Page 131 of A Dead Man's B-Side
“Turns out… their mom has cancer. She was bald in the photo and it’s clear she wears wigs in public.”
Rain deflated and ran her hands over her face in frustration before hissing out at the results of his words. “No woman starts something she won’t even live to see through, you imbecile. She doesn’t have cancer.”
August flinched. “How would you explain the picture, then, huh? A trick of the light?”
I interjected, finding this to be a complete waste of time. “It could be a cultural or religious thing. I’ve heard some people do that.”
I hadn’t, never have, but Rain had a point.
Wolf scrunched his brows. “Well, it can’t be cultural or religious if you’re ashamed of it, can it? The wigs?”
I made a sound of agreement, considering the possibility, but August spoke up, “My mother has cancer, and it just–… It just hit close to home, okay?”
I tilted my head and studied the dejected boy. If we gave everyone struggling in life a second chance, we would be deemed unworthy to sit on the board. The current members didn’t get to where they were by comparing and pitying everyone they went up against.
If the Kensington family’s mother has cancer, wouldn’t she focus on her own health rather than the structure of Castle Hill?
Of all things, she couldn’t possibly see it as a dying accomplishment. The board, with all its dark and twisted ways, understood that to thrive and continue existing without persecution, there had to exist a greater pool of wealth than their own.
To give hope to those down below and looking above, placate them from revolutionizing, and to have as many useful players in the field.
If a Parent Association-styled structure took over, each parent would look to push a narrative of their own, one that only benefited their legacy and no one else’s. Greed would overtake the vision the board has protected for centuries.
“Right, you two.” Rain pointed to the boys who raised this problem in the first place. “You’ve really picked the time, haven’t you? Fine, if you’re so adamant on this ethical dilemma, perhaps to prove to yourselves something that isn’t there, you can check for yourselves. Tomorrow. Ask Scott anything you’d like. God knows he’d be too off his rockets to even realize.”
Ajax sighed. “It’s not some ethical journey. It’s called being human.”
I raised a brow and twisted one side of my lips upward. “Ajax, out of all of us, you should be the last person saying that. You know you’ve taken the place of a dead boy, right? One that you killed. Ethical dilemmas should be child's play to you.”
I should have anticipated what would happen next, but if push came to shove, I didn’t mind playing dirty. For now, however, I’d let Ajax act out his performance.
I tried leaving the matter to rest, just as Wolf had asked, but with more tells Ajax was leaving behind like trails to follow, my confirmations became clearer. No matter how right I was in my assumption, I never planned to bring it up. Ajax had asked me not to meddle, and Malakai Young would serve me no purpose.
But if he wanted to play the moral game, he’d have to play with people that didn’t know the rules.
He stood up in an instant, charging at me.
As if in slow motion, I was distantly aware of Marigold’s squeal as she pushed herself so far back that she fell over the edge of the couch and around the back, out of sight. Wolf jumped up and rushed to hold each of us back, August quick to follow after him.
Rain didn’t seem phased by the violence; she only sat back on the couch and continued to massage her temples.
Ajax looked like a wild animal in that moment as he pushed me back against the shelves, the wooden edge biting into my back despite Wolf being there to soften the blow. “I did what had to be done. Don’t you dare pretend to know anything about it.”
Wolf’s head whipped towards him at the clear revelation, but he remained otherwise silent.
I leaned my head back and smiled only slightly. “I don’t pretend to know. But I for one also don’t pretend to give a damn about something that doesn’t concern me when I’m so clearly a selfish person–or rather, a self-preserving person. You can only ever care about yourself, Ajax. So, why are you suddenly going off script?”
His grip on the lapels of my uniform jacket tightened. “I–... did what I did with good reason. I’m not some senseless killer. It’sdifferent.”
I shook my head again, slowly this time, letting the silence that fell after his words fester between us. I could hear Wolf’s heavy breathing as he stood between the two of us, pressing a hand against Ajax’s chest. I let my eyes fall on the latter, knowing exactly what I looked like now, what my mother never let me forget. “It’s different because it benefited you when you did it. Now, you’re too shortsighted and unsure of how you might gain from it. Don’t give me the moral high card crap, Ajax. August.” I nodded towards the boy on the other side of us, mirroring Wolf’s stance. “He may have some emotional sentiment towards the woman. But tell me, August, would you risk your mother for it? Your entire family? Yourself?”
The boy in question’s arms loosened at my words, and his gaze shifted downcast, dejected, as he slowly, hesitantly, shook his head.
My eyes slid back to Ajax. “What about you? Would you risk your mother? Your own self?”
He let out a sharp, rough breath through his nose before his grip on my jacket tightened once and then loosened fully, his arms dropped to his sides. “I’ve always been all in.”
With that, he backed up and exited the room.
