Page 47 of Boots & Scars

Her face fell, and she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "My dad is dead," she said softly.

My eyebrow arched involuntarily. "Is he?" I asked.

Everly nodded, her eyes downcast. Silence hung between us for a moment, heavy and awkward.

"Hey, can I ask you a question?" she said before I could respond further.

I sighed, already feeling the headache intensify at the thought of more talking. "Why do I get the sense that you're going to regardless of what I say?"

"Why'd you call me?" she asked, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her eyes were earnest, searching mine for answers I wasn't sure I had.

I ran a hand through my hair, feeling more exhausted than ever. "I don't know," I admitted after a long pause. "Because all the things I want to say to my cunt of an ex might be held against me in court, so I just decided who else has been a pain in the ass this week, which naturally led me to you."

She frowned slightly but didn't push further. Instead, she took a step closer, her presence oddly comforting despite the tension in the room.

"Well," she said softly, "I'm here now."

I looked at her for a long moment, trying to figure out what made this girl tick. She was an enigma wrapped in layers of naivety and unexpected strength.

And for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to push her away anymore.

"Why do you need to go to court?" Everly asked, scrunching up her face. "You weren't married."

"Well, darling, she's extorting me," I said, leaning against the headboard.

"What? How?" she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

"She wants money," I said. "That's why she was with me. And because we weren't married, and she's not entitled to shit, she's blackmailing me to get money. And before you ask, because I can see you're on the precipice of doing just that, she's threatening to say I was a cheating, abusive partner."

"But that's not true!" Everly burst out, causing my eyes to widen.

"I know that," I said calmly.

"She can't do that," she said as she began pacing the room.

"She can," I replied, taking another bite of the eggs. "And she is. Apparently, my reputation makes these accusations very believable."

Everly stopped pacing and turned to look at me, her eyes blazing with anger. "But you're not like that," she said fiercely. "You're... you're rough around the edges, sure, but you're not abusive or a cheater."

I smirked at her indignation. It was touching, in a way. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I said dryly.

"I'm serious," she insisted. "You can't let her get away with this."

"And what do you suggest I do?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't know," she admitted, her shoulders slumping slightly. "But there has to be something you can do to prove she's lying."

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "It's not that simple," I said. "She has texts, emails—stuff that could be twisted to make me look bad."

Everly's face fell, and she looked at me with a mixture of frustration and sympathy. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"Don't be," I replied. "I've dealt with worse."

She didn't seem convinced but didn't press further. Instead, she sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers playing with a loose thread on the blanket.

"You shouldn't have to deal with this alone," she said after a moment of silence.

I looked at her, surprised by the determination in her voice. "Thanks," I said. "But it's my mess to clean up." I cleared my throat. "You should go.”

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