by Rina Kent
There are phones out, too.
People have been recording this shit.
I storm out of Dylan’s house with blood singing in my fucking ears like a Valkyrie’s Aria. Obviously, Addy’s long gone by now — I just hope to all hell they made it back to her place without hitting anything on the way. She never seems to realize how much she’s had to drink, Addy. And Jess was always too pissed to care how she got home — or if she even got home at all.
“Wanna go check on them?” Marcus asks.
I turn to him. For a moment, I don’t have a fucking clue if he’s talking about Jess or Indi, but then I come back to the present with bitter finality.
“Yeah.” I climb in behind my Mustang’s steering wheel, and Marcus hesitates before getting into the passenger seat.
As I turn the ignition, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I take it out and hurriedly unlock the screen.
She’s safe.
It came from the same number Addy’s been using to blackmail me with. There’s another message — one from my dad — but I’m too furious to read it.
“Fucking cunt,” I mutter. I throw my Mustang into reverse, grabbing Marcus’s headrest as I check behind me to make sure I’m not about to drive over some drunk kids.
“Who?”
“Addy. Bitch thinks she can get away with this shit, she’s got another thing coming.”
“What are you—?”
I make eye contact with Marcus for a brief moment as I turn forward, and he cuts off. “This bitch is done ruining my fucking life. You hear me?”
When Marcus leans away from me, I realize I’m yelling. I blink a few times and desperately try to compose myself before I slam my foot down on the gas.
It doesn’t work.
If anything, it pisses me off even more.
She’s safe.
Yeah, just like how Jess was safe all those times they went out to party without me. Those times my girlfriend called me from a strange bar to come get her because Addy was ‘on something’ and acting weird.
And she had the fucking nerve to demand Jess go home with her the night of Marcus’s party. That between me and Addy, I was one who’d let Jess come to harm?
“Dude, slow down,” Marcus says quietly.
I glance at him, and then do a double take. He has one hand on the dash, the other on the chicken bar above the car door. His face is a shade paler than usual, his lips a barely visible line.
I take my foot off the gas, inhale deep, and grip the steering wheel hard enough for my knuckles to go white.
“What happened?” Marcus asks.
“Thanks to you, nothing.” I shake my head, taking turns glancing at the road and back at Marcus. “The fuck was wrong with you tonight? I thought you had my back?”
“She’s trouble.”
“Christ, you say that about every fucking chick, bro.”
At this, Marcus shuts up. But now that he’s got me riled up, I don’t want to back down.
“What’s with you and Indi, anyway?” He was like this with Jess, too, but it’s worse with Indi. It’s like he’s taken her presence personally, as if every second I’m with her is an insult to our friendship.
“Nothing, man. Just drop it.”
“You coming unhinged or something because of all that shit with your dad? Now you have to make my life worse than what it already is? It’s not my fucking fault your life sucks.”
Marcus twists in his seat, mouth wide as he lets out a disbelieving huff. “You think that’s what I’m doing? You think I’m trying to ruin your fucking life?”
“Well, you haven’t exactly been cheering for me to be happy anytime in the last two years.”
Marcus gives a bitter laugh and thumps his hand on the dashboard. “I’ve been protecting you, bro. These whores all just wanna use you.”
“And you know this because you’re some kind of an expert? When last did you even try dating someone, not just fucking them?”
Marcus lets out a low growl. “Stop the car.”
“Not a fucking chance. You’re coming in there with me, and you’re sorting this shit out. With me.”
“Fuck you, Prince.” Marcus grabs the door handle as if he’s ready to leap out of the car.
I slam my foot down on the gas.
Addy’s house streams past — I barely catch sight of her racer before it’s dwindling away to nothing in my rearview mirror.
“You know her from somewhere?”
Marcus grabs hold of the chicken bar again, gritting his teeth as if he’s ready for me to crash us into a brick wall. “What?”
“Indi. You said she looks familiar. Is that it? Do you know her?”
“No! I’ve never seen her before in my fucking life.”
“So what is it, Marcus? What is it about her that makes you fucking pissed off every time we’re together?”
“She’s not good enough for you! No one is!” Marcus throws me such a fierce glare, my foot slips off the gas. The Mustang slows, slows, almost stops.
I jerk up the emergency brake, and we stare at each other over the center console. Marcus’s chest is heaving as if he’s run a marathon, and my heart’s pounding like I was beside him every step of the way.
“What…?” I manage.
Marcus waves his hand as if to dismiss what he just yelled at me. Instead of explaining himself, he fucks off on a different tangent. “You think you have it so bad, Briar?” He runs his hands down his face. “You don’t. You’ve got everything you could ever want, you just can’t see it.”
“If this is about your dad—”
“Shut up about my fucking dad!” Marcus thumps the dash again. Veins protrude from his neck, and the way he’s staring through the windshield — as if at something only he can see — is freaking me the fuck out.
I turn off the Mustang’s ignition before the tick-tick-tick of its cooling engine can drive me mental.
“Marcus—”
“You snap your fingers, and girls fall at your feet. Always have, always will.”
