Chapter 7: Evie

7

EVIE

I almost jumped out of my skin when someone knocked on my door. The only person who ever stopped by was Irene, and I knew she was still at work.

Quietly getting to my feet, I tiptoed across the room and looked through the peephole to see Edge standing on the front steps. Assuming he was there about my car, I opened the door and gestured for him to come in.

"That was fast," I said. "What was wrong with it?"

"Oh, I'm not here about your car," he said.

"You're not?" I asked and turned to look at him. He seemed different. Nervous maybe.

"No. I came to talk to you about something else. Can we sit?"

"Sure," I said and took a seat at the end of my couch, leaving the other end available for him. Suddenly, I was nervous.

He sat and clasped his hands together. "I'm not really sure how to begin."

"Did something happen to Irene?"

"No! She's fine," he insisted. "It's nothing like that."

"Then what is it?"

"When I was getting started on your car, I opened the glove box to get your manual and I saw your registration, particularly your last name and the town you're from. Are you related to the vice president of the Mad Dogs MC?"

Everything inside me froze. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't do anything but stare at him with unmasked terror on my face.

"Evie?" he asked, sounding worried. "Are you okay?"

My fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, and it was at one hundred percent flight. "I have to go," I blurted and got to my feet.

He rose from his seat and blocked my path with his enormous body, though he didn't reach out to touch me or physically stop me. "Please, wait," he said urgently. "I'm only asking because I want to help you if you need it. I know they're bad news."

"You have no idea," I said quietly.

"Pretty sure I do. I know they sell drugs and treat their women like shit. I know they wouldn't think twice about putting their hands on a female or killing someone who owed them money," he said.

He only thought he knew. There were no words to describe how awful they really were. "I can't do this."

"You don't have to do anything. Just tell me if they're the reason you're hiding in Cedar Valley."

I wanted to trust him and tell him everything. No one knew what happened besides me, and it weighed heavily on my soul. But I couldn't quite bring myself to do it. Then a tear slipped out of my eye and rolled down my cheek.

"Fucking hell," Edge said quietly and pulled me against his chest. His big arms wrapped around me and held me close. "I didn't mean to make you cry. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. But I want you to know I'm here if you need me."

And that did it. I couldn't hold it back anymore. The dam broke, and I burst into tears, crying all over his shirt. He continued to hold me, rubbing my back and whispering words of reassurance against the top of my head.

It took longer than I cared to admit, but I finally pulled myself together and took a step back while wiping the tears from my face. "I'm sorry," I whispered.

"You don't have anything to be sorry about. I'm sorry I upset you."

I shook my head. "You're not the reason I'm upset," I said and exhaled heavily. I was about to take a huge leap, and I hoped I wasn't making a colossal mistake. "I am related to the vice president. He's my father."

"And Ken is your brother?"

I involuntarily shivered at his name. "Yes," I said disgustedly. "He's my half brother."

Edge waited patiently for me to continue. I took a few moments to decide where to start. "Ken and I have different mothers. My mother divorced Carl when she found out he cheated on her and had a kid with a club whore. I was six years old at the time, and I think Ken was around three. After we left, I didn't see Carl again until I was an adult. Shortly after I moved back to Fairbanks, I ran into them at a gas station, which was the first time I met Ken. I was upset with my mom and wondered if maybe she lied to me about what kind of person Carl was. So when he invited me to have dinner with them at the clubhouse, I went. During the short time I was there, I saw two different women get hit in the face by a man and another one was bent over a pool table and fucked by three different men in front of everyone. I got out of there as fast as I could and made it a point to avoid the Mad Dogs. If I was going somewhere and there was a motorcycle in the parking lot, I went somewhere else. I didn't see either of them again until several years later when they came looking for my roommate." I paused for a few moments before starting the next part of the story. "I met Randall when I started working at the hospital. One day, I mentioned something about looking for a new place to live. He was also looking for a new place, so we ended up finding something together. Everything was fine for a while, but then Randall started staying out to all hours of the night. He'd come home stumbling and slurring his words. Then he'd pass out and sleep all day. Eventually, he got fired for missing work. We had a big fight about it, and he promised he'd find a new job and do better. I kept waiting for things to improve, but they only got worse. He was different. It took me longer than I care to admit to figure out things were much worse than he said. He'd started using meth and didn't seem to have any intentions of stopping. Since he didn't have a job, he started taking things from the apartment and pawning them. By that point, I was trying to move out and get away from him. I almost had enough money saved up for a deposit on a new place when he broke into my phone and transferred all the money in my account to himself. We were on the verge of being evicted when everything came to a head. Apparently, he'd been getting his meth from the Mad Dogs with a promise to pay. When he couldn't give them the money he owed, they came to collect." I stopped abruptly and tried to swallow past the emotions clogging my throat. I wasn't sure if I could actually say the words to the next part.

