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“True, but didn’t Emilio have a deal with Malcolm?”
“Deals don’t always mean shit.” He squeezes the ball and glares at it. “If I ever find out who did it though, I’m going to kill them.”
“Nathan.”
He grins at me and throws the ball against the wall. “I’m glad we got you back in one piece at least.”
“Yeah, me too,” I say softly, distracted. Nathan thinks Cask lit the fires, but that doesn’t make sense to me. Malcolm was at the Cask House that night and so were the majority of the Cask guys. Besides, he didn’t know where the boat was in the caves, and I can’t imagine he would’ve been aggressive and daring enough to burn the house down on top of everything else.
Malcolm wanted Emilio’s help. Now that Emilio’s been knocked out of the game, Malcolm’s stuck under the dean’s thumb.
It doesn’t make sense for this to be Malcolm’s work.
Nathan heads home and I go inside. Emilio’s sitting at the desk, scrolling aimlessly through Craigslist, looking at boats. He does that sometimes—the first time I caught him doing it, I felt like he was finally coming back to himself. Instead, it only seems to make him more depressed.
“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?”
