Authors: Owen Matthews
The Fixes (28 page)
“This is not a catastrophe,” Jordan says.
They're all in the Tesla now, a couple miles from the St. Regis, cruising west on Marine Drive toward Jordan's mansion. The roads are mostly deserted. No police cars. No sirens. Nobody knows what they've done.
(Yet.)
None of the others reply. Paige is having a freak-out in the backseat of the Tesla. She keeps mumbling things that none of the others can understand. Haley keeps trying to get her to calm down. It's not working.
“Paige, listen to me,” Jordan says. “All of you. Listen up.”
There's something in his voice E's never heard before. Something hard and maybe mean.
“Nobody was supposed to get hurt,” Paige says. “That wasn't the fucking
Fix
, Jordan.
Nobody was supposed to get hurt
.”
“It was an accident,” Jordan says. “I didn't mean it. But he was a piece of shit, Paige. I would do it again if I had to.”
Paige looks like she's ready to cry.
“I'm not saying this is an ideal scenario,” Jordan says. “But it isn't the end of the world. Everything's going to be fine.”
E looks at Jordan, and he can't tell if Jordan's lying, or if he really believes it. E's pretty sure
he
doesn't believe it. E's thinking they're screwed.
“That piece of shit,” Haley says. “Why couldn't he just
drink his fucking roofie?”
“It's over,” Jordan says. “What's done is done. That guy was a creep, and he had it coming. It sucks that we killed him, but we didn't get caught.”
“Dude,” E says. “It's great that we didn't get caught and all, but we just
killed
a guy.”
Jordan exhales. “I know you're scared, E. But if you don't want to spend the rest of your life in jail, you're going to need to man the fuck up a little bit. Like, now.”
E doesn't say anything. He doesn't exactly like Jordan's tone. It's like E's part of the problem. That's not what E wants.
Jordan keeps driving. They're almost at his house.
“Nobody panic,” Jordan says. “We're going to be fine.”
E and the others bag up their black clothes and hide them in Jordan's pool house. They change into sweats and hoodies and go back into the mansion and bring pillows and blankets down to the theater room and turn on the TV. There's nothing on the news yet. It's too early in the morning. Nobody's broadcasting.
There are a couple of lines on the internet, though. Twitter is picking up the story. It's all rumors and conjecture at this point. There's nothing about the Suicide Pack.
They divide up the blankets and the pillows and the couches. Jordan mutes the TV and turns the lights low. E lies there in the darkness and the quiet, trying to fall asleep, trying to erase the dead movie star from his brain.
Eventually, he drifts off. But
isn't going anywhere. He haunts E's dreams until morning.
E wakes up. The TV is off, and Paige and Haley are still asleep. Jordan's gone. E sits up and wraps himself in the blanket.
He wanders out into the mansion and finds the nearest bathroom. As he comes out afterward, he hears a door close. He follows the noise.
Jordan's in the kitchen. He has croissants from Artigiano and four coffees. He looks pretty well rested. He doesn't look like he stayed up all night worrying about.
(E has a series of thoughts as he walks into the kitchen.
The thoughts are as follows:
Jordan bought coffee from Artigiano.
Artigiano is not at all close to Jordan's mansion.
(It's all the way over by Capilano Marina.)
(There are multiple coffee shops closer.)
So why Artigiano?)
Jordan looks up when E walks in. “Morning, sunshine.” He slides E a coffee and the bag of croissants. And an iPad with a video loaded on the screen. “Check this out.”
He shows E the iPad. Presses play.
And E watches in absolute horror.
What E sees:
A slow pan across's penthouse suite.
The city skyline out the windows. Drinks on the coffee table.
Pan across to's body, lifeless on the floor.
(Cut to black.)
Then the Suicide Pack logo.
Then the punch line.
ROMEO MUST DIE.
(Cue Robo-Haley's maniacal laugh.)
“What in the actual fuck, dude?”
E stares at Jordan.
