Vex (14 page)

“Not a Kragger in sight. I’m almost insulted,” Holden says, looking indifferent to the festivities unfolding before him. He smirks into me as we enter the grand room in the back of the restaurant. “I’d give Pierce a call, but then he wouldn’t be welcome, would he?” he whispers, rife with sarcasm.

“Technically neither are you.” I should have him
and
his brother incarcerated for the psychological and physical trauma they’ve caused me. I’m sure Tad would hate me forever if I was responsible for putting Ethan behind bars, but I have a feeling that’s the direction our relationship is going anyway.

I can’t help but notice the subtle changes Holden has already made to poor Ethan’s body, the new cropped haircut much like Holden past, the botched beauty school dropout highlights, which make it look like a bird conducted its business on multiple occasions, not to mention the fact he’s been lifting weights and downing muscle milk more than he eats real food. It’s like he’s getting ready for a prison riot or mass annihilation of those he lives with. God—I never even thought that Holden might slaughter us all in our sleep.

“I’m still so glad you’re back! We should celebrate like every week.” Melissa hops up and down. The curls in her hair defy gravity as she continues to ply him with her affections. Between her and Mia’s hairspray addiction, there’s a generous layer of ozone evaporating daily right here above Paragon.

“Off,” he shoves her away.

Melissa stalls a moment. Her large doe eyes vacillate with emotion as she struggles not to cry before bounding over to Mia. Holden is getting away with everything just because he’s sporting Landon DNA. 

Marshall steps forward and pulls out a chair for me.

I’ve got a beef with the pretty Oliver. Were I human, he would have disfigured my oral cavity. Dental work would have been in my future
. Marshall gives a sharp look.

“You know what they say, a tooth for a tooth,” I glance over at Logan.

I take a seat and both Gage and Marshall swoop in on either side of me. I can tell this peeves Gage to the point of insanity, but I’d much rather have Marshall beside me than Logan.

You know how I feel about people disrupting my property
, he glances down at my arm.

Ironic because the only reason Logan bashed Marshall’s face in, was to protect
his
so-called property—me.

Chloe sits on the other side of Gage and takes up his hand. Mom’s jaw drops, baffled by this bizarre display of events.

“I do know how you feel about that, Mr. Dudley,” I add his proper moniker in the event anyone is listening. “He’s mistreated you that way before, and I don’t recall a drastic punishment.” Mistreated—more like beat the shit out of him. The only punishment Marshall doled out was to put him on a ceiling time out for twenty minutes.

I fought back—it was a just effort on both our parts. I’m afraid he’s disregarded my warning to refrain from violence where I’m concerned. It appears I have recompense to initiate.
He picks up the wine list from the center of the table and peruses the selections.

God. Marshall is going to make Logan pay. I look over at him frowning at something Lexy is filling his head with. He’ll be lucky if he
has
a head when Marshall is through with him.

The waitress passes out menus.

I’ve never been to this Italian restaurant before with its wine cellar located precariously over our heads. Of course, it’s discretely interwoven with vines and illuminated grapes interspersed like an expanse of purple stars, but one little earthquake, and the possibility of one of us leaving with a concussion is almost guaranteed. 

Holden knocks his menu onto the table a few good times to get everyone’s attention. “I’m going to make this easy,” his eyes dart up to the waitress, “we’ll take one sampler platter for each of us.”

“I don’t want that,” Melissa cuts in.

“My damn party,” he quips, closing his menu with finality.
Tad scans down the menu and coughs a moment at the price.

“Good call, Son,” he tries to save face. “We can split, three, four, between the lot of us.”

“Do the math, genius, there’s eighteen people at the friggin table.” Holden hands the menu to the waitress. “
Eighteen
sampler platters.”

Shit.

Holden is, well, being Holden, and if Tad doesn’t die eating a giant plate of deep-fried everything, the grand total of tonight’s bill will annihilate him, for sure.

Tad gasps for breath. “That’s forty—”

Mom jabs him in the ribcage before he can balk about the forty dollar a platter price tag. Forget the fact that the Landon family can’t afford college or diapers for the critter they’re cooking up in a Petri dish—they can’t afford to eat this or any other meal for the next solid month.

