In My Dreams I Hold a Knife(81)

“Yeah, Mom,” he bit out. “I’m here.”

“Mark.” Instantly he knew something had happened. His mom’s voice was charged. He stopped in his tracks, in the middle of the street outside the frat house.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your father.” She took a deep breath. “We finally found him and told him about the takeover. He took it hard—”

“What takeover?”

“I’m taking control of the Minter Group. Me and Boone.” Boone—not the board member she’d cheated on his father with. There was no way this man would be allowed to take his father’s wife and his company. “The board passed a vote of no confidence in your father and ousted him this morning. It’s for the best. But—”

“When were you going to tell me?” Mint wasn’t proud of the way his voice cracked, but this couldn’t be happening.

His mother’s voice turned cold. “I’m telling you now, Mark. This is the apocalypse. You want a company to run one day? You want to inherit some goddamn money? Then you need me and Boone in charge. We’re the only ones who can fix the royal fuckup your father left us.”

“What happened to Dad? You said he took it hard.”

It was strange, really, how your entire life could change just like that, from one second to the next. And there was no fireworks show, no dramatic tilting of the world on its axis to signify how everything had suddenly flipped upside down, and nothing would ever be the same.

“I won’t sugarcoat it. Your father tried to kill himself last night. He took the coward’s way out.”

Mint was vaguely aware that he’d dropped to his knees in the street. That a car had swerved to avoid him, honking.

“How?” he whispered.

“An old-fashioned throw-yourself-out-the-window.” Her voice was grim. “Like a goddamn investment banker in the Depression. So dramatic. Don’t worry, he survived. Couldn’t even get that right.”

The world, spinning and spinning.

“You’re being quiet, Mark. Say something.”

He tried to speak but couldn’t get words out past the utter destruction, the firestorm of anger collapsing his chest.

“You can visit your father starting a week from now,” his mother said. “He’s in Mount Sinai. Send my assistant an email if you want to go, and she’ll book you a ticket—”

Mint snapped his phone shut and dropped it on the pavement.

He died right there on his knees, in the street in front of Phi Delt. The tidal wave of rage he’d been holding burned him to ashes, from the inside out. And so the person who staggered to his feet, who strode through the front door of the frat house, who grabbed Trevor Daly by the collar and lifted him nearly off the floor, who hit him, over and over, feeling the skin split under his knuckles, the bone snap, who ignored the hands pulling at his shirt, the raised voices, the shrill scream of the freshman pledge—that person was someone else, someone new, a creature born from fire.





Chapter 39


Now

The strike was swift and sure, straight to Caro’s heart. I watched her accept the truth of what I’d said in slow motion, time stretching out unbearably, though in reality it must have been seconds: First the shock, her eyes widening, giving way to understanding, an intake of breath. And then the betrayal, the anger, her face hardening. I stood there and watched it unfold, the small tick of time that undid nearly two decades of friendship.

“You and Coop?” Mint’s jaw dropped, crimson flooding his face.

Caro turned to Coop. “Is it true? In college, you and Jess?”

Coop nodded, jaw tight.

The room was so quiet you could hear the music of the parade, the steady beat of drums, right below us.

Courtney broke the silence with a bubble of laughter. “You have got to be kidding me. You were dating Mint and cheating with Coop? And you never told Caro, your best friend? I knew that East House Seven loyal-friends-forever thing was a crock of shit.”

Tears welled in Caro’s eyes, which were still locked on Coop. “You never told me because it wasn’t over, was it? It wasn’t something in the past. Otherwise you wouldn’t have cared if I knew.”

Caro, too perceptive, too late.

But I knew Coop would deny it. I wanted the floor to swallow me before he did, so I’d never have to hear him say I was in the past, only a college crush, and she was his future.

“Caro, please,” Coop said, but then Frankie moved, lunging forward to throw his arm over Mint’s chest, seeing something in him the rest of us hadn’t been paying attention to.

Mint yanked away from Frankie and took two giant steps toward me. I moved back out of instinct, the chill breeze on my back telling me I was getting too close to the shattered window.

“It wasn’t enough, was it?” His face had lost any pretense of control. It was past red, now purple with fury. I’d never seen anything like it, not on Mint, not even on my father in his lowest lows.

“It wasn’t enough to fuck the professor, go to dinner with him out in public? You had to screw one of my best friends, too?”

“Mint,” Frankie said, giving me an unsure look.

“You were a whore”—Mint laughed—“the entire time. Do you know how bad you humiliated me with Garvey? Do you even get what I went through? And that was just the tip of the iceberg, wasn’t it? How long were you fucking Coop? And who else? Who else was laughing at me behind my back?”