Page 162 of Someone Like Me
The flower is almost weightless, its perfume light but sweet. I try to hold Mrs. Vivian in my mind as I walk in the slow-moving line to her coffin, but I can feel Drew’s eyes on me the whole time, and all I can think about is my need to pass him the note without Tori seeing.
When I lay the flower down on the now spreading pile of flowers, I have one thought for Mrs. Vivian.
Please. Help me.
I have to make my way down the line of his relatives, awkwardly offering them my left hand because I don’t dare let go of the letter now. But as I approach Annie, I know that even if Tori looks at me, she’ll only have a view of my left side.
Drew’s sister frowns as I step up to her. She knows. She knows I’ve broken his heart, and she hates me for it. He might too.
“Annie, I-I’m so sorry. I loved Mrs. Vivian.” I draw the note from my pocket, so nervous I don’t even hear her murmured response over the pounding in my ears.
Drew’s eyes pierce me. I’m standing in front of him, and I don’t even remember moving. The look he gives me is hard, guarded, and the weight in the pit of my stomach tells me he just wants me to leave him alone.
Shaking, I take his right hand with my left, and it’s like touching a mannequin. He has absolutely no response to my touch.
“Please,” I whisper. I have to make this work. I have to let him know what’s happening. So before he can pull away, I lean into him, raise up on my tip toes, and brush a kiss against his cheek.
He smells like love.
I lift my lips to his right ear as my fingers find the right pocket of his pants. “Please just read it. But not here. It isn’t safe.” I slide the note inside the same moment that Drew’s hand covers mine.
I meet his gaze to find lightning in his eyes. A sharp intelligence, alert but mystified fills his stare. He’s looking at me like I’ve just landed a spaceship in front of him. His grip goes tight around my wrist, but I need to back away.
“Let me go,” I murmur under my breath. “You have to let me go.”
Drew’s eyes narrow in confusion, but he releases me, and I’m relieved as I draw away from him. That relief grows as I see him slip his right hand into his pocket. He has the note. He’ll read it later. He’ll understand. He’ll know I love him.
I only hope it’s not too late.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
DREW
I finger the wad of paper in my pocket as I watch her go. What does she mean, it isn’t safe? Is she in danger? My eyes scan the crowd for anyone threatening, but it’s just a sea of Grandma Q’s friends. Ladies from church. Her gardening society. Neighbors.
A thought occurs to me, and I do another sweep for any face I might recognize from Angola. Could someone I know have been released and be looking for me? Someone who couldn’t contact me directly?
But if so, how would they know to go to Evie? No one from The Farm knows about her. The last time I talked to A.J., I told him I was seeing someone, but I left it at that. Didn’t even tell him her name. So it can’t be that.
“This must be a really hard time for you.” I look down to find Tori Lalonde smirking up at me, and my spine tingles. She looks too fucking happy to be at a funeral. What the hell?
When I say nothing, the corner of her mouth crooks higher. “Of course, you know all about hard time.”
Beside me, Annie’s mouth falls open. She lunges forward, and I swing a restraining arm in front of her just in time. Still Tori flinches, and then she lets out a nasty snicker.
“Why are you here, Tori?” I mutter low. She’s already upset my sister. I should just let her go, but the hair on the back of my neck is telling me to pay attention.
Tori shakes her head. “I wouldn’t have missed it. Not for the world.” I can’t explain it, but I’m certain she’s not talking about Grandma’s funeral. I squeeze the little note against my palm.
Please just read it. But not here. It isn’t safe.
I’ve stared murderers and gang rapists in the face. I know a villain when I see one. The look in Tori Lalonde’s eyes isn’t just bitchy. It’s plain evil.
I have no idea what she’s up to, but I know it like I know the sound of a busted axle, she wants to hurt Evie.
My eyes narrow, and my nostrils flare. My blood might as well be gasoline. That look on her face is a spark.
I lean toward her and growl through gritted teeth. “You leave Evie alone.”
