Page 77 of Reckless
“Let me grab my keys. We’ll both go.”
Mom had never volunteered to take me to a boy’s house before. I’d filled her in on what was going on with Archer’s mom and what had happened with his dad, so she knew the Vega family was as fractured and as damaged as a family could be.
“Let me contact Oliver,” Mom said, “let him know where we’re going.”
I waited near the front door for my mom to gather her things and do just that. It felt like ages until we were in her van and I was telling her Archer’s address. I still gripped my phone like it was my lifeline, but Archer had long since hung up by then.
The drive took too long. Every minute that passed felt more like an hour, and the more time that ticked by, the worse I felt inside, the more my anxieties grew. I literally felt like throwing up whatever was in my stomach, like I wanted to upchuck everything I’d eaten today, and then some. This…this wasn’t like before. This wasn’t like any of them before. This was so much worse.
When we pulled onto the road where Archer’s house was, we saw flashing lights. Red and blue; the cops, along with an ambulance.
“Oh, dear,” Mom murmured to herself, parking along the side of the road, somewhere she would never normally park, but this was not a normal situation.
I flew out of the car, rushing to the house, past the cops who tried to keep me back. “Archer called me,” I told them, not knowing whether they’d know who the hell Archer was, that he lived here in this house. When strong, uniformed arms tried to bar me from entering the house, where I could see EMTs fixing someone on a stretcher, I shouted for him, “Archer!”
My mom was right behind me, calmly telling the officers to release me, but they weren’t listening. They were trying to drag me away from the house, away from Archer and the horror that I knew laid inside that house.
Something had happened while we were at school. Something awful.
Archer appeared in the front door, looking haggard, like he’d aged a thousand years in the last few minutes. He stumbled towards me, and the police finally caught the idea that I was here for him. The tall, muscular boy collapsed in my arms, sagging into me so hard he nearly knocked me over.
But I stayed upright, holding him to me, watching as the EMTs came out of the house with someone on a stretcher. Melinda, his mom’s nurse. Her head was bruised, her forehead cracked and bleeding. She looked like she was unconscious, but at least she was alive.
It was more than could be said about the other woman who was still in the house.
“I don’t know what happened,” Archer was busy saying, speaking into my shoulder. “I came home, and…Melinda was at the bottom of the stairs. My mom…she’s…”
I wanted to soothe him, to tell him that it was all right, but the truth was nothing was all right. Nothing would be all right for a long while, not for Archer, and not for me.
“She was in her bedroom. Her wrists were cut. I didn’t…” Archer was at a loss for words, his blue eyes crisp with tears. “She was never suicidal. Never. Not even on her worst day. I don’t get it. I don’t—” He rambled on, hardly making much sense after that. The police must’ve questioned him, but judging from the fact that the ambulance drove off with Melinda and they remained, they still had work to do in the house.
Did they already rule it as a suicide? Was Archer pushing for them to investigate it as a murder, as he should? I saw no familiar faces here yet; the police that were here weren’t detectives or anything.
My mom stood behind me, watching our interaction with a passive face. Now wasn’t the time to play the disapproving mother; she was holding back, which was good. “With everything that’s been happening here lately, I wouldn’t rule out foul play.” Her voice got louder, and she shot a look to the nearest cop. “And I hope these fine gentlemen aren’t just trying to avoid more paperwork. I hope they do their job and look into this.”
With my mom leading the way, we went into the house and sat down in the living room. There, we tried to calm Archer. I sat beside him, an arm around his back. Even though it wasn’t her kitchen, Mom got him water, which he didn’t touch. Kind of like me, he looked like he wanted to be sick.
Mom disappeared, probably to speak with the police or maybe even call Ollie, leaving me to sit with Archer alone. Well, as alone as we could be, given the fact that, apparently, his mother was dead upstairs, having bled out right when Melinda supposedly tripped and fell down the stairs.
Odd timing for the both of them, wasn’t it?
“This wasn’t an accident,” I told him, knowing it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. There were no words to say, nothing to tell him to soothe his broken heart. He’d cared for his mother so much, he’d forced himself to be with Brittany for the last year. And now…now she was dead, and he was effectively alone in this cruel, harsh world. “I’m so sorry,” I added, watching those blue eyes turn to me, rimmed in red.
Watching someone like Archer break down made me all different kinds of depressed. Why did this have to happen? Why him? Why his mom? I hated that I had no answers, and that I couldn’t make it better for him. There was no undoing this, no taking back the afternoon’s events.
“I know it wasn’t,” he whispered, leaning into me. He held me close, breathing me in. I hoped my presence calmed him somewhat; I hoped I was a weight, a rock in this stormy sea for him. This was a pain I wouldn’t wish upon anyone. I wasn’t that cruel.
But, clearly, someone else in Midpark was.
When my mom reappeared, I pulled away from Archer, getting up. Being on my feet made me feel like I had an ounce of control here, even though I didn’t. “Have you found out anything?”
“Oliver’s on his way here. Detective Wilde should be on his way as well. I don’t know if they think this is connected to the other girls, but I’m going to push for it.” Mom, taking charge, even though it was for a boy who she normally would hate to see me with. She went to Archer’s side, gently setting a hand on his shoulder.
The look Archer gave her right then broke my heart into even more pieces.
“Archer, honey, you should keep yourself hydrated,” Mom told him. “I know the last thing you probably want to do is eat, but once Oliver gets here, I’m going to go pick you up some dinner. Is there anything specific you’d want?”
God, I really wanted to hug my mom right then. Even if she wasn’t a fan of Archer, she was being the mom he needed right now, the caring hand that would help steady him.
