I introduce Evan to my parents that evening. They don't look too pleased.
“Aren't you the guy that found her in the forest?” Mama asks, her eyes narrowing into slits as she studies him.
“Yes, ma'am,” he says.
I can tell he's nervous around Mama. Not only does he look it, but I get the sense that he is. He smiles at her, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
“Can I speak to you for a minute, baby?” Mama says, grabbing my arm and pulling me out of the room.
I shoot Evan an apologetic look, but what worries me more is the sadness in his eyes. It reminds me of the other two times I brought boys home and introduced them to my parents. One was Jamaican, the other Anglo-American. They got on well with the Jamaican, but not so much the latter.
It didn't matter to me who I dated, just as long as he treated me right. It's not like I have a lot of African-American options in Portland—the city is seventy-five percent Caucasian. But should it really matter what color his skin is? Not in my books.
I'm all ready for Mama to play the race card, just in case, so I start before she gets a chance once we're out of earshot. “Mama, I've brought home a white boy before, it's no big de--”
“That's not what I'm getting at, baby,” she cuts me off.
Her tone is harder than usual, and I can't help but shrink back a little. She only uses that tone when she's furious, and I can see it in her eyes. They're blazing black coals.
“Now tell me something, how well do you know this boy?”
I was afraid that she'd ask that question because I ask myself that question too. How well do I really know Evan? I shrug, which is the wrong thing to do. “Well enough.”
“Don't you shrug those shoulders and pretend like it's all good,” she chides quickly. “Haven't you even considered for a minute that maybe he's the one responsible for drugging you?”
“Mama!”
“Don't you Mama me! You know I have only your best interests in mind,” she snaps, wagging her finger in my face. “Haven't you thought for even a second how convenient it was that he found you, and is now trying to sweep you off your feet? I mean, come on! My mama-senses are on full alert! That boy is trouble!”
I'm shaking my head. That's not possible. Evan wouldn't do that. “He's not that kind of guy, Mama. Trust me on that. He's like me.”
“What's that supposed to mean? Like you? He ain't nothing like you!”
“He's a shifter like me, Mama,” I snap. “We're the same. And only he can help me be the kind of person I was born to be. You can't help me with that.”
She looks as though she's struggling to speak. Her mind is racing a mile a minute and she can't get the words out fast enough—or she can get the words out without screaming loud enough for the whole block to hear.
“Fine,” she says finally. “But you find the truth out from that boy yourself. And don't come crying to me because I ain't gonna be the one to say, I told you so.”
I'm so angry and hurt. How could she say that about Evan to my face? Evan and I share a special connection that she and Daddy would never understand. Why does she have to accuse him of doing something so terrible?
I storm back into the living room where Evan and Daddy are waiting in silence. Grabbing Evan’s hand, I pull him up to my room and slam the door behind us.
“That good, huh?” he says as I growl in irritation under my breath.
He can try to make light of the situation all he wants, but that’s not going to erase the words Mama had said.
As I pace back and forth from the foot of my bed to the head, Evan sighs. “What’s wrong?”
“I don't wanna to talk about it,” I grumble.
He watches me pace around for a bit before he heaves another sigh. He glances at my door. “Maybe I should go.”
“No!” I say, albeit too urgently, and I shrink back at the desperation in my voice. “I mean, I don't want you to go yet.”
The look in his eyes worries me. Is that fear or shame? “It's okay. Honestly, I heard the whole thing, and I understand where your mom's coming from. She just needs some time.”
I hang my head. “But I need you,” I say in a soft voice. “I haven't been sleeping well since you've been gone. And I wake up with headaches every morning. I didn't get them when you were with me at the cabin.”
His eyes soften as he steps toward me and tilts my chin up with his index finger so my eyes meet his.
“I don't have all the answers, but my guess would be that your wolf is at peace when I'm with you in human-form, and she gets excited when I'm in my wolf-form.”
He pulls back, lowering his gaze as he pinches his chin thoughtfully between his thumb and index finger. “It puzzled me at first when we were in the forest and you complained of headaches then too. So that's the only thing I can think of because when I was in wolf-form, I was longing for you to join me in that form as well. I realized as soon as I found you, and you freaked out, that you had no idea that you were a shifter too. I kept asking myself over and over, how is this possible?”
He closes his eyes and sighs. “I had no idea how deep this all went. But I do know that your family just needs some time to adjust to the new you. You have to be patient with them.”
