"Wanna fight?" Arpad pushes up the sleeves of his sweat shirt. He advances and Edward steps between them.
"Stop it, you guys."
"Keep out of it, Ed." Arpad glowers. "Let me teach that piece of shit that he can’t threaten without following through on his promises."
"It’s you who needs to watch out, pretty boy." Weston swipes around Edward. Arpad ducks, and Weston stumbles forward.
Edward jumps aside as Weston topples to the floor. Arpad reaches down to haul Weston up by his collar, his fist poised in front of Weston’s face, when Edward declares, "I’m joining the seminary."
"What?" Baron turns to him, "What did you?—?"
Weston’s fist crashes into Arpad’s cheek. His head snaps back. The next second, he jumps forward, throws himself at Weston. The two crash, going down in a tangle of arms and legs.
"Timberrrr!" Saint runs forward and jumps on them.
There’s a yell from someone. Arpad? Someone else groans, probably Wes, as he currently constitutes the base of the human pyramid.
"Enough." Edward places his fingers to his mouth and whistles. The sound pierces through the space, and silence descends again. This time, broken only by the groans and grunts of the three imbeciles on the ground.
Baron and I exchange glances, then march toward the knobheads. I grab Saint by his collar, haul him up and shove him aside.
Baron grabs Arpad and throws him the other way. Arpad stumbles over and collapses onto the couch as Weston turns on his back and groans. "Jesus." He frowns, "What the fuck is wrong with you guys?"
"What’s wrong with you, that you started a fight? You… The most easygoing of all of us."
He sits up, rubs his chin. He holds out his hand and I grasp it and haul him to his feet. "Seriously, though, Wes, the hell is up with you?"
"Nothing," he mumbles. "It wasn’t easy coming to thisdecision, and it certainly didn’t help when Arpad, asshole, decided to shit all over it either."
The skin tightens across his cheeks. I take in his tense features, his flared nostrils, the dilated eyes. "Jesus, you’re scared, huh?’
"Of course, not."
"Don’t shit me, man," I growl. "You’re worried you won’t make it through the courses."
"I have to." He squeezes his eyes shut. "When my father died of a heart attack, I swore I’d never be that helpless again. He collapsed right in front of my eyes, and I couldn’t do anything to help him. I tried to help, you know. Gave him CPR and stuff…but it didn’t help. I couldn’t do anything but watch as he choked in front of my eyes. By the time the first responders had arrived, he was gone."
"Shit," I grab his shoulder and squeeze, "you can’t blame yourself for what happened. It was as much of a twist of fate as…as…"
"The Seven of us being kidnapped."
My heart begins to thud. The taste of the rag that had been stuffed into my mouth, the ropes that had been tied around my arms and ankles, which had cut into my skin every time I had moved—it all returns in a rush of sensation. They’d blindfolded me so I wouldn’t know where I was. Days… Weeks… I had spent in the darkness, with only my thoughts for company.Shit.
I play with the clasp of my watch—click-click-click—and the sound reaches me, steadies me, grounds me. I draw in one breath, then another, open my eyes to find the rest watching me.
"You okay, Sinner?" Saint asks.
"Why wouldn’t I be?" I snap. "Unlike Edward here, who’s decided he’s going to run away and join a monastery?—"
"A seminary, you prick."
"Shouldn’t you stop swearing now that you are on your way to becoming a man of God?"
"I am still here, aren’t I?" Edward remarks.
"For how long, though?" Baron growls. "And when did you come to this awesome decision of running away?"
"I decided yesterday." He runs his fingers under the collar of his shirt. Huh? If I’m not mistaken Ed seems nervous. And Ed’s never nervous. He’s the most collected of us. So why the hell is there a sheen of sweat on his forehead?