"And they killed him," Edge said.

I couldn't speak, so I wordlessly nodded.

"Oh, Evie," he said sympathetically.

The tears had started again, but I didn't bother to wipe them away. "I tried to stop them. That's how I got the black eyes. They told me they'd kill me, too, after they took me to their clubhouse and let all the members fuck me to pay off his remaining debt. So, I didn't say anything as Randall's throat was slit with one of my kitchen knives. When they left, I packed up my shit and got the hell out of there. I stopped a few towns away and called in an anonymous tip. I told them about the murder and where they could find the murder weapon. I made sure they knew Ken's fingerprints would be on the knife and both of their prints would be all over the apartment. Then I got back in my car and didn't stop until I made it to Cedar Valley."

"Evie," he said quietly and once again pulled me against him. "I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

I was too tired to resist any longer and relished in the comfort he offered.

"I feel bad that I don't feel bad," I admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"About Randall's death. I feel like I should feel guilty for not doing more to stop them, but I don't. They were going to kill both of us if I didn't comply, and he wasn't the same person I once knew. That person had been gone for a long time. In a way, I feel like it put him out of his misery." It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders when I uttered those words.

"It's okay to feel however you feel. You were put in a bad situation by no fault of your own. You did what you had to do to save yourself. There's no reason to feel guilty about that," he said.

"Thank you," I said, and let him hold me for a little while longer before I stepped back. "Where are my manners? Would you like something to drink?"

"Coffee, if you have some."

"I should've known that." It seemed like coffee was all he ever drank.

Edge leaned on the counter while I started making his coffee. "I think you should talk to Byte about getting a new ID."

"Irene mentioned something about that when we were at the clubhouse."

"You might not need it right now, but you will if you ever want to do anything requiring identification, like opening a bank account. And you should probably consider trading your car for another one and registering it in your new name," he said.

"Why do I need to do that?"

"The tags are going to expire soon. When you pay the taxes, you'll have to give them an address to send the sticker to. Anyone who knows how to get their hands on that information could find you."

"I don't think Muzzle or Snarl are smart enough to know how to do that," I said.

"Maybe not, but I'm sure they could pay someone who is," he countered.

I swallowed thickly. He was right. They could easily do that. But would they?

"I don't even know if they're looking for me."

"You reported them to the police and got them arrested for murder. They're looking for you," he said confidently.

"It was an anonymous tip."

"You may not have given your name, but they knew who the tip came from. Who else besides you would know about their fingerprints and where the murder weapon was?"

"Yeah, that was the only part of my plan I couldn't figure out how to get around. At least their arrest bought me some time. Once they're found guilty and sentenced, I won't have to worry about them anymore," I said.

Edge grimaced.

"What?"

"I told you I recognized your last name and the town you were from. Before I came up here to talk to you, I had Byte search your father's name to see if I was right," he said and paused. "The charges were dropped against your father and brother."

I nodded in acknowledgment and took a few moments to process his words. "I shouldn't be surprised. People have always said the cops in Fairbanks were dirty."

Edge was quiet for a few moments while he sipped his coffee. "Do you have a gun?"

"What?"

"A gun," he repeated. "Do you have one?"

"No."

"You need one. And you need to know how to use it. I have one you can hang onto for a while. Are you free to go target shooting tomorrow?"

"Hold on," I said. He was moving too fast. "You want to give me a gun and teach me how to shoot it tomorrow?"

