“You haven’t mentioned this to me? How come this is the first time I’m hearing about any of this?”
Jonah, the total fucking sociopath, mirrors Dad’s horrified expression. “Hell no. It’s way too dangerous for you to be traipsing through Europe on your own.” He says this matter-of-factly, like he has any authority over me.
“Like I said. I’m going with my friends. I won’t be on my own. There’ll be three of us.”
“Who?” Dad demands.
“Carina and Elodie.”
“Elodie? I don’t know any Elodie?”
“She just started at the academy in January. She’s really nice. She—”
“Three clueless girls, backpacking through Europe? Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie,” Jonah says. “One of them’s bound to end up in a bath full of ice, missing a kidney. Or straight up murdered. You’re too young.”
“You literally just said that I was an adult three seconds ago!”
Dad shivers at the mental picture Jonah just painted, though. “Your brother’s right, sweetheart. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to do some serious thinking about this before I agree to anything.”
“I wasn’t aware that I had to get your permission.”
He looks at me over the top of his wine glass, freezing in place. “Sorry?”
“I’ll be eighteen by then. A legal adult. I’ll be free to make my own decisions.” I word it carefully, in a light, airy tone. Last thing I want to do is fight with Dad in front of Jonah, and I don’t want to offend him, either. I love the clueless idiot more than anything, but I shouldn’t have to say this to him. Jonah went off and traveled through Thailand and Australia by himself after he graduated high school. Why shouldn’t I be afforded the same opportunity?
Dad slowly sets the wine glass down without even sipping from it. “Uhh. Presley, sweetheart. I understand what it’s like at your age. To feel like you’re completely grown up. And I know that the prospect of making decisions like that for yourself must be really exciting. But it’s…I hate to say it…” He cringes. “But it’s different for boys. And Jonah does raise a good point. You’ll only be eighteen. And while that affords you some legal rights, it doesn’t mean you can just go galivanting off and do whatever you like, whenever you like.”
“I thought that was exactly what it meant.”
“Dude. Dad’s just looking out for you. You’re not street smart at all. And he can’t just jump on a plane to come grab you when you get yourself in trouble now, can he? The restaurant will be open by then.”
“That’s another good point. I’m gonna need you here. I was counting on your help to get the business off the ground. That way I won’t have to hire a fulltime hostess until you go off to colle—”
A cold, sinking feeling settles in my stomach, tugging at my insides like a lead weight. “Wait. A minute ago, you were fine with me disappearing off to Mexico with him. Now I’m going to be chained to a hostess’s desk for months?”
“That’s not the same thing, Pres,” Dad argues. “Ten days in San Diego is very different to weeks and weeks bouncing around Europe. I won’t know where you are. I won’t know if you’re safe—”
“Like you’d know where I was or if I was safe if I was with Jonah!”
“Of course I would!” Dad’s face is almost the same color as his Malbec. “He’s your brother. He’ll look after you. Of course you’d be safe with Jonah!”
On the other side of the table, my half-brother smirks, knowing all-too-well that our father can’t see the nasty little twist to his mouth. He’s loving this. He nearly ruined my life three years ago. Now, he’s coming perilously close to ruining my graduation trip and I will not let it happen.
My chair’s legs scrape on the hardwood as I push back from the table. “I’m sorry. I’ve lost my appetite. Can I be excused?”
Dad reaches out and places his hand on top of mine. “Stay, sweetheart. I think it’s best we talk and put this Europe idea to bed now, before you get your hopes up about anything.”
“We can talk about it tomorrow. And…no. We’re not putting it to bed. I am going on this trip. My friends are going off to different colleges. Different countries even. I won’t see them again for god knows how long. I’m not missing out on the chance to spend some real time with the—” Wow, I can hardly breathe. I pause, taking a second to calm myself. It doesn’t work, though; my pulse is racing. I feel weirdly lightheaded. “I’m sorry. I really…I actually don’t feel well. Excuse me.”
“Storming off only proves how immature you are,” Jonah calls after me.
I’ve bolted from the kitchen, though. I’m halfway up to the second floor. As I take the stairs two at a time, my father’s words ring in my ears.
Of course you’d be safe with Jonah.
But Dad doesn’t have a fucking clue what he’s talking about.
I’ve never been safe with my older brother.
If only he knew the truth.
Hours later, Jonah proves how little he’s changed. I wake up in the brand-new bed Dad bought me, sweating.
He hasn’t made a sound, but I know he’s there.
In the shadows.
Waiting.
7
PAX
* * *
It’s dark.
My pulse is racing so hard, I think I’m about to have a fucking heart attack. I jolt upright, clawing at my shirt, only to find it soaking wet, plastered to my skin. It takes ten solid deep breaths before my pulse slows and reaches an even rhythm. I peel the wet shirt from my body and hurl it into the darkness, then bring my knees up so I can rest my elbows on my thighs, holding my head in my hands.
What the hell was that about?
On the nightstand, my cellphone is lit up, casting brilliant white light up the wall behind me. I normally turn it off when I go to sleep but I must have forgotten before I fell asleep; a string of text message notifications monopolize the screen, and every single one of them is from M.
M for Meredith.
M for Mom.
I groan, snatching the device angrily from the nightstand, unlocking it.
* * *
Message received 02.23
M: You were at the penthouse. You didn’t come and see me.
* * *
M: I don’t know why you need to be this difficult, Pax. You know I’m sick. You should have at least visited before blowing through town.
* * *
M: So once again, you’re forcing my hand. I’ve transferred myself to the rinky dinky facility in ML. Now you don’t have a choice.
* * *
What? What the actual fuck is she talking about? Transferred to ML? Mountain Lakes? She’s fucking here?
I tap out a reply.
* * *
Me: Stay in New York.