and white; she’s trying not to cry.
“I just don’t get it,” she says. She says it again and again. “I just don’t get it. I just don’t get it.”
“Hey,” I say. I grab her shoulders and shake her slightly. “Evie,” I say.
Her big blue eyes finally connect with mine. “I just don’t get how people can be so horrible to each other.”
I’ve long since stopped wondering at people’s capacity for cruelty, and it hurts to see Evie start to slip down the jaded road I started on in childhood. I pull her into my arms and hug her tightly, rocking her back and forth, her head beneath my chin.
“It’s okay,” I say. “It’ll be okay.” But they’re empty words; seeing her trauma play out once again right in front of her cuts deeper than mere words can fix.
“I think I need to lay down for a minute,” Evie whispers. I nod, kiss her on the forehead, and let her go.
“Tell me if you need anything,” I say after her. She doesn’t act like she heard me. Maybe she didn’t at all.
Dalton is sitting on the couch, hands steepled in front of him, staring at the carpet. I join him.
