Page 74 of Riot Rules
He smiles a ruinous smile. “Of course, Miss Mendoza. I swear it on my life.”
30
DASH
“We should puthim in the fucking ground.”
Pax is seething. He’s already punched a hole in the living room wall, which will have to be patched up. Wren just sat there and watched him do it. Didn’t scream. Didn’t shout. Didn’t give him a black eye. He literally did nothing. He’s been staring at the damage to the wall like it’s a newly formed black hole that might be a portal to another universe and he’s wondering how he’ll fit through.
“What a piece of fucking work. He has the gall to come to our party, steals our drugs, and then blackmails us with them when his girlfriend goes missing? That’s beyond fucked.”
Wren blinks.
Pax and I discussed it before he came back from his interview with the cops, and we’ve decided to stick to our guns. Or rather our silence. Wren still hasn’t admitted his relationship with Fitz, and at this point we can’t say anything about it without making this whole thing even fucking worse. We just have to wait it out until he’s ready to say something. Which I’m beginning to think he never will. I have no interest in forcing him to confess to something that he doesn’t want to talk about, and neither does Pax, so we’re sticking to the line that Fitz is just concerned over being connected to Mara’s disappearance.
After a long time staring at the hole that Pax made in the wall, Wren says, “So…Mercy.Mercydid this. She told Fitz I was screwing Mara. Even though sheknewI wasn’t.”
I shoot Pax an uncomfortable look. “I wasn’t there, man. I don’t know what was said.”
Pax throws his hands up. “Don’t fucking ask me. I was getting my dick sucked in the upstairs bathroom.”
That’s a topic for another time, I think. Wren’s eyes look really glassy. “She’s dead to me. Fucking dead.”
“Come on, dude. Mara’s going to show up tomorrow. All of this will blow over. Mercy will apologize like she always does, and all of this will be forgotten by Christmas.” I sound convincing enough. I don’t believe a word I’m saying, but I have to do something to try and diffuse the tension that’s gathering like a storm cloud around our friend. Something very bad is going to happen if I don’t.
He just huffs. “I’m going to bed.”
Once he’s disappeared upstairs, Pax locks me in a dark stare that pierces through skin, muscle and bone. “Well?” he says.
“Well what?”
“Youknowwhat,” he growls.
I’ve been waiting for this. Dreading it. Carina said he told her he wasn’t going to say anything, but I’ve lived with Pax for quite some time now. And after all the bullshit we’ve been through today, and all the other shit wecan’ttalk to Wren about, I knew he was going to bring this up. It’s probably been eating at him all day. I sigh. “What do you wanna know?”
“How long? And why lie about it?”
“Two months.” I wait for the fireworks. When they don’t come, I take a deep breath and attempt to tackle his second question. “And I lied about it because I like her, Pax. Really like her. And I didn’t wanna make a game out of breaking her fucking heart. Is that so bad?”
Pax never talks about his tattoos. He didn’t have any when we first came to Wolf Hall, back when we were skinny fourteen-year-olds. About a year ago, he told us he was going home to New York for the weekend, got into his car, and drove off. When he came back, he had the outline of his first sleeve on his right arm. Wren arched an eyebrow at the fresh ink in that very Wren-like way of his. I shook my head, sighed, but didn’t say a word. Pax isn’t a sharer. None of us are. We don’t probe into each other’s shit and we don’t ask questions. Pax’s ink has slowly crept across the expanse of his body over the past twelve months, and now it’s begun to creep up his neck. It hits me, looking at him across the living room, that he isn’t the same person I met when school started. He’s undergone some sort of transformation, a metamorphosis, and I know absolutely nothing about it.
It’s fucking stupid. All of this is fucking stupid.
“I shouldn’t have kept it a secret. I should have told you guys. You’re right. Wren shouldn’t be keeping his shit with Fitz a secret. And you? Fuck knows whatyou’renot tellingus. Maybe it’s time for us all to put our cards on the table. I wanna be with Carina. There. I fucking said it. I’m gonna be with Carina, and I swear to God, I’ll break your fucking neck if you so much as look sideways at her, bro. I’m not fucking kidding.”
Pax doesn’t say anything. He folds his arms across his chest, glaring at me.
“Well? What? Is this where you call me an asshole and tell me that I’m jeopardizing our friendship? Putting a girl before the house?” I’m ready for these arguments. I’m prepared to defend myself against them. What I am not prepared for is:
“My dad died. Last winter. Just…dropped down dead in the middle of dinner. Mom said it was like something out of a comedy sketch. His head bounced off the table. Almost landed in his fucking soup.”
“What?”
He scratches his chin. “Pulmonary embolism. They said it was because he was flying all the time. A blood clot formed in his leg or some shit and traveled up through his body. Lodged in his lungs. Something went wrong, and he just…” He snaps his fingers. “Died.”
Pax’s relationship with his parents has always been rocky. His mother in particular. We give him shit about her all the time, but only because we know he secretly cares about her. His dad, though? His dad rarely comes up in conversation. And now…he’sdead? He’s been dead for a long fucking time! “I’m sorry, man. I don’t—I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything. The guy’s gone. Nothing to be done about it. That’s life.”
