Game Over Boys, page 74
“It depends,” is how she replies, and I want to freaking scream. Instead, I force myself to remain calm, to breathe, to squeeze the boys’ hands under the table.
“Give me a wire to wear. Monitor me. Make me an undercover whatever-the-fuck. You said before that it was dangerous to use minors. What if it could save my life? What if I might be able to get something out of Justin that you could use?”
“Not feasible. Say he is the Seattle Slayer, for sake of argument. We use modern equipment; he hacks us. We play a trick like we did with the tape player, he removes it, and then you’re no better off than before.” Takahashi reaches for her bag, like maybe she’s done with the experimental part of this conversation, like we’re going to revert back to the same old, same old. Tell me what the boys have already told me a hundred times. Tell me all about how Justin is guilty while I sit here and do nothing about it. Now tell me all of those things all over again.
“If he knows you’re watching me, if he thinks you’re onto him and hurting me is the final trigger for his arrest, that’ll give me a fighting chance. I can go to school. I can talk to him. I can gather more evidence.” I’m pleading now. I don’t care. Remember what I said about my pride? I chucked it out the window a long time ago. “He loaded a revolver with a single round, spun the cylinder, and then shot me until there was only one chamber left. I’m only here because I played Russian roulette, and I won. You might not force me back into his house, but it’ll happen eventually. I can’t pretend to be a runaway forever.”
Agent Takahashi stares at me for nearly three minutes without saying a word. I know because I can see the clock on the wall ticking down the seconds. That’s a good sign, isn’t it? She’s at least thinking about what I’ve said.
“If he kills me, then you’ll know it’s him. You can arrest him and be done with all of this.” I shouldn’t say that—the statement gets all three boys riled up and edgy—but it’s the truth. “So why not give me a wire? What do you have to lose?”
“My job. My life.” Agent Takahashi opens her bag and then pulls out a notebook. “Let’s start with what you just told me, about Justin and the gun. Do you remember any distinguishing marks on the weapon?”
“Really? We’re back to all this?” I ask with a caustic laugh.
“I’ll make something to eat,” Maxx mutters, standing up from his chair.
“What a waste of time.” Parrish is staring Takahashi down, like he can wield his Prince Sloth charms against her and find a solution via a royal proclamation.
It’s Chasm who remains quiet for so long that I wonder if he isn’t totally checked out.
“What if I told you that I had access to the inner workings of the Milk Carton app?” Chasm asks, looking up from the table’s surface to stare Takahashi down. “I could show you how Justin found all the killers that he’s got working for him—including Amin Volli. That’s got to count for something.”
The way Maxx and Parrish look at their friend, I’m guessing this is the first they’ve heard of this.
“If you had this information, why not tell me sooner? We’ve been talking for weeks.” Itsumi sounds irritated, but a little excited, too. I’m surprised. Not sure she had that sort of energy left in her.
“Because if he finds out that I gave this to you, he might kill my dad.” Chasm’s voice is a strange, breathless thing. “But I’m worried that he might already be … I just think you should let me show you. I can reveal exactly who’s been committing the murders for Justin, and also how he found these people through his app. That’s good evidence, right?”
“It’s helpful,” Takahashi admits, “but it’s not a smoking gun.” She sighs and sets her pen down. I imagine she hasn’t had to use a pen and a notepad for her job in a long while. But hey, can’t hack a yellow legal pad, am I right? “Does your mother know that you’re asking this of me, Dakota?”
“No.” Itsumi and I stare at one another. “But if you don’t agree to give me a wire, I’ll go to school anyway. Justin will show up—before, during, or after—and I’ll lie to him. I’ll tell him I’m acting as an informant for you, and if it goes wrong, I’m dead. You can’t stop me from going to school. You can’t stop him from taking me when it’s his legal right. The only thing you can do to protect me is to agree to this.”
