Page 20 of Riot Act
What? What the actual fuck is she talking about? Transferred to ML? Mountain Lakes? She’s fuckinghere?
I tap out a reply.
Me: Stay in New York.
M: Charming. My only son finds out I’m dying. Won’t come and see me. And then tells me to stay in New York.
Me: This town is NOT big enough for two members of the Davis family. Stay where you are. I’ll come see you next weekend.
M: What if I’m dead by then?
Me: YOU WILL NOT BE DEAD BY NEXT WEEKEND!
M: How could you possibly know that? You haven’t even been to see me.
I groan, rubbing my eyeswaytoo hard.
Me: The nurse said you have some time. Just give me a second to figure my shit out and I’ll come.
M: Too late. I’m already here.
She’s lying. She has to be. There’s no way she could have found out that I was back in the country and already transferred herself to another hospital. Only…a second passes and then a photo pings up on the screen: the view from a window, overlooking a half empty parking lot. In the distance, I see a lit-up sign on a bar. A bar I recognize all too well. It’s the huge sign bolted over the door to Cosgroves—the bar Wren owns. Which means that…I do some triangulation, landing on a very unsettling conclusion.
Sheisat the hospital in Mountain Lakes.
What the hell is happening right now?
I do not want to do this but texting her is getting me nowhere. I brace, every muscle in my body locking up as I hold the phone to my ear. She answers on the fifth ring.
“Y’know, I should have just given you a dose of your own medicine and not picked up. See howyoulike it for once,” she purrs.
“Speaking of medicine, how thefuckare you gonna do your treatment here, Meredith?”
“Oh, please, darling. I have everything I need in this cute little hospital.”
“Bullshit. Even their X-ray machine is nine million years old. You’re not getting treated there. I know you.”
“All right. Fine. I brought my own medical team with me. Sue me. They’re letting us use space at this facility. That good enough for you?”
Urgh. The woman has an answer for everything. Always. “Just. Please. Dear God in Heaven. Just go back to New York, Mother—”
“You know how much I hate you calling me that, darling. Please, let’s just stick with Meredith. And there’s absolutely no need to bring God into this. I’ll be seeing Him a little sooner than I’d originally planned, and I’d like to know that my son hadn’t been using His name in vain a mere matter of months before I have my final sit down with Him.”
“There’s absolutelynoreason for you to be here right now—”
“I had Freddy drop a package off at your house earlier. He left it on the doorstep. I’d be grateful if you could bring it inside. Don’t open it until I’m dead, though, okay?”
A huge swell of pressure builds in my chest; I feel like I’m about to blow any second. “Meredith—”
“I’m going to get some sleep now, darling. The drive was awful, and I get so tired these days. It’s really quite thoughtless of you to call me at this time in the morning.”
“You messaged me!”
“Good night. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. If I don’t, I suppose I’ll just have to come up to that school of yours and track you down instead. I’m sure neither of us want that.”
I’d argue with her, but the line has gone dead.
Everything is so painfully quiet all of a sudden that I feel like I’m on a space station. The house is practically hermetically sealed and soundproofed. The low, atmospheric hum of the air filtration unit is the only thing that disturbs the silence. I want to shout and scream, to tear the thick silence in two, but the walls of Riot House were perfectly designed to swallow and deaden noise, so my rage wouldn’t carry. Believe me. I’ve tried.