I let out a bitter chuckle. “You know that’s not—”
“Yeah? Not anymore?” Marcus turns in his seat, one hand on the dash, the other on his knee. It might just be this confined space, but I’ve never realized how lanky he was. I definitely have more bulk than him, but where I knew Dylan and Zak could take me if they teamed up, I have no idea who would win in a fistfight between me and Marcus.
And I’ve never thought that. Not once.
Until now. Until I see some dark glimmer in his eyes that I can’t identify.
Frustration? Regret? Anger?
“You get all A’s. A mansion of a fucking house. The best family—”
“Woah, yeah, really?” I cut in with a laugh. “A dad who’s never home, a dead mother? How the hell can that be—?”
“It beats a criminal for a father and a whore of a mother.” Marcus scowls at me, and then rips his packet of cigarettes from his pocket and lights one.
“I thought you said your mom—”
But Marcus has the bit in his teeth, and there’s no way I’m leading this conversation back to safe ground.
“My mother was a whoring cunt.” Marcus expels a fierce stream of smoke, raking his eyes over me as if daring me to argue. “Fuck knows how many men she was screwing. Certainly didn’t mind fucking my dad, but six years after I arrive—” He puts his fingers to his lips, blowing air over them. “Poof. Gone.”
I have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to say to that. I keep quiet, watching Marcus’s face to gauge where he’s going with all of this.
Marcus takes a hit of his cigarette, and smoke fills the Mustang’s cabin.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” I lean a little closer, dropping my head. “I mean, I knew about your dad, some about your mom, but—”
“You ask your dad about me staying for a while?” Marcus asks quietly. He’s staring through the windshield again, oblivious to my attempts at making eye contact.
“Wh
—yes.” I nod. “I did.”
“What did he say?” Marcus’s voice is cool and smooth as silk now as if we weren’t just yelling at each other. “You did ask him, right?”
I’m tempted to tell him I didn’t get around to it, but I’d just be delaying the inevitable. Best to get everything out in the open.
I shake my head. “I don’t get it. He made it sound like you were…”
“What?” Marcus cocks his head and slowly turns to face me. “I was what?”
“A delinquent.”
Marcus shrugs. “Aren’t I?” He flicks his fingers in the space between us. “Aren’t we?”
And then he laughs, and I swear to fucking God — I’ll die a happy man if I never hear that sound again.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Briar
It’s perversely sunny outside this morning, as if the world’s mocking the darkness of my inner world with its godawful brightness.
Thought you were king of the hill, did’ya?
No one’s gonna forget what I did. Not now, not ever. Might as well have served my time — maybe then people would have considered my debt to society paid in full.
We never did end up going to Addy’s house. It seemed so much easier to keep driving until I came to Marcus’s house. And then all I wanted was to go home and crash. I regret it now. I could have ended this all last night. Settled the score.
But when I woke up this morning with a new text from Addy, and that unread text from my father, the culmination of the two messages broke the last restraint inside my mind.
I glare at the safe in my father’s study. It was hidden behind the painting that’s now leaning against the wall by my feet. This one’s just as bright and colorful as the other abstracts in the room, but it depicts a fantasy forest of some kind instead of the seemingly random Rocher inkblot shapes of the others.
Not the greatest hiding place for a safe, but I have a feeling my father didn’t really care much for the location of his safe compared to the security of his vault. Maybe he saw it as a second prize to anyone stupid enough to come in here and try to break into his vault.
This pin code I know. There’s a handgun, our passports, and a few stacks of notes inside the safe. I remember the first time Dad showed gave me the code and showed me how to open it. I went around thinking we were part of an international crime syndicate for weeks before my imagination found something new to latch onto.
I know how to load and shoot the gun, but I’ve never had to use it. To the best of my knowledge, neither has my father.
I ignore it now — it’s not what I came for.
I’m here for one thing only — Addison Green’s motherfucking blood money.
I close the safe and hoist up the painting. As I’m adjusting it to make sure it’s hanging straight, something catches my eye. I turn my head a little and stare at the demonic face of some kind of goblin hiding behind a tree just a few inches away from my nose. It’s looking straight at me, it’s eyes so realistic, there’s no mistaking the gleam of evil flickering inside.
I brush my hands on my ass as I step back, grimacing. I glance at the right-hand corner, at the name scrawled in the corner, but I’ll be fucked if I can make it out.
Christ, what a fucked-up painting. Once you’ve seen that evil little shit, it’s ruined.
Indi
I force my eyes open, cringing at the pain. God, it feels like someone’s gone and poured a whole bag of sand in them. Rolling onto my side, I focus on the shape beside me. It eventually resolves into Addy.
Which means…
I push up to my elbows, and scour the room I’m in.
Yup — cardboard boxes, plastic wrapping. And, if I’m not mistaken, I’ve been sleeping on a bare mattress.
My aching bladder — the reason I woke up in the first place — drives me to my feet. The world takes a slow spin as I head for the hallway, hoping against all hope that the first doorway will be a bathroom.
It is.
I let out a long sigh as I sit down and pee. And then groan when I see the bathroom is as bare as the rest of the house — toilet paper included.
Damn it.
There’s a crash from downstairs. I drag up the sweatpants Addy loaned me last night as I stand, almost tripping in the process.
