Page 103 of Striking Range

There are so many questions whirling through my mind, and yet the only thing I am certain of is that Everett is not lying.

You see, only Evie could craft such an idiotic plan and come out the other side thinking he’s a first-class genius. I believe that he genuinely thinks this is his best path forward.

“So, just to hear it said plainly,” I start, “you two are not romantically involved? It’s all… fake?”

“Right,” Ashley agrees. “The most I do is hold his hand around his parents. After that we part ways, or I sit and listen to him gush about you. Though, to be fair, I’m certainly surprised it was our star volley player behind those stories.”

Good god, what has Evie shared?! I flush, turning my attention away from her.

Everett is staring at me hopefully. “Do you understand, Sky? This is the only way that I can keep my family until the end of the month. I just want a peaceful end to this era of my life.”

It’s sad, and majorly fucked up, that this is what he is left with. That after sitting through foster care until he was six, then being adopted into a family that literally signed up to love him, he is now here—trying so desperately to receive that love.

I take a deep breath, preparing myself for this fight.

“Evie,” I call softly. “They are not your family. If they can’t love you for you, if they can easily cause you harm, they are not your home. I don’t understand why you’re trying so hard to pretend it is.”

Everett does not fight me the way I anticipated he would, only giving me a sad smile. It says so much, this smile; it tells me that he isn’t dumb, he understands, and yet it doesn’t matter anyway.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” he says. “Your parents have always loved you. But Sky, please try to see that love isn’t something that is just given to me. It’s something that I’ve always had to earn—and for a bit longer, not just to keep my car and my everyday expense money, I want to hold onto that feeling. I want… I want to be loved by my parents for a while longer, no matter how fake that love is.”

I feel sad for him. As I look into those soft, sorrowful eyes, I want to rage.

Everett is beautiful and intelligent, as well as an overall good man. That should be enough—more than enough. Take me as an example; I’m not a great person, yet my parents love me unconditionally. This is how it should be.

And yet, the Carmichaels have made affection feel like an unattainable prize, only fit for those who benefit them. They have shifted and manipulated Evie’s view of his worth and what he deserves.

It should be illegal to choose a child and then neglect them. It should be a crime to obtain something so precious and small and attempt to destroy it.

“I will never understand why you go to these lengths to please them,” I admit, reaching out to graze his cheek with my fingertips. “But I do understand that you’re a good man. That you don’t deserve this.”

Everett’s eyes soften, a hopeful smile shaping his lips. “So you believe me? That I wasn’t cheating on you?”

Oh, right. Ashley is literally right here. But I don’t have to hide in front of her, right? She already knows everything.

I nod. “I believe you.”

And what a relief that is.

Ashley sighs aggressively, but it sounds like contentment.

“Alright!” she shouts, standing from the couch as she stretches her arms above her head. “Looks like my job here is done! Though, I’m not sure why I was summoned.”

“I wanted him to see that you know this was all fake,” Everett explains. “You and me, I mean.”

Ashley chuckles, patting his shoulder as her eyes fall to where I sit. “Don’t you worry, Sky. The last time I was with Ev and thought we were serious, he turned me down as he cried over you. I am not competition.”

Competition? Please. I’m Skylar Parish—she never stood a chance.

Let’s just… uh… ignore all the previous crying and pretend I was this confident the entire time.

“Thanks for coming over, I guess,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Call me for the next gig, Ev. Later.”

As the front door clicks shut behind her, Everett grabs my hand, pulling me up from the couch.

“I can’t believe you tried to lock me out,” he pouts.