Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
“Was that my brother?”
“Everyone’s worried about you.” I sit on the bed facing him. “I’m worried about you.”
“What’s there to worry about? I was Calico, but now that’s all gone. What’s left?”
“Emilio. You’re not dead. Nobody’s dead. We lost a house and a boat, but those things can be replaced.”
“Yes, but by the time we rebuild, the school will have moved on without us.”
“So we fight. We struggle. We start over and rebuild.”
He smiles sadly at me and shakes his head. “I nearly died putting Calico together. I bled for it. Your sister died because of it. Where’s the justice?”
I look down at my hands. He’s right—Lucy died because of her obsession over Calico meant she couldn’t leave Emilio alone. Now that Calico’s gone, where does that leave the person most responsible for her accident?
The one man that had the means, the motive, and the desperation to set two fires while our backs were turned?
“There’s no justice, but if we don’t try to start over, Dean Wotherspoon and everyone else will win. Do you want that?”
“No, I don’t, but maybe I’m tired, pet. Maybe I’ve had enough.”
I stand, shaking my head. I can’t hear this from him. This isn’t the Emilio I know, the Emilio I began to fall for. This is someone else, someone weak and broken. It feels like a stab wound to my gut, watching him languish, watching him slowly fade away.
I hurry to the door, only for someone to knock as I’m reaching for the knob.
I flinch in surprise. Emilio barely even reacts, only goes back to scrolling.
Malcolm’s standing in the hall, leaning against the wall. I stare at him, glance at Emilio one more time, and step out, shutting the door. Malcolm tilts his head in greeting, a small smile on his lips.
“How’s he holding up?”
“What the fuck do you want?”
He holds his hands up. “I come in peace.”
“You know, the last time I saw you, I was tied up in your sick little murder room.”
“We call it the boom-boom room.”
“Oh my god, that’s supposed to be like a sex thing?”
He shrugs, grinning. “What can I say?”
“My god. Girls actually let you assholes fuck them in that place?”
He waves me away, his face getting serious. “I need to talk to Emilio.”
“That’s not going to happen.”
“It’s important.”
“What could you possibly tell him? You do realize a lot of people assume you lit those fires, right?”
He doesn’t look surprised. “Would it help if I said I didn’t do it?”
“No.”
“I didn’t do it.” He stands up straight and sighs. “But I think I know who did.”
That gets my attention. I hesitate, struggling internally. I could send Malcolm away—and probably should, considering how much trouble this asshole’s caused—but if he really does know who’s behind the fires then this might be the catalyst I need to bring Emilio back to me. In the end, I’m desperate and I want Emilio back so badly it hurts.
“If you fuck with him, I will kill you.” I jab a finger into Malcolm’s chest and glare into his eyes. “I’m not kidding around. I’ll find you at one of your shitty little beach parties and put arsenic in your fucking beer. Don’t you dare hurt him right now.”
Malcolm laughs and shakes his head. “That’s the last thing I want to do.”
“Good. Get inside.”
He steps past me in through the open door. I follow him and we stand facing Emilio, who slowly turns to frown at me then at Malcolm.
Nobody speaks for a second. Malcolm stares at Emilio and I wonder what he might be thinking. It must be strange to see the former king of the campus reduced to living in a crappy dorm that he doesn’t even own with nothing to his name, only second-hand clothes we scrounged up from sympathetic former customers, and a beat-up laptop he stole from the science lab.
“Ballsy of you to come here,” Emilio says finally. There’s a flash of his old self in his eyes—wary and intense.
Malcolm must see it too because his demeanor changes. He tenses, arms over his chest. “It wasn’t my idea.”
I glare at him. He hadn’t mentioned that.
“Who sent you?” Emilio asks, not looking surprised.
“Who else but our mutual friend, the dean? He sends his regards, by the way.”
“I’m sure he does.” Emilio doesn’t move. He doesn’t flinch. He’s so angry right now I’m afraid he might explode and kill Malcolm on the spot, but he’s doing a good job at hiding it. I can only tell because of the way his jaw’s working.
“Look, I know you won’t believe me, but the fire wasn’t Cask. I wasn’t involved and none of my guys were. You know I was too busy letting you into my damn house to light your boat and your house on fire.”
“I believe you,” Emilio says.
“You do?” he asks, and I feel as surprised as Malcolm seems.