The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller(65)

“Listen, you little f*cker, my son was in a car accident and has brain damage. He’s gone through more in the last three years than you probably ever will in your life. Now if you don’t want me to burn the f*cking skin off your face with this coffee, you’ll get moving. You got me?”

“Yes, sir,” Davey squeaked. His voice sounded so high that he could have sung soprano.

Evan released his hair, giving him a little shove that he hadn’t meant to but couldn’t help. The boy rubbed his head where he had gripped him, his eyes full of tears and absolute fear. There was a beat, and then the whole pack of kids ran, the bottoms of their shoes kicking up dust from the sidewalk as they pelted away. They never looked back, and Evan watched them round the corner and disappear like a herd of prey running from a predator.

Shaun’s sobs brought him back, and he looked at his son, who stared at the ground where the banana split lay facedown, rivers of melting ice cream flowing away through the cracks in the patio blocks. Evan closed his eyes and sat, then held one of Shaun’s hands. He surveyed the street and saw no one, silently thanking fate that they were the only customers outside at that moment.

“I’m sorry, honey, I dropped it.”

Shaun gazed at him, his eyes rimmed with tears.

“D-d-drupa.”

Evan nodded. “I’ll get you another one. To go.” He picked up his coffee as he stood.

~

They arrived at the island around noon, the sun finally making its first appearance of the day overhead. A sickening sensation flowed through Evan’s stomach as he tied up the pontoon and carried Shaun to shore. Had he really meant to grab that kid? To burn him? No, he couldn’t have actually gone through with it—but he wondered. A second more without restraint, he might have. He might have tipped the cup and let the steaming liquid stream over the kid’s already burned forehead and drizzle down his cheeks, red streaks appearing like tracks of fire on his skin as the coffee did its work.

He shook his head. No, as much as it would’ve been satisfying to hurt the boy, he couldn’t have done it. Grabbing his hair had been a step too far; even laying a finger on the kid’s shirt would land him in court these days. He stopped, standing still on the dock for a second, his hands full of grocery bags. What if little Davey told someone, or one of the other boys said something to their parents? Would they be able to identify him?

Of course. He and Shaun were probably the talk of the town because they were living on the island, and with Shaun’s disability, there wouldn’t be much room for mistaking who he was.

He moved to the shade where Shaun rested in his chair, anxiety constricting his lungs. He dropped the groceries and sat, crumpling more than easing down. When he looked out across the lake, he expected to see a boat topped with red and blue lights approaching, stern-faced men in uniforms at its helm.

Get a grip.

He hadn’t hurt the kid, not really, only scared him, and the little shit deserved every second of it. Maybe next time he would think twice about teasing someone with disabilities.

A little heartened by the thought, he pulled his phone out and dialed Selena’s number, then ended the call before it could go through. Glancing at Shaun, he saw his eyes flutter and close, only to open again.

“Let’s get you inside, buddy. Dad could use a nap too.”

After laying Shaun in his bed, Evan hauled the remaining groceries into the house and put them away. He’d bought the makings for lasagna, one of Shaun’s favorites, and wondered if Selena liked it too. He reached for his phone again, to call her, and once more stopped himself, feeling needy and pathetic.

“Take a nap, you need it,” he mumbled out loud, and went to the couch.

The sun faded behind a layer of clouds, and the cool, gray light that filled the house was soothing. Evan looked down the hallway, making sure that he could see where Shaun lay, and put his head on a pillow. He fell asleep like toppling into an abyss before he could adjust himself into a more comfortable position.

~

He awoke to the feeling of soft fingers stroking his hair. As the vestiges of sleep left him, Evan thought it was Elle waking him in the morning, as she sometimes used to do. She would draw him out of sleep by dragging her fingertips through his hair and then trailing them down his shoulder and onto his stomach, where they would do a few slow circles before traveling farther south. Then she would pause, stroking his upper thighs with maddening restraint. He would be fully awake by then but still feigning sleep, a smile on his lips, waiting, waiting for her hand to slide over and ...

Evan opened his eyes to find Selena standing next to the couch, her fingers brushing his hair. He started, his heart leaping and then jigging in an insane rhythm. She stepped back, her eyebrows drawing together.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” Evan said, clearing his throat.

“I wouldn’t have come in, but the door wasn’t shut completely and came all the way open when I knocked.”

He cleared his throat again and sat up, acutely aware of the straining bulge in his jeans. What the hell had he been dreaming about? He crouched over his erection, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

“That’s fine.” He frowned. “I’m sure I shut the door tight.”

He traced back through his actions before lying down, and couldn’t remember if he had or hadn’t. Evan rubbed his face and looked around. Shaun still slept, although he’d turned over and one arm dangled out of bed and into the shadow below it. Something could grab him like that. Grab him and pull him under the bed if it wanted to. He shuddered, blinking at the sun that now sat above the mainland.