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“Good pet.” I lean down and kiss her gently. “Now, go back to Calico House. Make sure everyone there is keeping calm. I don’t want them doing something stupid.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to wait for Lesley to come home, and if she doesn’t, I’m going to war.” I kiss her one more time before walking off, already planning how I’m going to kill a house full of college kids and carry their bodies into the sea.
Chapter20
Kaye
Everyone in Calico House is an anxious nightmare. Dom and Nathan are at each other’s throats. Terrence disappears for hours. Jayson plays obscenely loud music. Paola sits in the sun and refuses to talk to anyone. Even Dirk cooks obsessively, offering people pizza, roast chicken, baked eggs, fresh bread, whatever other random dish he happens to whip up.
I hide out on the front porch, waiting for Emilio to come back.
The day drags. I keep thinking about his face as he came out of that teacher’s townhouse. Who was he going to visit? Who at this entire school could help us right now? His refusal to tell me anything concrete made my spine shiver and I’m still worried as hell.
He’s going to do something violent.
I can feel it in my bones.
Dusk comes. The sun begins to sink. Pinks and purples flood the sky. Paola joins me, but still refuses to say a word; she only stares at the glowing clouds like she can read the future in their curves. I’m about to go inside and check on whatever five-course meal Dirk’s whipping up when the crunch of tires on gravel makes me sit forward.
An ATV comes churning toward the house. Emilio’s driving, and sitting behind him is Lesley.
I get up and run toward them. Paola follows. Emilio parks, gets off, and holds out a hand for us to stop, but I ignore him. I throw my arms around Lesley and hug her tight, and I feel her grimace, but I don’t care.
“I was so worried. We’ve all been so worried. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
I pull back and Lesley’s grinning at me. There’s a bruise on her cheek, an ugly little thing, but otherwise she seems unhurt. “I’m fine, really. This isn’t even from them.” She touches her face and winces. “I slipped and bashed my face on a corner trying to run away.”
“Where have you been?”
“In Cask’s house locked in a room. I watched movies on VHS all day and Malcolm made me this honestly delicious fish and chips. It was kind of nice.”
I stare at her and shake my head in wonder. Paola comes over, hugs her, murmurs something about cutting off Malcolm’s balls, and leads her back to the house. Nathan and Dom come out, followed by Dirk and Jayson, and everyone swamps Lesley, clearly relieved that she’s in one piece.
“She really seems okay,” I say, feeling surprised. I glance at Emilio, but he’s not smiling. He grunts in response and glances at me, and there’s a darkness in his eyes.
“She’s full of shit.” His face tenses like he wants to say more, but he only sighs and walks toward the house, joining the others.
I stand there, trying to process. She’s full of shit? What’s that supposed to mean? Something else happened that she’s not talking about and I can tell it’s bothering Emilio. I don’t know how he got her back, but right now I don’t care. All I want is for Lesley to be safe and everyone to be happy.
We have a welcome home dinner—cooked by Dirk, obviously—and crack open a case of beer in celebration. Lesley seems to enjoy the attention and regales everyone with the story of her daring attempted break-in and the capture that followed, and she seems totally fine with how everything went down. The tension of the day melts away, replaced by an almost giddy, celebratory joy. We eat, drink, laugh, and only Emilio retains some of his anxiety. He’s like a black hole sitting in the corner, fuming, while everyone else releases their stress and tries to move on.
I sit with Lesley out back later that night. Most of the others are playing beer pong in the kitchen, and we’re alone in the dim yard lights. Her hands shake as she takes a cigarette from a pack and lights it. “Don’t judge me. I’ve had a bad day.”
“Where’d you get them?”
“Emilio smuggles them in. I stole these things from the basement.” She sighs and takes a drag. “I fucking hate smoking. Really, it’s disgusting.”
“Then why smoke now?”
“I need something to calm me down. I feel like my skin’s on fire or like a thousand ants are going to eat their way through my guts.” She leans back and closes her eyes.
I shift my chair closer to her. Inside, someone yells, and a riot of laughter follows. “Are you okay? You seem like the whole kidnapping thing was no big deal.”
“I’m fine.” She takes a drag. “And I’m not fine. Mostly, I’m not fine.”
I feel something sinking in my stomach. “Les, what really happened at the house?”
