The Waiting: A Supernatural Thriller

“He probably thinks he’s looking in a mirror, Davey,” one of the other boys said, and the entire gang broke up in shrieks of laughter.

A boiling sensation flowed over his body, as if a powerful UV lamp had been turned on only feet away. A savageness unlike anything he’d ever experienced before blinded him, and all he felt was the flow of air over his skin as he moved. There was a panicked shout that echoed on the building fronts, followed by a yelp of pain, and when he blinked, Evan saw one of his hands wrapped firmly in the big boy’s dark hair. The other hand held the scalding coffee a few inches from his face.

The rest of the boys stood several steps back, their faces pale white in the brightness of the day, eyes wide and staring. Evan expected them all to start screaming or calling for help, but they were transfixed by what was happening before them. The shock of what he’d done dissipated almost at once, and the rage returned full force as he remembered the mocking sounds that came out of the big boy’s mouth. He pulled Davey closer, yanking at his hair so that the kid’s head jerk around.

“Listen, you little fucker, 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 fucking 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.”

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