“We’re more than happy to give you whatever you wish on your special day.” Mom forces a smile.

Holden motions for the waitress once again, whispers to her while pointing at the wine list. Funny, since half the table is well below the legal limit, including himself.

Fascinating display of wealth and power
. Marshall looks unimpressed with Holden’s tactics.
Has regret set in over your nonsensical quest to find that disaster a new home?

“Of course.” Speaking of regret, and heartbreak, and disaster—I reach under the table and clasp Marshall’s hand, spilling all I know about Nevermore and Ezrina.

It was do justice
, he winks at me.
Don’t you agree?

No, I don’t. I think love should win every single time
, I say.

Love like Chloe and Gage
?

“Hell no,” I say a little too loud.

“Skyla!” Mom’s eyes bug out while Mia and Melissa ogle me like I’ve gone insane.

“It’s a new cheer,” I offer, smirking over at Chloe.

Chloe’s eyes shine in my direction. She just loves this make-believe bubble she’s squeezed the rest of us into.

I squeeze Marshall’s hand.
I want Chloe dead
.

Not a chance with that protective hedge welded around her neck. You’ve chosen your bed, and perhaps the future bed of your almost lover
.

I blush.
OK, I want Chloe’s affections redirected—preferably in your direction
.

Not my type.

“Not your type?” I say out loud. Tad eyes me with suspicion. He probably thinks I’ve ingested a hallucinogenic from my imaginary stash.
Every woman on the planet is your type.

Come now, even I have boundaries. Certain girls suppress my appetite—one of which you are not.
He gives an open wink.

“Marshall,” Demetri takes a moment from attempting to bewitch my mother, “tell me about this horse ranch of yours.” He gleams in all his dark splendor. Come to think of it, Demetri and Chloe would make a great couple—a couple of heartless assholes.

“Equestrian arena,” Marshall breathes the words out, bored by the effort. “I house show horses, offer lessons on the side. If you’re interested in riding, I’ve got the perfect horse for you.”
She’s yet to be broken, holds the promise of paralysis
.

Marshall’s a genius. 

“And you teach?” Demetri fans his fingers in a downward direction.

“I do a multitude of tasks. Are you in town as a guest, or have you chosen to extend your stay?” Marshall pins him with a harsh stare. If it wasn’t apparent that the two are on the outer fringes of an honest friendship, it is now. The room hushes to a whisper as though we were witnessing a show down at high noon. I hope there’s a spirit sword involved, and death.

“The women of Paragon beguile me.” Demerti’s dark eyes sparkle in this dim light. There’s a perennial smile that plays on the outskirts of his lips. His entire demeanor drinks down this clash with Marshall.

“Lovely as they may be, you have a home elsewhere,” Marshall snaps. “Might I suggest you tend to it?” It comes out a command rather than a question.

There’s a pregnant pause. The whispers around the table fade to nothing.

“I don’t allow others to dictate my actions,” Demetri doesn’t break his hard stare in Marshall’s direction. “I did it once to my misfortune. I don’t take orders anymore.”

Orders, like from Chloe, orders? Does he regret listening to her and setting the wheels in motion to kill my father?

No, Skyla
, Marshall rubs his hand over mine discretely.

Just like with Logan, I can never remember he’s listening.

Demetri most certainly does not regret his actions towards your father. If you must know the truth, he is directly responsible for the tragedy. No middleman,just one hundred percent Demetri-fueled hatred. Chloe was the gasoline—he was the match. That man, my love, is himself the proprietor of you father’s death in every way.

A guttural groan emits from somewhere deep inside my chest. The room spins slightly, the world downshifts into slow motion as I look up towards Demetri.

“No,” I whisper as though I were hearing the news for the very first time, as though my father dying were a current event and I had somehow witnessed the atrocity firsthand. I pick up a knife and dart it across the table like a javelin. It glides off his coat and lands precariously in my mother’s lap.

“Yes!” Holden gloms onto the concept and lobs the free dinner rolls in a dozen directions at once.