"Yeah," he said simply. "You need to be able to defend yourself if something happens. If you're comfortable with a gun and know how to use it, you'll be able to do that."

"You mean if my father and brother find me," I clarified.

He nodded. "Would you be able to shoot them if you had to?"

I didn't even have to think about it. After what they did to me and what they threatened me with, it was a no brainer. "Oh, yes."

Edge chuckled. "Thought so."

"I was wrong about you," I admitted.

He grinned. "I know."

"You do?"

"You were terrified of me, and you didn't hide it well."

"I'm sorry," I apologized.

"It's okay. I knew something was going on with you, but it makes more sense now."

"I almost died when Irene pulled up to your clubhouse for Gabby's party."

His face softened. "I know you've heard it before, but we're not like the Mad Dogs. We're not angels by any means, but we don't hurt women and children, and we don't kill people unless we're defending ourselves or protecting someone else. That's why I've been pestering you since I met you. I wanted to know who hurt you and what I needed to do to make sure they didn't do it again."

"That's…," I started and reached out to gently squeeze his hand. "Thank you. I didn't appreciate it then, but I do now."

"You're welcome," he said and placed his other hand on top of mine. "You should let me take you out for dinner."

"I couldn't."

"Oh, come on. You've had an eventful afternoon. It's the least I can do."

"Okay," I conceded. "Where are we going?"

"There's this great little diner on Main Street," he teased.

"Yeah, I think I've heard of it," I said and started putting on my shoes.

"Do you like hibachi? There's a really good Japanese steakhouse downtown."

"I do if it's real hibachi. I don't like the fake hibachi."

He chuckled. "What is fake hibachi?"

"If they serve it with zucchini, mushrooms, and onions, it's real. If it's served with broccoli and carrots, it's fake and usually tastes like Chinese food."

"This place serves zucchini."

"Sold. Let's go," I said.

When we walked outside, I was surprised to see a truck parked in the driveway. "Where's your bike?"

"It was raining in Croftridge when I left. Some brothers don't mind riding in the rain, but I'm not one of them."

"I've never ridden on a motorcycle before."

He grinned. "We'll have to change that." Then he walked to the passenger side of his truck and opened the door for me. I couldn't recall the last time, if ever, someone had done that for me.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

Suddenly, I was nervous and couldn't think of anything to say. Thankfully, Edge didn't seem to have the same problem and continued to make small talk until we arrived at the restaurant.

After we were seated and placed our orders, Edge looked at me like he wanted to say something but seemed hesitant.

"What? Do I have something on my face?"

He laughed. "No, it's nothing like that. I'm honestly just curious about you, so if you don't want to answer, tell me to mind my own business."

"Okay," I said slowly.

"When you and Irene came to the clubhouse, you told me you were from Florida, but earlier, you mentioned moving back to Fairbanks. What happened there?"

"Oh," I sighed. "I told you I was from Florida because I didn't want you, or anyone, to know I was from Fairbanks for obvious reasons. The truth is, I moved to Florida to live with my grandmother after I graduated from high school. My mother remarried when I was twelve, and I never got along with my stepfather. So, when I was old enough to leave, I did."

"What made you decide to come back to Fairbanks?"

"It's a long story that doesn't have a happy ending. Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"I want to get to know you. If it's your story, good or bad, I want to hear it."

I wasn't ready to admit it, but regardless of how hard I tried to keep him at arm's length, he was worming his way in.

"When I told my mother that I was moving in with Grandma, she wasn't happy about it and refused to help me pay for college. It wasn't a huge deal to me since I wasn't sure what I wanted to do anyway. So, for the first two years I was in Florida, I worked as a housecleaner for a company that cleaned vacation rentals. Once I had enough money saved, I paid for my classes and became a certified phlebotomist."

"You're a phlebotomist?" he asked in surprise.

"Yes," I said and reached out to run my finger over one of the many prominent veins in his forearm. "Sorry, I've been dying to do that. You have juicy veins."

He chuckled. "Was that supposed to sound dirty? Because it did."

"It did, didn't it?" I laughed.

"You can poke my juicy veins later," he teased. "How'd you end up back in Fairbanks?"

