Page 102 of The Hardest Hit
“Go away, Isabelle,” said Evan. “I don’t like you.”
She made a shocked noise and stopped dead in her tracks. He kept walking and made it to the elevator before she recovered. Once inside, he dropped his bag and coat on the floor and took a bottle of scotch into the living room. Everywhere he looked was something attached to a memory of Olivia. Finally, he just poured scotch down himself and tried to fall asleep on the couch.
On Tuesday after work, Dominique found him in front of his building, trying to work up the courage to go inside.
“Let’s go get dinner,” she said. He’d gone, but he didn’t eat anything. Then she’d taken him over to Aiden’s. He’d passed out on Aiden’s couch.
On Wednesday, he’d borrowed Aiden’s clothes and gone to work because that’s what you did when shit went in the shitter.
Jackson picked him up after work and took him to an appointment with his therapist that he hadn’t made. Dr. Nicholas helped. She always did. But all the same, he’d gone home and drank until he’d passed out on his couch.
Thursday he was back on the train with Devonte.
“You going to make it, man?” asked Devonte when Evan had swayed the wrong direction from the train and bumped into him.
“Yes,” said Evan. “There isn’t any other answer.”
Olivia loved him and there couldn’t be another answer.
And then he’d made it all the way to Friday. Saturday, he thought would be a problem, so he went back to Aiden’s.
“Did you talk to Jackson?” whispered Dominique.
“Yes,” said Aiden.
Evan stared at the upholstery of Aiden’s couch and pretended to be asleep. He wanted to be asleep. If he was asleep then he wouldn’t be awake. When he was awake he had to think about things. Aiden had offered him a guest room, but Evan thought that was too alone, so he’d just gone back to the couch.
“Did he say anything?” demanded Dominique.
“Just that he was working on it and to get Evan there on Sunday.”
Evan thought about rolling over and asking what Jackson was working on. There wasn’t anything to work on. Eleanor had made that pretty clear.
“He didn’t say anything else?” asked Dominique, sounding impatient.
“You know how cagey he is, and I didn’t want to ask with Evan in the room.”
“Will Evan even want to go on Sunday?” asked Dominique.
“Right now, Evan doesn’twantanything,” said Aiden. “I think it will be OK as long as we’re with him. I cannot believe she did this.”
“You keep saying that,” said Dominique. “I can’t figure out why not. It’s got Eleanor Deveraux written all over it.”
“Yes, but she’s not supposed to do that tous!”
“I think she does it to anyone she thinks is a threat.”
“Since when is Evan a threat?”
“Well,” Dominique hesitated, and Evan flinched. “He kind of used to be, didn’t he?”
“Yes, OK, he was not particularly good to be around growing up. But you can’t tell me hasn’t changed,” said Aiden.
“Don’t whitewash, Aiden,” commanded Dominique, and Evan heard the snarl in her voice. “I love him, but he was abusive.”
Aiden was silent for a long moment. “Sorry. Yeah, he was. I know. But he’s not… He’s better now, right?”
“Yes,” said Dominique. “He is. He’s genuinely better. And Grandma needs to recognize that.”