“What did you do?”
Jordan smiles like the sphinx. “It's our latest Vine, E. It's going to break the internet, right?”
“No.” E grabs the iPad. Fumbles with the touch screen. “You have to delete it. You can't post that shit.”
“Too late,” Jordan says. “It's already posted.” He gestures to the bag of croissants. “Try a croissant, E. They're delicious.”
But E isn't thinking about eating.
E's thinking about the freaking electric chair.
“What the fuck are you thinking?”
he's saying.
“Will you quit with all the drama? We're going to be fine. We were careful last night. The plan was a good one. The only witness is dead. Nobody even knows we were at the St. Regis. You kept your head down so the cameras wouldn't see your face, right?”
“Yeah, okay, but what about the other Fixes?” E asks. “Paige had connections to the movie star. Haley's freaking
mom
owned the Côte d'Azur. And what about Mike? He knows we bought explosives. He already suspects we set that bomb.”
“Don't worry about Mike,” Jordan says. “Mike's a nonfactor.”
“How do you know that?” E's running his hands through his hair. E's feeling like he might, you know,
faint
.
Jordan sips his coffee. Bites into a croissant. Takes the iPad back and fiddles with it. “Take a look, E,” he says, handing the iPad back. “They
love
us.”
E looks at the screen.
He's in the Capilano High message group.
(And it looks like a freaking piranha feeding frenzy.)
OMG.
OMFG.
Is this fucking real?
How the fuck did they get this footage?
Can anyone trace this?
Hoax? Y/N
Why the f would they post this?
Why the f would they kill him?
Meh.
I never liked his movies anyway.
[Etc.]
[Etc.]
[Etc.]
“We just have to act normal,” Jordan says. “Nobody knows it's us. You guys need to relax, okay?”
They're back in the theater room. E's feeling like his brain is oozing out his ears, and Haley and Paige look about the same. Paige's makeup is smudged; she's been crying. Haley can't take her eyes from Jordan's iPad. She keeps shaking her head and muttering something E can't hear, but it's probably profane.
Jordan holds out a coffee and the bag of croissants. “Eat up, you guys,” he says. “Everything looks better on a full stomach. I promise.”
Haley looks at him like he's insane. “I don't have an appetite.”
“Have some coffee at least. Perk up a bit.”
“I don't want
coffee
, Jordan.” Haley's voice is menace. “What I
need
is to understand what you were thinking, posting this Vine.”
Paige curls up, hugs her knees to her chest. “We have to tell the police,” she says. “They're going to find us anyway. We have to get ahead of this and just hope they'll be lenient.”
E feels a brick in the pit of his stomach. Sees law school disappearing before his eyes. Sees a long life in prison instead.
He looks over at Haley and sees the same fear in her eyes. But Jordan sits down on the couch beside Paige. “Look at me,” he says.
Paige doesn't answer. She doesn't look at Jordan. She hugs a pillow to her chest and stares across at the wall.
“We're not going to the police,” Jordan says. “We're not confessing shit, either. We're the
Suicide Pack
. We don't let anyone in this town mess with us.”
“We fucking
killed
a guy, Jordan,” Paige says. “And it's still just a freaking
game
to you?”
Jordan looks at her, hard. “It isn't a game. It was never a game. It sucks thathad to die, but he was a total fucking sleazeball. This is just the universe paying him back.”
“I still don't get why you had to post that freaking Vine, though,” Haley says.
“Nobody's going to trace it to us. No one ever has to know. As long as we act normal, we're totally fine. And if not?”
He grins.
“I have a six-point-eight-million-dollar trust fund,” he says. “If that won't keep the heat off us, it will at least get us somewhere far away, fast. Okay?”
He looks around the room. Nobody answers.
“Okay?”
Weak nods. Feeble shrugs.
Jordan shakes his head. Sets down the bag of croissants. “You guys should really drink that coffee,” he says. “It's like a
morgue
in here.”
