21. Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-One

E va couldn't stop fidgeting in her seat. She never was comfortable sitting in the passenger seat, but the urge to take over for Pixie, to wrap her up and hold her tight until she could let go of all her pain, grew so strong her teeth ached with it. Some weird-ass funk music played on the radio, and the song buzzed under Eva's skin.

"Mind if I change the music?"

"Mm, go for it," Pixie said, her eyes on the highway. They drove outside the city, but Eva was done with work and had no plans for the evening, so even if this would take the whole night, she'd be fine. She wouldn't leave Pixie by her lonesome. Before the call had interrupted them, they both seemed to be headed in the same direction.

Truly, knowing Pixie's plans to leave weren't set in stone was what she'd needed.

Eva flipped through the radio station, settling on an indie/alt channel that was soothing and wouldn't amplify her nerves. They'd been driving for a bit, the silence percolating between them. Eva didn't want to push Pixie to talk, not when the woman clearly held on to her composure with all her might.

"This isn't the first time she's told me someone changed the locks on her," Pixie said.

Eva remained quiet. She'd been wondering what had led to this.

"It happened a few years ago, and I'd been out at a concert," Pixie said, carding her fingers through her hair. "But when my mother got like this—yeah, I left and went to find her. She was curled up on her stoop, rocking back and forth. It's one hell of a mental disorder."

"That must be so hard on you too," Eva said gently. "Knowing that at any moment you could get a call like this, that your life might be upheaved all over again."

Pixie didn't respond, but the sheen of tears was illuminated by the highway lights.

Eva placed her hand on Pixie's thigh, which trembled from the tremors rocking through her. It gutted her how much Pixie had to shoulder—how she'd carried this alone for so long. The loneliness, that was something they shared, just in different ways. Pixie naturally attracted people to her. She was pure light and sweetness, likable and charming.

Eva, on the other hand, had always known she was hard to love.

Her mother had made it clear early on, and over the years, friends, boyfriends, and then her girlfriend had compounded the truth. Her need for control scared them away. She'd closed off rather than sharing every aspect of herself. However, no matter how hard she tried, she'd never been able to twist into being good enough for anyone.

Pixie was the first who seemed to have no reserves, no complaints lying in wait.

Even Jack had gotten tired of her when she wanted to take a more dominant role. She'd believed Sienna could maybe love her as is, except she'd chosen Jack in the end.

"We're almost here," Pixie said, her steady voice breaking through. "Get ready to calm some feathers."

Eva's lips quirked. She loved the way Pixie unintentionally mixed up idioms. She didn't feel the need to correct her though. Instead, she squeezed Pixie's thigh one more time and let go. "Hey, I'm with you. That's not going to change."

Pixie let out a shaky sigh. "I know. And you have no idea how different it feels coming here with someone rather than by myself."

"Ew, letting people in," Eva responded, eliciting a hesitant grin from Pixie. "Though maybe it bears a little credence." That was a fact Eva was still discovering. Had it not been for Jack reneging on his offer to sell the house, she might not have even told her brother what had gone down with her exes. However, he and Pixie had both stepped up with everything she'd told them, and fuck, it had her rethinking her whole approach.

"You're not wrong." Pixie stopped in front of a pale yellow house along a suburban street. "Where is she?"

Eva scanned the area. Her gaze snagged on the two cars in the driveway. "Let's check inside the house." She had an inkling, but she didn't want to share that yet. They got out of the car and shut the doors, the thuds loud in the quiet neighborhood. They walked to the front door, their footsteps muffled by the grass. The lights coming from inside confirmed her guess .

When Pixie stopped at the door but didn't move to open it, Eva grabbed the knob. She didn't have the emotional connection to the situation Pixie did, and if she could protect this woman in any way, she would. Unlocked.

Eva pushed the door open and stepped into a dark foyer. Muffled voices came from farther in. Pixie slipped past her toward the hazy glow at the end.

The creak of their steps on the hardwood broke the silence.

"Hello?" a sharp voice called out.

Pixie stopped. "Where's my mother?"

Eva halted beside her, breathing in the scent of incense and musty fabric. A moment later, the clack of heels signaled someone was coming their way.

An older woman with gray hair twirled in a loose bun appeared at the end of the short hallway. "Pixie? Maisie's daughter?"

"That's me," she said shakily. Eva took Pixie's hand and threaded their fingers, wanting to give her strength in whatever way possible.

"Oh, good." The woman gestured them forward. "Maisie's in the kitchen. We're just having a cup of tea."

Pixie let out a breath, and they followed the woman to the brightly lit kitchen. Someone sat at the kitchen table, clutching tight to a mug of tea. Eva presumed it was Pixie's mother. Even though she had long, blonde hair, her deep blue eyes and straight nose were similar to Pixie's.

Silence descended. Pixie's mother glanced in her direction and smiled. "And who is this?"

Goose bumps prickled up Eva's arm at how serene the woman seemed when she'd called Pixie in a panic a mere hour ago.

