Hellbent (Orphan X #3)(95)

There was a knock on his door. Joey called through, “Wanna try that meditating stuff before you go?”

Evan said, “Yes, please.”

*

Evan and Joey sat facing each other in the loft. After Operation Getting Dressed for Dinner, he figured he needed to meditate more than she did. He’d thrown his clothes back on hastily and headed up to meet her in the loft.

She assumed an erect yogi’s posture. “Back in Richmond you told David Smith, ‘You can’t help people more than they want to help themselves.’”

Evan said, “Yes.”

He could see that it was taking everything she had to get the words out.

“I want to help myself,” she said. “I want to wind up better.”

“Okay.”

“Clearly I suck at meditation.”

“That’s not clear. It might be doing exactly what it should be doing.”

“Walk me through how to do it again?”

Jack had taught Evan proper procedures for everything from fieldstripping a pistol to readying for meditation. He started to haul out the directives now when he caught himself and thought of the new Commandment he’d invented for himself—and for Joey.

Don’t fall in love with Plan A.

She was waiting on him, puzzled by his delay.

“You know what?” he said. “Maybe we’ve been approaching this wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sit however’s comfortable. However makes you feel safe.”

She gave a nervous laugh. “I don’t know.”

“Then figure it out.”

She looked around. Then she rolled her shoulders. Cracked her jaw. She crossed her legs and uncrossed them. “Can I go to my couch?”

“You can do anything you want.”

She got up on the couch, hugged her pillow, pulled her knees in to her chest. She took a cushion and pressed it against her shins. She put another against her exposed side, building a burrow. “Is this weird?”

“There’s no such thing as weird.”

“Okay,” she said. “Okay.”

“Does that feel all right?”

She nodded, two quick jerks of her head.

“Just focus on your breath now, and let your body talk to you.”

He closed his eyes. As the first minute passed, he acquainted himself with the silence. He barely had time to narrow his focus when she broke. The first shuddering breath and then the storm.

She stayed hugging her knees, curled into herself, sobbing. He waited for her to get up and stomp out like before. She didn’t. She rocked herself and cried until the pillow was dark with tears, until her hair stuck to her face, until he thought she’d never stop.

He sat still, being with her without being with her. After a time it occurred to him that might not be enough.

He said, “May I sit by you?”

She shoved tears off her cheeks with the heels of her hands, gave a nod.

He took a seat on the couch at a respectful distance, but she nudged the cushion aside and leaned into him.

He was surprised, caught off guard, unsure of what was expected of him.

At first his arms floated above her stiffly. She was shuddering, hands curled beneath her chin. He thought about what Jack might do and then realized that Jack might never have found himself in a situation like this.

So instead Evan asked himself what he might do.

He lowered his arms to comfort her.

He wasn’t sure if his touch would elicit anger or flight, but she stayed there, her face buried in his chest.

She felt like an anchor to him, not dragging him down but mooring him to this spot, to this moment, locking his location for once on the grid. For the first time in his life, he felt the tug as something not unpleasant but precious.

Her legs flexed, jogging her back and forth ever so slightly. He held her, rocking her, as she wept. He brushed her hair from his mouth. Cleared his throat.

“You’re okay,” he said.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he said.

“You’re worth it,” he said.

*

Downstairs in his bedroom, he called Mia. When she answered, he took a deep breath.

“Hi, Mia. It’s Evan. I know I was supposed to be there twenty minutes ago. But I can’t come over for dinner with you and Peter. I’m sorry.”

Joey had finally pried herself off the couch to wash her face, and Evan had told her he’d be right back up. He had to head to Pico-Union in an hour and change, and he wasn’t willing to leave her alone until he had to. The imperative was as much for him as for her, the protective impulse spilling over into something more intimate, paternal.

It felt threatening and out of control, and he could afford neither at the moment. But he knew that if he left that sixteen-year-old girl alone after what she’d just gone through, he wouldn’t forgive himself for it.

There was a brief, surprised silence. And then Mia said, “Okay. Can I ask why?”

He was torn between what he owed Mia and what he owed Joey. “Something personal came up.”

“And you couldn’t call to let us know? I mean, before?”

“I really couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Peter made place cards and set the table an hour ago. Wait—scratch that.” Her breaths came across the receiver. “Sorry. I don’t mean to guilt-trip you. And I don’t mind that he learns to handle disappointment. That’s part of life. But I guess I’m not sure how to handle stuff about you with him when I don’t even have any answers. And that seems to come up more and more. No answers, I mean. Which I’m not sure is gonna work, Evan. I thought it might. But I don’t think it will.”