The bitch squad indulges in the debauchery and outright melee ensues for several minutes with flying forks and spoons, an errant knife in my direction by Chloe, until Tad stands and gives an obnoxious whistle, fans his arms out in front of him like a referee.

It’s in that moment—the nexus of the storm, that I turn to Gage and indulge in one long mouthwatering kiss. I don’t spare a soul from my public display of lingual affection. It’s not only my F-U to Chloe, it’s the only thing in the world that will quell my appetite for destruction, for murder, and take me away to a well needed reprieve, if only for a moment.

It’s Gage who repels, gasps before cutting a worried look at me as though I had butchered someone for sport at the table.

Dinner arrives.

Tad leads us into the blessing which is full of admonishments, suggestion for Holden’s behavior and, for the love of God, for men to stop hitting on his wife.

There’s that.

The noise level drops once again, the sound of voices are replaced with the clang of dishes, knives and forks scrapping against our plates in haste.

An army of waitresses bring out fourteen bottles of their finest champagne, and Tad’s face bleaches out as they’re set on the table.

He doesn’t say a word, but you can see that he wants to. He strangles Holden with his eyes just enough to assure him he’s crossed the line.

“Nothing but the best for me, right Pops?” Holden expands his hands over the feast as though he were claiming dominion.

“Nothing but the best,” Tad grits it through his teeth.

Demetri stares over at me—callous and cold—holds the butter knife I speared him with and twirls it with his fingers like a baton.

“Excuse me,” I say, before heading to the restroom.

 I follow a trail of dark halls and endless corridors, over towards a little blue sign.

“Skyla, wait.” It’s Logan the stalker.     

I flatten my hand onto the ladies’ room door.

“I believe you,” he depresses out a thin smile.

“You do?” I’m shocked that he believes me over Gage. He’s probably trying to get on my good side, or in my pants, now that he thinks I put out. “So, I guess he fessed up and told you the truth.”

“Nope. Hasn’t come up.” He drinks me in as though I were capable of satiating him with my presence alone.

“Then why believe me?” I step aside so a group of girls can move through.

“Because,” he comes in close until I can feel the heat emanating off his body, “I could tell by the look on your face you were telling the truth.” He gives a slow blink. “Besides, it’s none of my business.” A blue light from above gives him the perfect Count aura. “I just thought it was important for you to know.”

“Well, thank you.” I’m stunned by this awkward exchange and slightly vindicated although he still deserves a slap for inciting such a stupid conversation with Gage to begin with.

“So,” his forehead wrinkles with curiosity, “why do you think Gage, of all people, would lie to me about something like that?” 

“Lying runs in the family.” I let the words dance on my tongue on their way out.  

“Not true.”

“Then maybe it was the fact you told him I would jump you anywhere, anyplace, even the back seat of a car,” I spit those last few words out like darts.

His chin inches back as he considers this.

“Sorry. He drives me insane with his incessant ranting about how perfect the two of you are, how perfect life would be without Chloe. I’m sure he means without me, too. Although, he’s already taken me out of the picture quite nicely.”

It never occurred to me that Logan might feel stabbed in the back by Gage.

He turns to leave then spins back around. “Oh, and Skyla? My uncle says the justice alliance wants to question me.”

I take in a lungful of air and forget to let go.

Great God.

They’re going to punish us.

Logan is going to be a bird and I’m going to be Ezrina.

Chapter Twenty-Three

It’s On

“So, you’re not really having a baby?” Mia seems distrustful of the results from Mom’s fertility space lab.

“Nope.” I continue to stuff a small suitcase Mom gave me for ski week. I still need to go to the mall tomorrow and pick up a snowsuit with Mom. She refuses to let me make such a large purchase on my own.

“So, are you still with Gage?”

“Yup,” I say, filling a separate bag with hair products.

“So, why was he holding that one girl’s hand during dinner?” She seems genuinely perplexed.

“Because he’s friendly. Didn’t you see me kiss him? We’re still together.” Freaking Chloe always screwing with everybody’s head.

“Yeah,” she eyes me suspiciously, “but I also noticed that his brother got up and went to the bathroom at the same time you did.”