"How did you get inside?" Pixie asked, her tone sharp as she ignored her mother's question. Eva chewed on her lower lip because Pixie's mother's stare hadn't wavered from her .

"We called a locksmith," the woman said, extending her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm Gerrie, one of your mom's coworkers."

Pixie's shoulders slumped. "So, I didn't even need to rush out here?" Her voice sounded small, and it broke Eva's heart. Eva squeezed her hand as if that might pull her back.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Maisie said, taking another sip of tea. "By the time we'd gotten inside and I'd started to settle down, I'd forgotten to call you back and let you know."

Irritation roiled through Eva. The woman might not have been in her faculties, but Eva hated the idea of Pixie getting put into this type of situation constantly.

"It was only fifteen minutes ago that we even got in," Gerrie attempted to justify, coming over to stand by Maisie's side.

"Do you want to stay for tea?" Maisie asked, lifting her mug. The calmness on her features unsettled Eva. Pixie's mother acted as if the whole phone call had never happened and they'd just dropped by for a casual chat. "Introduce me to your friend?"

Pixie pulled her hand from Eva's, grabbed a chair, and faced her mother. "Are you taking your meds?"

Maisie flinched. "Of course I am. I wouldn't do that to you."

Pixie's shoulders rounded, and Eva wanted to glue herself to her to offer comfort.

"We were in the middle of a date," Eva said. "We got your phone call and wanted to check to see if you were okay."

"Oh, a date?" Maisie's eyes brightened.

Fuck, maybe she'd overstepped. Except Pixie pushed up off the chair and threaded her fingers through Eva's. Relief rolled through her.

"Yeah," Pixie said. "If everything's okay here, we're going to get back to it. "

"I'm fine." Maisie offered a weak smile. She'd clearly been through something, but considering her friend had stepped in and handled the situation, the weight didn't need to be all on Pixie.

"I've got this," Gerrie said, her gaze softening. "Nice to meet you, Pixie."

"Likewise." Pixie tugged at Eva's hand.

Eva picked up the cue. "We'll get out of your hair. Hope you two enjoy your night." With a nod to Gerrie and Maisie, Eva walked them back toward the door. The second they stepped out of the house, Pixie slumped forward.

"I'm so sorry for wasting your night."

Eva stopped midstride. "I'm the one who chooses what to do with my time, and I chose to join you. And who says the night's wasted?"

Pixie swallowed hard, and when their eyes met, the vulnerability in those soft blues disarmed her.

"I'm not used to this," she admitted, their steps slowing on the way to the car. "My mother having someone besides me to help her out. Someone by my side."

"You're aware I'm not the only one who would though," Eva said. "Micah would've come in a heartbeat, same as anyone at Whipped."

"I know." Pixie's eyes locked with hers, and they stopped still, right in the middle of the walkway. "But you were the first I let in."

Eva's chest tightened with the honor. Fuck, she was falling so hard for this woman it was ridiculous. The physical had always tangled with the emotional when it came to Pixie because something about her coaxed Eva out from behind her barriers.

"Thank you" was all she said.

"Let's get on the road," Pixie said. "I've got a few ideas where we could go if you're up to it. "

"Absolutely," Eva said as they reached the car. "I wasn't lying when I said the night's young. It's barely dinnertime, and Parker and Micah are going to be busy back at the condo."

Pixie snorted. "Probably best we spend some time out, then."

"Sorry you're burdened with my company a little while longer." The sarcasm dripped from her lips, but it opened up those razor-sharp slices that had been carved into her over the years.

Pixie let go of her hand and faced her. "You are never a burden. I'm honored you chose to spend your time with me."

"Likewise." Eva blinked to hide her burning eyes. The way Pixie chose her, how she made her feel wanted when so few did—the woman had no damn idea what a miracle she truly was.

They both settled into the car. Pixie turned on the ignition and stepped on the gas.

"So, do you think she's really okay?" Eva asked. Her gut was saying no, even though she didn't have the history or knowledge to back it up.

"I don't believe she's lying about taking her meds, but changing her locks is a sign of the paranoia setting in. She'd calmed down by the time we got there, but I don't know. I'll have to check in a little more frequently."

"Fuck, that's a lot of weight on your shoulders." Eva rested her palm on Pixie's thigh. "What can I do for you?"

"Just be you. That's enough."

Eva tipped her head back and looked up at the ceiling. Her eyes burned, and she didn't want Pixie to see how hard those words slammed into her chest. Years and years of hearing how wrong she was, of how no one would accept her as he was, and Pixie just…did. And that was a miracle in and of itself .

"You might be the only person who thinks so," she murmured, her voice thick.

"That's not true in the slightest." Pixie's tone was fierce enough to fight some of the demons in her head. Most of them still sounded like her mother. "Eva Abrams, you're one of the best people I've ever met. Anyone who made you feel otherwise was dead wrong."

Before she'd arrived in San Francisco, her foundation had been ruined, obliterated. But those words, Pixie's attention, the way the crew here had welcomed her in so easily—they were the building blocks she needed to start rebuilding.

The car zipped onto the highway, the lights flying by as she soared.