There’s a flash of surprise on Jace’s face a second before I slam the bathroom door closed.
There’s barely enough space to turn around in this closet of a room, but I throw the toilet lid down and sit in a rush. Shove my hands in my hair and grip tight enough to make my scalp sting.
“As the Campaign Manager of this fraternity,” Jace says through the door, “I’m in charge while Ezra’s?—“
He pauses when Blake’s yell cuts through his voice. “I’ve seen better organization in a pump and dump scheme! Whothe fuckis on bun duty?”
“When you’re done in there, you’ll join us in the War Room for an emergency caucus,” Jace continues in the same dreary tone as before.
I hear the whining and the bitching from the next room as Jace proclaims the same bullshit unto the other frat bros.
Jesus, how I wish I hadn’t lost control the night of the Rain Dance. Not when I beat the shit out of Ezra—because fuck it, that asshole deserved it and I’ll fucking die on that hill—but what came after.
As in everyone wholiterallycame after.
I slip out of the bathroom and back into the TV room, grabbing the bottle of tequila and taking as many swallows as I can before I want to puke again. Gasping, I lean over, waiting for it all to come back out again. But tonight I have a steel stomach, and a platinum fucking liver.
My brain’s not so lucky.
Soon as that tequila hits my neurons, those still shots from Fucked Up Tuesday will be gone.
Fuck, maybe if I drink enough, I’ll be able to delete the whole fucking semester from my memory.
Don’t know why everyone stares at me when I throw open the War Room’s carved wooden door. I remember it being heavier, like when you pick up an empty bag you thought was full of rocks or shit and it goes flying.
“Yo.” I collapse into the nearest dark leather chair, slide down, and give Jace a mock two-finger salute. Then I tug down my hoodie where it’s riding up my back.
Someone turned on the AC, but it would have to perform miracles to clear out the smell of Austin’s BO. Even Nolan’s vape can’t cover up the stench.
Jace cocks a self-righteous eyebrow. “Thank you for deciding to join us. Now, as I was saying?—”
“Yeah, yeah, Kai’s gotta go see Ezra,” Nolan cuts in. “I mean, we all gotta, but he definitely has to.” Nolan turns to me. “Dude, just go see your brother.”
Jace swipes a hand down his side part. “Nolan is right. We can’t be seen as a fractured entity right now. People are starting to talk.”
“Yeah, because everyone’s finally figuring out Ezra’s a psycho.” I chuckle. “Took you all long enough.”
“Brave words, when your brother isn’t here to defend himself,” Jace says.
I scoff, trying to ignore how my face is heating. I should keep my mouth shut, because one way or the other, Ezra will hear everything I say while he’s out of action.
And, one way or the other, he’ll make me pay.
…Ezra has quite a substantial file…
My hospital file would have been a lot thicker than Ezra’s if I hadn’t disappeared into the woods after every beating that sonofabitch gave me.
As we got older, Haven had to play nurse. Not a sexy way, but in a ‘how do we stop the bleeding’ kind of way.
I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I’d had an internal injury that just looked like any other one of a hundred bruises I’d ever had.
Would Haven have fulfilled the blood pact we made before either of us turned ten? Would she really have buried me inthe woods without a word to anyone, a daisy wreath for my tombstone?
Even at our age, we knew it was one of the few ways we could rebel. Could cause some lasting damage. Leave a nasty open wound on our family that we hoped would fester and turn into gangrene.
If it weren’t for the woods, we’d have run away.
Would we have ended up on the beach, like we wanted?