Sam Something (or Something Sam) returns, walking in the room with his hands tucked into his pockets. He pauses behind Takahashi, like he’s waiting for orders. She sits back in her chair with a long sigh, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Set her up with a covert listening device—and make sure everyone knows that we’re doing it.” Takahashi looks up at Sam, and he raises both brows. “Get her the tape recorder, too. We’ll be collecting it every night at eight o’clock on the dot.” She turns to me again, but her expression is grim, like she’s already regretting the decision. “You’re that convinced that he’s a killer?”
“Every single thing we’ve told you is true,” I repeat, holding her gaze without flinching. “If you give me time, you’ll see for yourself.”
She sighs and stands up, exiting the dining room without a reply.
“For what it’s worth—unofficially—I believe you,” Sam tells us, pulling a radio off of his belt. He smiles at us before following after Takahashi while the boys and I sit there in stunned silence. I’d find him creepy if not for that vigilante glint in his eye. The patronizing smile he gave Justin was priceless. No way my father would allow a pawn to look at him that way. I trust Agent Sam. Or Agent Something. I just trust him period.
“Tess is going to flip out when she finds us missing again,” Parrish whispers, but I shake my head. Because we’re not going to sneak out of here like I originally thought.
Remember what I said before? You can’t trap someone in a secret if they refuse to keep it, now can you?
As promised, Parrish digs Maxx’s old Whitehall uniform out of the closet and offers it to him. The latter eyes it with a curled lip but takes it with a begrudging acceptance in his face. He knows that if he wants to go to Whitehall with us, he has to blend in.
“First, I’m the creepy old guy attending the high school party. Next, I’m the creepy old guy dating a highschooler. Now, I’m the creepy old guy wearing a school uniform and going back to said high school.” X casts an apologetic look in my direction before heading to Parrish’s bathroom to change. “Sorry, Kota. Are you sure you still want to date me? I’d understand if you changed your mind.”
He says that, but he doesn’t remotely sound like he’d understand. The way he wets his bottom lip with his tongue confirms that theory.
“You pulled the trigger on yourself because you thought it would save me along with your best friends. We’re still dating. Now go.” I jerk my chin in the direction of the bathroom, but he doesn’t head inside or close the door just yet.
“Did you miss me that much?” he asks, and what I believe is meant to be a bit of a joke becomes gravely serious in an instant.
“Don’t you two dare get all lovey-dovey in my bedroom.” Parrish snaps his fingers to break us from the trance and X sighs, giving his friend a look before heading into the bathroom. “Hey.”
“I wasn’t getting lovey, just … contemplative or something.” I check the dragon clock for the time. Tess should be home shortly, and then it’s time for that conversation, the one I facilitated by asking an FBI agent to make me an informant. Oh dear. “You never know when—”
Parrish cuts me off with a kiss, one that’s a duality of romance and sex, one where his fingers trail down the side of my neck, one where he parts from me with half-lidded eyes as I gaze up at him, and he gazes down at me and—
It was just us. The ones who weren’t supposed to be together. The stepsiblings. The rivals. The roommates. Our love-hate had transformed, and even if the kiss we’d just shared had a duality, our relationship no longer did. The love had outstripped the hate, and this is what we had become.
Starstruck lovers under a glow-in-the-dark sky.
That’s when it hit me that ‘hate’ had never been a part of our equation.
What we’d had was tension: vibrant, impossible, real.
The only real thing we had.
My fingers claw at Parrish’s hair and he scoops me into his arms, knocking several items off of his nightstand in an effort to set me on it. Luckily, it’s a nice, solid wood piece and not some cheap pressboard stuff because he slams me into it, my legs wrapping around him as we kiss each other into oblivion.
With Maxx in the bathroom and Chasm downstairs, briefly trapped by my grandfather in conversation, we’re alone for the first time in what feels like forever. It’s time. This needs to happen. If circumstances had been different, it’d be just me and you. Just us. We could be happy together like this.
“Panties off,” Parrish breathes, shoving his academy-issued slacks down below his ass. He’s already dressed for school in his black jacket, lime-green tie, and shiny loafers. Same for me—minus the slacks. When selecting my bottoms today, I remembered Chasm’s ‘warning’ about pants and went for a skirt instead. Lucky me.
