The parking lot rings with Rujkowski anger. A woman coming out of the sub shop freezes, sandwich in hand, and hurries to her car. Jason is breathing hard. Ella is breathing hard. I'm standing between them with my back against the G-Wagon and my knee throbbing and the full weight of Mayhem's warning sitting on my chest.
The bomb went off.
Jason turns back to me. Something shifts in his face. Past the hurt, past the betrayal, into something colder. "You know what? I should have seen it coming when she came to stay with us. You're just like your old man."
The words are a blade to an artery, but Rookie’s not done yet.
"He couldn't keep his hands to himself either," Jason says. "Had to take what he wanted, consequences be damned. Didn't matter who got hurt."
I feel the blood leave my face. My hands drop to my sides. Of all the things Jason could say — and he could say a lot; he knows me better than almost anyone alive — he picked the one thing that goes straight through the bone.
"That's not…" My voice sounds wrong. Thin. "That's not what this is."
"No? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like my best friend took advantage of my little sister while she was living under my roof with nowhere else to go."
"He didn't take advantage of me." Ella steps between us, her cheeks are red, her eyes bright and furious. "I started this. I'm a grown woman, and I made a choice." I can’t help but notice what she’s not saying in my defense. She’s not yelling that she loves me, that she wants to be with me for real.
But I can’t focus on the absent words because Jason’s not done yet. “Some choice,” he snarls.
"Stop it."
"You've been here two months, Ella. And you're already…"
"Already what?" Her voice is sharp and mean as his. "Already making a mess? Already screwing things up? Is that what you were going to say?"
Jason hesitates.
"Because that's what you think, right? That's what everyone thinks. Ella can't pass a test, Ella can't hold a job, and Ella can't make smart decisions. Little Baby Rookie, always messing things up."
"I didn't say that."
"You were going to." She steps closer to her brother. I see something in her face I haven't seen before, not the calm nurse, not the dry wit, but real, undiluted fury. "I have been a spectator in YOUR life since I was in diapers. Every car ride, every tournament, every family dinner that was actually a scouting report. And the one time — the ONE time — I start making my own choices, building my own life, you can't handle it because you don’t know how to communicate boundaries with your friend.”
Jason stares at her. I stare at her.
"I really hoped," she says, and her voice drops, the anger giving way to something rawer, "that once I started doing things for myself, you'd actually show up for me. That you'd be a better brother than the one I grew up with."
"I DID show up!" He gestures at his car, at the parking lot, at the whole scene. "I'm literally here, Ella! I drove across the city to pick you up from your test because Howie told me it was important!"
“Right. You’re here because BERNARD told you I had something important. When else have you shown up? Not the airport. Not in the dark when it’s snowing, and I need to get home from work. You’re too much of a selfish dick.”
Ella’s nose is red, and I think briefly about how adorable she looks before I remember that she’s in the middle of a fight with her brother… my best friend. She takes a fortifying breath and lets loose. “You know who shows up for me every day? Your best friend. So yeah. I’m sleeping with him. A lot. Huge fuckfest right under your nose.”
The sentence hangs in the cold air. Jason's fists unclench and clench again. Then he steps forward, fast, and his right hand connects with my face.
The punch is clean and hard, sending my head snapping to the side. I taste copper. My knee buckles, and I grab the bumper to keep from going down. The pain is bright and immediate, but nothing's broken. I've taken worse on the ice from guys who meant it more.
This was the punch of a man who wants to hurt his best friend just enough to feel like he did something about the hurt in his own chest.
"Bernard!" Ella is between us instantly, hands on my face, tilting my jaw toward the light. Nurse mode. Assessing. Her fingers probe the bones around my eye, checking alignment, watching my pupils. "Look at me. Follow my finger."
"I'm fine."
"You're bleeding."
"I'm fine, Ella."
She spins on Jason. "Are you done?"
