Page 37 of These Witches Don't Burn
“The ones against your dad?”
“Yeah.” His voice shakes, and he slides to the floor, wrapping his arms around his knees. “But I didn’t mean for it to happen like this. I never wanted him to...” He trails off, unable to finish his thought.
I glance around the store to make sure Lauren is still in the back with her tarot client. When I’m sure we’re alone, I sit beside him. “What happened?”
He’s quiet for a long time, tears pooling in his eyes. I rest a hand on his knee, and he wraps his fingers around my palm. “He’s in the hospital.”
My body goes cold. I want to pull my hand away, but I force myself to hold it still. Inside, my magic battles against the binding charm on my forefinger, desperate to protect me from my own panic.
Finally, I force my lips to move, even though I’m afraid of the answers. “What happened? Is he going to be okay?”
“The doctors say he’ll make it, but he was in a really bad car crash. Someone ran a red light and slammed right into him.” Evan releases me and presses the heels of his hands against his eyes. “This is all my fault.”
“You don’t know that. Accidents happen all the time.” But even as I say the words, they feel false, and I don’t need a magically enhanced stone to confirm my fears.
“But it is. I wanted to hurt him. I’d meant his career and reputation, maybe have his new girlfriend dump his ass. He’s a bastard, but I didn’t want him in the hospital.” Evan takes a shuddering breath and scrubs the tears from his cheeks. “Even the money part of the spell worked. I didn’t know, but I guess my mom’s been trying to sell our house. We got an offer within minutes of the crash. We’ll have enough to pay off the mortgage and buy something Mom can actually afford.”
“That still doesn’t mean your spells caused this.” I’m trying to be supportive, but even I have to admit that’s quite the coincidence otherwise. “I’m sorry about your dad though.”
“What am I going to do? You warned me. You said I had to watch out for the Law of Return. What’s three times worse than getting hurt in a car crash?”
“I don’t think magic is quite that literal.” The bell jingles above the door, and Lauren’s tarot client walks past the window. I stand and help Evan to his feet. “Come with me.” I drag him toward the counter, where Lauren is adding cash to the register. “Lauren, do you have time for a new client?”
My boss looks between me and Evan and settles on a smile. “Of course. What’s your friend in for? Tarot? A palm reading?”
Evan shoves his hands in his pockets and shoots me a panicked look before finding something immensely interesting to stare at on the floor.
“Evan needs some guidance. He’s made some missteps, magically speaking, and doesn’t know how to move forward.” I don’t get into the specifics. Those are for Evan to disclose.
Lauren turns her attention to Evan, and she’s every inch the wise high priestess I expect from Lady Ariana. Lauren’s only thirty, but I can see now why she’s already a Third-Degree. She radiates wisdom and Wiccan power.
“Evan, is it?” she asks, and Evan nods. “Why don’t you join me in my reading room? We can chat in private.” Lauren heads toward her tarot room without waiting for an answer.
After a moment’s hesitation, Evan follows.
I settle behind the counter to watch the store, but my thoughts get tangled like weeds on driftwood. Poor Evan. I hope his dad is okay, even if he is a total shithead like Evan says.
The bells jingle to announce our newest customer. I turn to greet them and smile wide when I see who it is, my worried thoughts pushed aside. “Hey, Benton. How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better.” His voice is hoarse, and the words send him into a coughing fit.
“Here. Sit.” I grab the chair we keep behind the counter and pull it around front. Benton tries to wave me away, but I guide him into the seat. “You sound terrible. What are you doing here?”
Benton leans forward, elbows on his thighs, as another series of coughs wracks his body. “I saw some of the crap people posted about the fire. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine, Benton. Promise.” I lean against the counter and glance down at him. At the dark circles under his eyes. “Why aren’t you in bed? You need to rest.”
“I can’t sleep.” Benton rubs his neck and leans back in the chair. “Every time I close my eyes, all I see is fire.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Benton shakes his head. “You totally saved my ass. I’m sorry you’re getting so much shit for it.”
“It’s fine,” I say with a nonchalance I don’t feel. “It’ll blow over in a few days.”
He glances around the store to make sure no one is nearby and leans toward me. “Do you have any idea who did it?”
The question catches me off guard. “Not a clue. I assumed it was an accident.” Benton scoffs, which sends him into another coughing fit. I raise an eyebrow at him. “You disagree?”