I untangle myself from Parrish only long enough to shed the offending underwear and then it’s game on. His tattooed hands slide up the outside of my thighs, cupping my ass and digging his fingers into my cheeks. He pulls me roughly against him, sliding his body against the outside of mine, teasing me and kissing me and making me want him even more.
“For two weeks, I contemplated what I’d do without you,” he whispers, but I’m already shaking my head at him.
“For nineteen days, I contemplated what I’d do without you.” That’s my retort. Somehow it comes out more as a come-on, and Parrish gives this soft, tender growl, like he’s giving into something he never believed could be his. A lifetime romance. A friend forever. A partner.
It’s rare for such a thing to happen at our age, but it does happen. And it can happen at any time to anyone. It’s never too late to give or receive love. Never.
Parrish thrusts into me, filling me up and slamming the nightstand against the wall.
Maxx chooses that moment to step out of the bathroom, dressed in his uniform but with the shirt unbuttoned, hands raised like he was intending on buttoning it but never quite got to it. Also, Chasm walks in the bedroom door, stumbling when he sees how Parrish and I are engaged and turning suddenly to block whoever might be out in the hallway.
“Sorry, Maxine. Not right now.” He shuts the door quickly, locks it, and turns back to me and Parrish. I see all of this peripherally, like it’s in a haze. Mostly, it’s me and Parrish.
That’s what I continue to focus on: his handsome face, the taste of his mouth, the feel of his hands. His body inside of mine. He fills me up in ways that aren’t physical, like a balm to the soul.
“Doing it in your school uniforms before class.” Maxx tsks his tongue and tries to make his words into a sultry tease. That’s not how the sound comes out. He sounds like he … I don’t know … wants to join us?
“I can’t leave you guys alone for a second,” Chasm murmurs, coming over to sit on the bed in his own uniform. He parks himself at the end of it, putting his elbows on his knees, folding his hands together. His amber eyes are on mine as Parrish slides in and out of me, already working my body up into a fine sweat. My stomach muscles feel knotted, the space between my thighs aching and throbbing, clutching at Parrish’s body and encouraging him to move faster and harder. My hands clutch at his ass, yanking him against me, moaning and writhing and—
There’s a sound at the door, like someone’s using a key. Chasm shoves up to his feet, Maxx rushes forward, but it’s too late.
It swings open, Tess is standing there, my grandparents are standing there, Saffron is standing there, and … it’s over.
I close my eyes, bury my face against Parrish’s neck, and wish that Justin had sent me to the afterlife already.
“It’s a perfectly natural thing,” Carmen tries, but Tess levels a stare on her that ends with the pair of them in silence, an unspoken ‘I’m the guardian of Dakota’ battle. My grandmother isn’t one to lose a fight, but she gives in, knowing that it’s time for Tess to take over parenting me.
We’re all seated at the kitchen table in our uniforms, speechless, embarrassed. Well, Parrish and I are embarrassed again in front of our own mother. So fucking awkward. My grandparents are making it worse by trying to be understanding and gently asking questions.
“This is pure hell,” I whisper, but I can’t look at Parrish. Can’t look at Chasm or Maxx either. Definitely can’t look at my mother. Not the bio mom or the adoptive mom.
“No shame in what happened,” Saffron offers with a chuckle, trying to figure out the espresso machine. For lack of something better to do, Chasm gets up and goes over there to help her make a cappuccino or something. I’ve already heard Saffron complain that there’s no regular ol’ coffeepot, like all she wants is ‘a goddamn cup o’ joe’. “Just let ‘em be. Young adults are balls of hormones.”
“Saffron Banks,” Carmen whispers as Walter stands in the living room, looking out the front windows and definitely not at Parrish (I think my grandpa wants him dead). Maxine looks absolutely mortified, positioned near the refrigerator, staring at our mother like she’s got serious secondhand embarrassment.
Tess says nothing, but when Saffron glances back at her, their eyes meet and the latter sighs dramatically.
“Alright, alright. We’ve had fourteen years with Dakota; you’ve only had two. You go for it.” Saffron returns her attention to the espresso machine as Chasm cringes, and Maxx snorts, Parrish stays broodingly silent, and Tess steams.
