Page 72 of Vile Bastards
“Yeah, well it was right here this morning.” She points at the coffee table. “Then you left for school, and it suddenly disappeared.”
I just stare at her, feeling my temper roil, but fighting it down as best as I can. This must be what Widow feels like when Bohnes lays into him. I really owe the guy a proper thank you for swallowing his temper down.
“I’m sure you just misplaced it.” The words are cool, but firm. This is the tone I use when I need to talk one of my girls down from the edge. “If you want, I can help you look for it.”
“Stop talking down to me,” she snaps, ruffling up her hair with both hands. I see that she’s wearing one of my shirts, but I don’t mention it. She was in my room, rifling through my things. I don’t like the idea of that, but it wouldn’t be the first time something like this happened. “You don’t get a free pass to be a bitch just because you died.”
“Scarlett,” Widow breathes, and I can hear the frustration in his voice. I hold up a hand and move into the living room to stand beside my sister. Something is definitely up with her. Not only does she keep mentioning things that I’m certain I never told her, but her strange insistence on attending the Halloween party, her obsession with Alexei. It’s weird, even for her.
“What is your problem?” I ask her, as nicely as I’m able to. Alexis meets my gaze with a defiant one of her own. “Shouldn’t you be nicer to me after almost losing your last remaining sibling? You’ve gotten worse, Alexis.”
“Where is my wallet?” she demands, clenching her hands into fists. “I know that you have it; you’re a thief.”
“I might be a thief, but I don’t steal from my own family members.” I take my sunglasses off my head and point at her with one of the arms. “Why don’t you go take a walk?”
“You stole my wallet, and Mom stole my twenty-one money,” she screams, just before Geneva appears on the stairs. Just for the record: only one of those things is true.
My mother’s eyes drift over to Widow and stick there for a minute before she drags them back to Alexis. She’s only seen Widow in passing on the day I came home from the hospital. Even tried to give me a silly, little don’t trust boys like that, Scarlett speech which is hilarious. Her last husband was an ex-felon with a meth problem who sat and tweaked on MMORPGs. Getting him off the Internet was like prying a muscle off a rock.
Geneva comes down the stairs and offers Widow up a semi-apologetic look.
“She’s suffering from mental health issues,” she explains, and that just tips Alexis right over the edge.
“Don’t say things like that to strangers! I don’t have mental health problems; I’m just sick and fucking tired of living in a family full of liars.” She kicks over the coffee table as I cock a hip out, crossing one arm over my belly so that I can hold the elbow of my opposite arm in my hand. I leave the sunglasses dangling from my fingers which only seems to infuriate Alexis more. “Give me my wallet, Scarlett. Now.” She gets right up in my face which triggers every instinct in me to fight.
Widow adjusts himself but doesn’t move away from the door.
I figured he’d already announced himself as my boyfriend to Gram, so why not bring him over after school? We were just going to hang out. Or fuck. We might still fuck, despite Alexis’ fit.
“I will help you look for your wallet,” I repeat, but then she knocks the sunglasses out of my hand, and I’m biting my tongue to ground myself in the moment so that I don’t react. Lemon, Lemon, Lemon. I regretted all the things I said and did to Lemon in the end; I don’t want to make that same mistake again. I don’t …
The panic attack sets in then, and I find that I suddenly can’t breathe.
That’s when it hits me.
I’m not struggling because I have a sudden fear of icy rivers, I’m struggling because I let Aspen Kelly shoot Evelyn Moreno, because my best friend died with blood bubbling from her lips, because there’s this sense that I’ve lost all control over everything.
Even my own life.
“Scarlett?” Geneva asks, her voice laced with panic. Nobody in my family has seen these attacks just yet. Me, bent over, gasping for breath, choking and hyperventilating. “Oh my God, Scarlett.”
Alexis just stands there, staring at me. And then she turns and heads up the stairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.
“I’m fine,” I gasp, my head spinning, my heart breaking. I’ve been putting on a brave face, but only because I’ve buried so many of my emotions. “I’m completely fine.”