"This is where the story goes downhill. I'd been working at the hospital drawing blood for about six months when I met Austin. We started dating and things became serious. A year later, we got an apartment together. We'd been living together for almost two years when my grandmother started showing signs of dementia. As things progressed, I started spending more and more time at her house, sometimes staying the night two or three times a week. One night, I told Austin I was staying with Grandma and wouldn't be home. Later, I realized I didn't have any clean clothes with me and needed to run home to get something to wear to work the next day."

"Oh, no," Edge said knowingly.

"Oh, yes . I walked in on Austin screwing some girl on our couch."

"What did you do?"

"Honestly, nothing. I got what I needed and left. He tried to talk to me, but I refused to speak to him. I didn't want to have that conversation in front of the stranger he was cheating on me with, and I didn't want to leave my grandmother alone for the time a conversation of that nature would take. So, the next day at work, I told my boss what happened, and she gave me the following day off to move out. Austin came home from work while I was loading the last of my stuff into my car and asked if we could talk. I agreed, even though there was nothing he could say to change my mind. Basically, he said he was lonely and blamed me for spending so much time taking care of my grandma." I started to laugh and paused for a moment to get myself under control. "I'm sorry, but I can laugh about this part now. He actually thought his actions were justified, and I was the one being unreasonable ."

"You're not serious."

"Yes, I am. He was right, and I was wrong. When I told him how ridiculous he was, he doubled down. I told him we'd have to agree to disagree and left."

"What an asshole."

"I completely agree."

"Then what happened?"

"I spent the next few years working and taking care of my grandma. Her condition progressed, and she eventually needed more care than I could provide. The handful of facilities my grandmother could afford were awful. My mom claimed she couldn't afford to help pay for her care, so I used what savings I had and got a second job so she could go to one of the nicer places. For two years, I lived at her house, worked my ass off, and spent whatever free time I had with her."

"So, you decided to move back after she passed?" he asked.

"Not exactly. I probably would have stayed in Florida if things happened differently, but they didn't."

"You don't have to tell me the rest if you don't want to," he said sincerely.

"It's okay. I'll just give you the highlights."

"Sounds good."

"The town we lived in got hit by a hurricane. The nursing home moved the residents to another facility that was in a safer location. Or so they thought. That town flooded, and the building my grandmother was in collapsed. She was one of the residents who didn't make it."

"Oh, Evie, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, me, too. I wasn't ready to let her go, but I'm glad she's at peace now."

"You said your town got hit by the hurricane. Was your house okay?"

"Nope. The house was completely destroyed. Since my grandmother was dead, the insurance payout went to the next of kin—my mother. She kept the money instead of rebuilding, leaving me without a place to live. I'd spent everything I had paying for the nursing home, so there wasn't much I could do. My mother was gracious enough to allow me to move back in with her until I could get on my feet again. Her words, not mine. So, that's how I ended up back in Fairbanks."

"And you moved in with Randall to get out of your mother's house as fast as possible," he finished for me.

"Pretty much. And you know what happened after that. It feels like I keep having to start over every couple of years, and it's exhausting," I admitted.

"Maybe this time will be the last time."

"One can only hope."

"How were things with your mom after you moved out?"

"Pretty much nonexistent. She's always been a negative and critical person. It was hard for me to voluntarily subject myself to that, so I kept my distance. I also never forgave her for the way she handled things with my grandmother. Maybe one day, but I'm not there yet."

"That's understandable."

"Thanks. I've never really talked about my relationship with her with anyone, and a part of me has always wondered if I was being too harsh."

"I don't think you are. Being a part of someone's life is a privilege not a right. If their presence isn't positive for you, revoke their privileges," he said simply.

After dinner, he drove me back to my trailer and walked me to the door. "I'll pick you up around four tomorrow for target practice."

"I'll be ready," I said. "And thanks again for dinner. I'm sorry I spent the whole time telling you my crappy story."

"You don't need to be sorry. I wanted to know," he smiled. "See you tomorrow." He got back into his truck and waited for me to go inside before he left.

I found myself slightly disappointed that he didn't kiss me. Then I shook my head. He wasn't interested in me. He felt sorry for me, especially after I overshared at dinner.

I needed to remember that.