“I came upstairs to find your door locked. Imagine how that might make me feel? You were kidnapped from that very room.” Tess steps closer to the kitchen table, her gaze dark as she studies me and Parrish. Maxx isn’t spared the glare nor is Chasm. I guess they’re also somewhat responsible for the locked door even if they weren’t directly involved in the, um, other stuff.
“We …” Parrish trails off and then shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“Sorry,” I repeat.
Maxx says nothing, but I hear Chasm murmur mianhaeyo.
There’s a strange tension in the air. That’s what causes me to look up and meet Tess’ eyes. Knowing that she saw me and Parrish mid-coitus, I want to die. Looking at her feels impossible, but I somehow find the strength to hold her stare.
“The sex stuff, I can’t even … I don’t want to … you’re both my kids.” She exhales and closes her eyes, reaching up to push some loose strands of hair from her forehead. “But at this point, I don’t know that I have the energy left to fight you on it.”
“Something happened today, didn’t it?” I ask, and Parrish stands up suddenly, scraping his chair back across the floor.
“Mom, what’s going on?” he asks, slipping past me and Maxx to move over next to her.
Tess’ lips are pursed as she opens her eyes and surveys the room and everyone in it.
“I’ve been charged on multiple counts, and it’s not looking good. The best I can hope for is a plea deal that gets me a couple of years.”
“What?!” Parrish grabs onto her arm, eyes wide and frantic. “What do you mean? You were defending your daughter. You were protecting us all. You were—”
“I tried to shoot an unarmed, presumed innocent-until-guilty man in a crowd of people. That means I don’t have a lot of time to handle this.” She turns to me next, and there’s a war going on inside her eyes that I understand far too well. She’s afraid for me, for herself, for this entire family, and she knows she’s going to have to make a hard choice. “I heard from Agent Takahashi about your plan.”
I swallow hard as she takes in my uniform, the boys’ uniforms. She pauses on Maxx and lifts a brow, and he flushes all over. It’s one of the only times I’ve ever seen him blush.
“We thought if I got a visitor’s pass and went to school with them—”
Tess holds up a hand to cut him off.
“Where you going to sneak out on me?” she asks softly, but then I’m standing up and Chasm is placing a freshly made flat white into Tess’ hands in silent apology. She takes it with a smile and reaches out to ruffle his hair.
“We weren’t,” he promises, looking down at his uniform and then shaking his head. “We were hoping that you’d come back, that we’d talk about this, and that we’d go to school today. It’s time for us to go back to Whitehall.”
My sister moves over to the table to sit across from me, and we share a silent look that says we need to have some girl talk at some point. I turn back to Tess.
“We’re all about transparency from here on out. If you say you don’t want us to do this, we won’t.” I swallow a hard lump. This is me putting a huge amount of faith in my mother.
She stands there for a while, gaze lifting to Saffron. They stare at each other, and I can’t help but wonder if Tess really is hoping for a miracle from the woman that was once her greatest rival (and might still be, in a way). Saffron lifts her cappuccino in salute as Tess turns back to us.
“I’ve discussed the issue with Agent Takahashi, and I agree on some aspects. We can’t stay holed up forever, but I also can’t allow you to be alone with him. Tell me how you think you can pull this off without him dragging you home under the guise of the custody agreement.”
I nod, taking a deep breath to ground myself.
It’s not up to Tess to handle Justin, not up to Saffron, not up to me either. I reach my hand down and subconsciously touch my fingers to my tattoo.
There is only one way for us to handle this situation: together.
“Here’s what I’m thinking …”
The decision has been made: we’re going back to Whitehall tomorrow.
“Who do you think is scarier?” Chas asks, eating chips from a bag as he sits in his usual spot on the windowsill. What’s not usual is that the window is closed and he’s not smoking. I’ll celebrate that latter victory, but it still disturbs me to see him that close to the glass. What if Amin Volli is sneaking around out there? “The Seattle Slayer or the students at Whitehall?”