“The fuck?” Addy mutters as she stalks past the bathroom door.
“Addy, wait!” I run after her, just in time to see Briar bursting through the door. Addy and I both stop walking, Addy letting out a strangled gasp.
“What the fuck are you doing?” she shrieks.
And then she does the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen. She runs down the stairs and heads straight for Briar.
“Addy!” I hesitate for barely a second, and then I spin around and race back to her room. My backpack’s on the floor. I snatch it up, my hand shaking and my skin ice-cold as I hunt through the pockets.
Where the fuck did I put it?
“Get out of my house!” Addy’s voice sends a lash of panic through me. I’m just about to abandon my futile search when my fingers brush cool metal.
When I make it back to the landing, Briar’s standing by the busted-open door, hand fisted on the straps of a backpack, the other opening and closing at his side. Addy was at the foot of the stairs, but when he remains silent, she storms up to him.
As soon as she’s close, he throws the bag at her.
It hits her in the chest. She staggers to the side, clutching it to her as she bumps into the wall.
“Briar!” I’m convinced he’s going to lunge at her, and I don’t wanna know even a little where that will lead. He looks ready to kick, punch and bite the fuck out of anything that moves.
Despite the death grip on my switchblade, my legs lock, trapping me on the last step. For the life of me I can’t force myself closer.
Addy pushes away from the wall, her teeth flashing. “What the fuck is this?” she yells, hoisting the bag up.
“It’s what you wanted, you fucking bitch.” Briar scans the now empty living room, and for a second I feel like I’ve stepped into some kind of alternate reality.
Where the hell has all the furniture gone? Is it truly possible I slept through moving guys dragging out a three-piece living room set, dining room table, and the leftover boxes I saw peeking out from the kitchen last night?
If I did, then why the fuck is Addy still here? Shouldn’t she be headed wherever her stuff’s going?
“I want to feel sorry for you, Addy. I do.” Briar’s voice is dangerously low, but calm. He sweeps a hand out to the empty living room as Addy drops the bag to her side and watches him warily through slitted eyes.
“Briar,” I say quietly, finally getting my legs to unlock so I can move closer to them. Fuck knows how I can remotely help in this situation, but I don’t want my gravestone reading ‘Indi The Yellow-Bellied Coward Virgo.’ For now, I tuck the switchblade into the sweat’s elastic at the small of my back. Briar can easily overpower me, even with the knife — he’s done it once before. All I have is the element of surprise, which will be a moot point if he realizes I’m armed.
“I mean, it’s gotta suck, right?” Briar tilts his head, taking a slow step closer to Addy. She retreats, and draws the bag up to her chest again as if it can offer some kind of protection against Briar’s fury. “Losing your best friend. Losing your mind. Losing every last bit of credibility you’ve ever had.”
Addy’s eyes go round, her mouth tight. “You don’t know anything, you fucking criminal.”
His eyes dart down to the bag, back up to her face. “Takes one to know one,” Briar says, lips lifting in a sneer. “Now where the fuck is the video?”
I step closer still, but they’re so fixated on each other, I doubt either of them knows I exist right now.
Should I call the cops? Marigold? Who?
Addy shakes her head. “What video?”
Briar throws back his head and laughs. The sound makes every hair on my body stand on end.
“Yo
u gotta be shitting me.” He surges forward, hands raised as if he’s about to grab Addy.
Before I even realize I’m moving, I’m between them. Briar grabs me instead of Addy, and there’s the briefest look of confusion on his face before he tosses me aside like a trash bag.
There’s nothing for me to hit, so I just stagger for a few feet before I find my balance, but by then he’s gotten hold of Addy.
“You have your money, you fucking cunt! Now give me the phone!”
Addy screams as Briar backs her up against the wall. She lifts the bag, but he bats it aside with barely a pause.
“Briar!” I launch myself at them, grab his arm, and sink my nails into his skin.
He shakes me off with a growl. “Don’t think for a second I’m leaving without that video, Addy.”
I’ve never seen her green eyes that wide, that terrified. “I don’t know what you’re—”
Briar slams a fist into the wall beside her head. There’s a moment’s silence where all I can hear is the patter of plaster hitting the tiles below.
“Where. Is. The. Video?”
Addy bursts into tears, shaking her head. Her hands are up now, pressing into Briar’s chest. Not digging in, not fighting. Just keeping him back.
“Where is it?” he bellows.
Addy’s eyes squeeze shut, and she lifts her arms over her head as if Briar’s about to start pummeling her.
I surge forward, but my foot catches on the backpack. I go to the floor, grunting as the wind knocks out of me. I kick, trying to free my foot. When it remains tangled in the bag, I roll onto my ass and give it a furious yank.
The zipper was only partially closed. As I tug at the bag, it opens wider and spills out a neat stack of bills.
I stare at it. Gape up at Briar. Realize both of them are still totally fixated on each other.
“What’s the… what’s all this money for?” I ask, clearing my throat halfway through so I can get everything out.
“Don’t think for a second I’ll believe you’re not part of this,” Briar snaps, glaring at me over his shoulder.
