Page 23 of The Deceptions
Oh, snarky.
Malic's eyes focus on Wilder's hands, but I don't catch it as I slip between them. Eager not to get caught in Wilder's gaze and be recognized. Not that he would ever recognize me. My name is on a gravestone, after all. I’m dead to these people. But that's the last thing I need. Not to mention, Wilder was never my biggest fan whenever he popped up to make Mack's life miserable.
“Uh, thanks for that,” I say, shrugging lamely before walking away like my ass was on fire.
I quickly dart into the darkened hallway, my heart in my throat pounding viciously as I make my escape. I only breathe when the bathroom door shuts and the lock clicks into place, locking both of them in the women's bathroom.
Weird.
Their harsh whispered words leak through the door, but no matter how hard I try to make out what they're saying, I can't.
Bummer.
I sigh, slowly walking down the hallway that never seems to end. I pass door after door again.
I wonder if Wilder went and beat a little sense into Nick. It would make sense. Wilder always lived on the opposite side of things. Mack lived with Franco, who took him in. Wilder lived with their drug-addicted mom.
“Fuck,” Mack mumbles, putting his arm over my shoulders as the last bell of the day rings out. Kids pile out of the school at an alarming rate, racing to their vehicles in an attempt to put Greenwood High in their rearview mirrors. I don't blame them. School sucks and all that. But it's kind of a reprieve from home.
My brows furrow, following Mack’s gaze at the edge of campus. Wilder. He's leaning against the school sign, eyeing the traffic with a lit cigarette—or what I can assume is a cigarette—between his lips. Puffs of smoke roll over his head each time he takes a breath and blows it out. All without using his hands.
“You think she's okay?” I mumble, sticking close as we come to stand in front of him.
Mack's mom may still be alive. But she's a walking zombie. She only lives for the heroin in her veins and nothing else. Not even the many boyfriends she keeps on rotation. Hell, she couldn't do it for Mack and Wilder when they were kids. It's a miracle she stayed somewhat sober to even have them.
Wilder throws his spent cigarette on the ground and stomps on it with a sigh, running his hand over his shaved blond head.
“What's wrong now?” Mack asks, tightening his hold on me protectively.
“No hello, brother? How is everything?” Wilder scoffs, rolling his eyes. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out another cigarette, putting it between his lips, but doesn't light it.
“Not when you only come to see me when something is wrong with her. What did she do? Overdose again?” Mack asks, shaking his head.
“You're a little shit,” Wilder grits out. “None of this would have happened if you hadn't run away.”
“Run away? I was taken away, asshole!” Mack hisses. “I gave you an out!”
“And gifted to a goddamn gang leader. Tell me, how's the work? Huh? You're the reason she is the way she is. It's because of him,” Wilder accuses, throwing his arms around.
Mack gently puts me behind him and stands nose to nose with his slightly older brother.
“You're blaming me for her bad habits?” he grits out, pushing his face harder against Wilder's.
“I'm blaming you for being a pussy and abandoning your fucking mom and family,” Wilder hisses, pushing Mack in the chest.
Fuck. I've seen this a million times before. He only comes around when something is wrong to push Mack’s buttons.
And always succeeds.
Mack stumbles back a few steps, turning bright red. His fingers curl into fists, and I know he's ten seconds away from throwing fists.
“Just say what you need to say,” I say, stepping out from behind him.
Wilder snorts. “Oh, look! Your little girlfriend is here to fight your big, bad brother.” He rolls his eyes, stepping back. “You're not worth it, Macklyn.” He turns on his toes, taking a few steps before stopping and looking over his shoulder. “She's missing, by the way.”
“Missing? What's new?” Mack scoffs, taking my hand. “Don't come back until she's dead.”
“Don't count on it, dickbag!” Wilder shouts, putting his middle finger above his head.