“What about you?” I murmur. “Is it just me or—”
“Don't get me wrong,” he interrupts, cupping my chin in both of his hands and looking worriedly into my eyes, “It's hard on me too. It is. I've been struggling to find the energy to get up in the mornings and maintain focus since you left. I've turned away tours all week because I just don't feel up to it. I'm not sleeping well either, and I've been snapping at everyone like a bitch in heat. Keith's getting a real kick out of it.”
He groans, releasing my chin and pinching the bridge of his nose, as if recalling an annoying memory. “That guy is always looking for a cheap laugh.”
As he pulls away, a look of pain creases his face. “It's better that I give you and your family some space, anyway.”
I shake my head as I reach out and grasp his arm. “Evan, please.”
His eyebrows pull together as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Zara—”
“At least give me your number so I can call you.”
His Adam’s apple struggles to rise and fall. Nodding his head, he reaches his hand out. My phone is in my purse downstairs, so I grab a piece of paper from my desk and hand it to him with a pen.
When he's done, he looks more agitated than before. He glances at the bedroom door, and then at his feet.
His uneasy behavior kicks my heart. What's bothering him now? I don't like seeing him upset. If something's bothering him, it can't be good. What is he keeping from me now?
“Evan, talk to me, please,” I beg. “What's wrong? You're starting to scare me.”
He purses his lips, hesitating as his eyes glance back at the door again.
“Is it about what Mama said?”
His eyes meet mine for a split second before he quickly looks away again.
“It is, isn't it?” I sigh. “Look, don't worry about her. Like you said, she'll come around. Don't let her words get to you. She doesn't know what she's saying.”
“She's right though.”
My heart stops beating and sinks into the pit of my stomach. Lungs constricting, I find it harder to breathe. “Wha-what do you mean?”
“How well do you know me?”
I frown. Don’t I have all the time in the world to get to know him now? “You said that we’re mates, aren’t we?”
“Yeah.”
“So,” I stumble over my words, still trying to make sense of what he’s getting at, “So, what’s the problem? I have time. I have a lifetime to get to know you.”
His face is growing paler.
My stomach turns. I still can’t breathe. Nausea washes over me as I silently beg him to stop—stop whatever he’s thinking. I can’t stand to see him like this. He’s my rock; I need him to be strong because I can’t right now. My mind is racing with Mama’s words.
“Stop it,” I say. “Evan, stop thinking like that. Please.”
He snaps, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. “I was there that night,” he says, lowering his hands into fists at his sides, and his gaze falls to the floor.
The air rushes out of me, as if I’ve been punched in the gut. Stumbling back, I press my hands to my ears. “No,” the word comes out as a breathy whisper before I repeat it again, louder, “No! You-You wouldn’t—you couldn’t!”
‘Maybe he's the one responsible for drugging you?’
My fingers dig into my scalp and I pull on my hair.
This can’t be right. He would never do anything like that. Mama has it wrong.
“I saw you out on the street with your friend,” he continues slowly, “and I followed you to the club.”
‘How convenient it was that he found you?’
What if she was right? He had been there, in the background of that night that I cannot remember, and he was there the moment I woke up.
‘How well do you know this boy?’
He said he was afraid to reveal himself to me at first, and then embarrassed after the incident with the porcupine quills. What if there is more truth in that fear? What if he did drug me at the club and he was afraid that I’d find out?
As much as I want to believe that he would never do something like that to me, the odds are beginning to stack against him.
How well do I really know him?
I turn away from him as my eyes begin to sting.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t tell you sooner, but—”
I try to stifle a cry, biting down on my knuckles, but the sound escapes regardless. A metallic flavor fills my mouth and I release my fist from my jaws. Blood trickles down over my hand and Evan flinches as he inches to the doorway.
“I swear, I didn’t do anything.”
I point to the door as the blood drips over my knuckles. “Get out!”
“Zara, listen to me—”
“Out!”
“But—”
“So help me, God,” I growl through clenched teeth, “Just go. No more lies. I’m done with you. Got it? We’re done!”
The pain in his face darkens before he straightens his spine and squares his shoulders. “Fine,” he says in a low voice. “If that’s the way you want it. Go back to living a lie and popping pills. I’m sure you’ll be very happy without me.”
“Get out!”
The shrillness of my voice reverberates down the hallway as he swings open my bedroom door and steps out.
The front door slams as I collapse to my knees, clutching my head as tears seep between my fingers.
Mama and Daddy hurry up the stairs and into my room, but I scream at them to leave me alone. I’m surprised that they don’t protest, until I feel the pain rip through my head.
With every ounce of strength I have before the shift consumes me, I barricade myself in my room as my screams drown out the grinding and cracking of bones.
----
Author's Note: O_o *ducks and hides*