White Rabbit(34)

With effort, I ignore my brother’s taunting and repeat, “It was pretty bad. April is kind of messed up right now.”

“So’s Fox,” Hayden jokes crassly. I have no idea how to respond to that, and after a moment, he continues, “She say why she did it?”

“According to her, she didn’t.”

“I’ll bet.” He picks a fleck of tobacco off his lip. Then, “You actually believe that, or did she just figure out how to make you help her get away with it?”

“No,” I answer unsteadily, the money in my shorts as heavy as a piano.

“You’re lying.” Hayden states it, flat and certain. “Hope you at least told her to wipe her fingerprints off the knife.”

I gape at him in a silence just long enough to be telltale before I recover my wits and try to push past him, mumbling, “I have to give my statement to the cops.”

“I asked you a question, faggot.” Hayden grips my arm hard enough to leave a bruise, jerking me right back to where I was standing before. His eyes flashing like a warning signal, he growls through gritted teeth, “Are you covering shit up for her?”

“Leave him alone, man,” Sebastian cuts in, stepping forward.

“I know how broke-ass you guys are,” Hayden continues in a jagged undertone, his breath reeking of beer and his fingers digging into my bicep like he’s trying to reach my bone marrow. “You see a way to make money, you take it, right? Finding my kid sister with a dead body’s like a fucking blackmail payday for you and your trashbag mom—”

“Fuck you!” I exclaim, my face blazing, the world warping before my eyes. In my mind, on an endless loop, I’m watching Hayden’s teeth explode into the night sky, scattering like fireworks. I want to hit him so badly I can taste it—literally—a coppery, brackish film coating the back of my tongue.

“Hayden, what the fuck is wrong with you, man? Let him go!” Sebastian actually reaches in and peels my brother’s hand off my arm. I feel the lingering pain of his grip thud with each beat of my heart as my flesh rebounds, but I refuse to acknowledge it, won’t give Hayden the satisfaction of knowing how much it hurts; I just stare bullets over Sebastian’s shoulder when my ex maneuvers himself between us. “Nobody’s getting blackmailed, and nobody’s covering anything up, okay? Fucking chill out! What’s your problem?”

“What’s my problem? What the hell is your problem, Bash?” Hayden redirects, his tone hard enough to drive nails through cement. “What’re you doing hanging out with this freak, anyway, driving him around in the middle of the night? What’s that about?”

“I … we…” My ex-boyfriend retreats, facing down his own personal kryptonite. “We were at the same party, and—and I heard him saying he was worried about April, and it got me worried, too. I was … worried.”

“You were at the same party?” Smelling blood in the water, Hayden twists his mouth into a vicious grin. “How’d that happen? I mean, it sounds like something I should hear about. You guys are hanging out, driving around … now you’re coming to the homo’s rescue? I mean, Bash. Is he sucking your dick or something?”

“Some of us from the school paper were having a thing tonight,” I interject, trying to settle the issue quickly, “and Bash is on the staff. It’s not a fucking scandal that we were both there.” Sebastian surprised me, putting himself at no small personal risk by intervening with Hayden, and I want to return the favor. Too late, though, I realize I’ve made a grave mistake.

“Oh. It was for the ssschool paper.” Hayden mimics my voice, making my notable sibilance sharp enough to slice paper in half. “‘Bash, we’re having a little sssoiree for the ssschool paper! Sssay you’ll be there, oh, pretty pleassse!’”

“Stop it,” Sebastian mutters irritably, but Hayden is only getting warmed up, mirth gilding the edges of his voice.

“‘Bash, I hope you like sssausages and sssticky bunsss, because that’s what we’ll be ssserving at our little sssoiree!’”

“Okay, dude, let it go!”

“Hey, Rufusss,” Hayden continues gleefully, “is it true what they say about black guys? Do they have bigger sssausages?”

“Fuck you, man!” Sebastian finally snaps. With great force, he shoves Hayden, knocking my older brother back a few steps.

The atmosphere in the parking lot changes so quickly my ears pop, and I watch Hayden snap taut as a sail in a high wind. Suddenly, he and Sebastian are toe-to-toe, noses almost touching, muscles bunching under their skin. His voice lethal, my older brother snarls, “You better fucking watch yourself, Williams, and be careful who you mess with. I don’t give a shit who your dad is, or how badass you think you are; I will fucking end you.”

Staring helplessly from the side, I feel like a spectator at a round of Russian roulette. Sebastian doesn’t have my history with the Covingtons, doesn’t know that when you tangle with Hayden there is literally no chance you can win; even if a physical fight miraculously ends in your favor, a million-to-one chance, you still have to go up against Peter—the Final Boss in a rigged game that Sebastian has never played before. My ex-boyfriend is one swing away from getting that free night in the county lock-up that April has been dreading.