The Arrangement Anthology (114 page)

All three of us are silent for a moment. That’s when Mel and Jon come out of the office. Jon is somber, but his expression changes when he sees us. “What the fuck is this?” Jon’s been so mad since Bryan died. His anger is always just below the surface, ready to erupt.

Trystan leans back into the couch without answering and Peter looks down at his saddle shoes, so Mel and Jon both turn their attention to me.
 

Mel is wearing sweats and gold hoop earrings. Her hair has expanded to twice its normal size. The look is very odd for a girl who is always perfectly dressed. She looks like a hot hobo. “Staring at the floor means they’re up to no good. A big chunk of stupid fell and hit them on the head, Jonny boy. There’s no way you can keep me from finding out what’s going on so you might as well spill.”

Jon is staring at me with an unreadable expression. I can’t tell if he’s mad or something worse. Finally, he sighs and runs his hands through his hair and down his neck. He glances at Peter. “It’s Sean, right?” Peter’s gaze flicks up, surprised. Jon rolls his eyes. “Pete, I notice things. Mom and Aunt Lizzie have been together way too much. Something’s up, and it’s major. Plus, Sean is ominously absent. It’s a very strange combo, especially since Sean likes to put his nose in everything. Bossing people around is his specialty and for some reason, he’s not here protecting Avery the way he should be, and since Bryan’s dead, well, we know he’s not there either.”

I can’t help it. I snap at him, “It wasn’t Sean’s fault.”

Jon looks down and I can see the wall go up as his eyes turn to steel. “Just answer my fucking question—what’s wrong?”

Peter sighs and looks over at me. I nod and clutch my middle tighter as Peter tells them our suspicion, and then the phone call. Jon retains his stern look and pointed focus. “Leave him.”

Peter, Trystan, Mel, and I all speak in unison. “What?”

Jon shrugs, like it’s not a big deal. “Sean got himself into this, he can get himself out.”

“Jon,” Peter speaks with that deep voice that almost sounds like a scold.

“Don’t talk to me like that Pete. Sean did this. It’s his mistake and there’s not a fucking chance in Hell that any of you should go pay for it. Masterson is a lunatic. He’ll kill both of you, Avery. If he’s responsible for all those murders—”

I cut him off, “Yeah,
if
. Jon, he can’t be, Marty’s not like that. He doesn’t fight and he hardly ever loses his temper. It’s weird.”

“How can you say that? You saw the gun in his hand!” Jon’s temper is rising and it feels like I’m poking a pissed off bear while covered in honey. It’s the dumbass thing to do, but something’s wrong and we have to find Sean.

“I saw it, I know, but I can’t believe it.” Jon starts to laugh at me, like I’m too naïve to breathe. Getting in his face, I sternly add, “I can’t believe it just like I don’t believe Sean killed Amanda. The same way I don’t believe for a second that Bryan was a scheming, malicious man. There’s something you don’t know, something that will make you hate me, but I have to tell you—you need to know.”

Peter’s eyes are wide. He holds up his hands and shakes his head. “Avery, don’t!”

“I have to. It’s my fault.” Glancing back at his brother, I confess, “Jon, I gave Bryan the gun. If you’re going to be pissed at someone for everything that happened, I did it, not Sean. Be mad at me.” Regret nearly tears my chest in half. I can’t stand the way they’re all looking at me. I didn’t know that Bryan would do what he did. Being the man he was, Bryan would have done it anyway, gun or not. He loved Hallie too much to leave her to Victor.
 

Jon’s eyes glow like twin flames, bright blue and deadly. “You gave it to him? You mean, all the shit that’s been following Sean around was laid on my cousin because you gave him the fucking gun!” Jon is screaming, his face red with rage.

Peter jumps between us because Jon is way too close. Trystan is up and tugging Jon back, but this needs to happen. Jon wants to blame someone for his best friend’s death and he needs to blame me. Gently, I put my hand on Peter's shoulder and step around him.
 

“Avery.” There’s a warning tone in Pete’s voice.

Trystan gives a gentle shake of his head, indicating that I shouldn’t say anything else, but I have to. I never told any of them and guilt is tearing me apart. Besides, directing his anger at Sean is wrong when I’m the one to blame.
 

My voice is soft. I won’t fight with him. “I can’t let you think that Sean caused this, because he didn’t. If Bryan didn’t have the gun, none of the stuff with Victor would have happened. I spun things into motion. Jon, I’m sorry. Please believe me when I say that Sean didn’t know. He truly didn’t.”

Jon watches me closely, trying to decide if I’m lying. Hallie calls out behind him, she must have been in the office too. “Jon, how do you want this to end?” He turns on his heel and looks back at her. Hallie looks weary but fierce, standing there in jeans and a ratty t-shirt, her thick hair pulled back into a ponytail. “You lost Bryan, but you don’t have to lose Sean too.”

“You really think Masterson has him? If he does, will he kill Sean? Is this even about Sean?” Jon asks, glaring at me with his icy eyes flicking up to meet mine. The room is eerily quiet. They want to know what would turn a lovable guy into a homicidal maniac, but the truth is as unfathomable to me as it is to them.

“I don’t know. Marty’s lied to me before—like huge-ass lies—and I forgave him. Maybe he thinks I’ll forgive this. I don’t know, no one knows what happened that night. They think Marty took the shot, because he had a gun—and then he ran. Running doesn’t mean he did it.” I glance at Mel, who’s been way too quiet. Normally, she would have interrupted and given her opinion by now. “What do you think?”

“I think Marty’s been playing you, Avery. And I seriously doubt that he has Sean. Think about it, even injured, I can’t see Sean Ferro getting kidnapped by Marty. It’s too much of a stretch. A fucking pacifist caught shooting a Ferro at a megastar concert?” She shakes her head, making her huge-ass earrings swing. “Fishy, sister, and not the kind of fishy funk that goes away with some Monistat.”

We all make a face, but Peter’s the one who talks. “Lovely comparison.”
 

She smirks. “It ain’t white boy poetry, but I could write books—novels about the shit I seen—so don’t judge me. I talk the way I talk because this is the real me. I never forgot where I resided prior to my education, and it’s ingrained so deeply in my bones that they’re etched with that past life. What you are witnessing now is a manifestation of the past and the present colliding.” The boys’ expressions are incredulous, as if they can’t believe Mel knew words with more than two syllables. She folds her arms over her chest, snaps gum I didn’t realize she was chewing and throws her hip out. “Like I was saying, you can’t change who you are. We either pegged that son of a bitch wrong, or someone’s playin’ us. I, for one, don’t give a shit about Sean, but I know Avery does, so I’m here. Whatever you need, we’ll find him.” She smiles softly at me and places her hand on my shoulder.

No one says anything for a moment. Mel’s message is clear—Marty Masterson could be putting on an act that never ends. I know Mel could play corporate colored woman if she wanted to and deal with the daily drivel that goes with it. She has the intelligence; she simply chooses not to show it. So, here she is with us, in a strip club on Long Island, instead of in a power suit, kicking corporate ass in the city.
 

“So, we pretend Marty is innocent until we know he’s not?” I ask Mel, to make sure I caught her meaning.

“Rule number one: Don’t make enemies.” She ticks off a finger then holds up another, “Rule number two: When you do, take them down first. And Avery, it’s a matter of when, not if, because it’s easy for people to hate. Even if there’s no reason, some fuckers are hell-bent on finding one. Marty ain’t what he seems, and never was. He played us once, so why not twice? We should have cut him off already. I didn’t because you didn’t. I don’t give people second chances. Forgiving only gets you hurt—or dead.” The way she says it is so calloused, so unfeeling. We’re talking about someone who shared drinks and slept over. Marty kept me safe when no one else was around. I slept in his arms and he chased away my demons.
 

Shaking my head, I wrap my arms around my middle and say to the floor, “It’s so hard to believe.”

Jon’s calmed down enough to speak, but he doesn’t look at me. “There’s a manhunt for Masterson and he’s not been caught yet. That says the fucker is smarter than anyone thought. The problem we have right now is Sean. Stay focused.”
 

Trystan nods. “Something big is going on. I’m wondering if I’m part of it, and how far this whole thing has spread. I get why Sean asked me to watch you the other night. At the time it seemed like an ass move, but he went to help Hallie and Bryan. Something went wrong. Bryan took the shot and cleared him. Now Sean is missing. Any chance all this shit is connected? I feel like we’re missing something.”

My ringtone fills the air before anyone can answer. It’s coming from Trystan’s pocket. He pulls it out and the expression on his face scares me. “I think we’re about to find out. It’s Sean.”

As he speaks the phone flies through the air in a high arc. I catch it and stare at Sean’s picture on the screen. Nerves twist me up so quickly that my palms are already sweaty and my stomach twists like I’m in a freefall. The phone rings again. All eyes are on me waiting.

Chapter 13

I try to hide the fear that’s choking me. There’s no way he’s fine—I know it before I answer. This call is an omen, and there’s no escaping what’s to come. Trembling, I swipe the screen and then press the phone to my ear. “Where have you been? Sean, I’ve worried myself sick.” I can’t hide the quiver in my voice. I wait for him to reply and only hope that someone hasn’t hurt him. Whoever took down Sean must be more powerful, more skillful at deception and a better fighter. I can’t imagine who it could be. Black is the only person who comes to mind. I half expect him to say that she’s behind everything, so when the voice hits my ear, I’m paralyzed.
 

Marty’s voice is strong and clear. “Awh, how sweet. You do care, and here I thought it would never happen. Silly me.”

The room is quiet, all eyes on me. Fear races through my veins, and rushes into my heart. “Why do you have Sean’s phone? Marty, I swear to God, if you hurt him—”

“What, you’ll girly-punch me?” He laughs lightly, like we’re still friends before continuing. “Avery, babe, I’m up for any kink you want to play out, but I need to finish what we started. The thing is I’ve decided to live a little, you know. If I’m going to chance getting caught, I should have the woman I want in the mix. So, sweet face, grab some food for us, and a few bandages for your boyfriend here. He wasn’t being nice, so I may have opened some of his stitches—but only a little. The thing is, he’s staining the carpet. Some people are so inconsiderate. Anyway, bring one bag of eats and your pretty little ass—and only your pretty little ass—to the old parking area for the Oak Beach Inn. You have an hour. Don’t disappoint me.” The line goes dead and I stare at the phone in my hand.

Everyone is waiting for me to repeat what I heard. Numbness consumes me as betrayal cracks my heart. He did it. He took the shots—it has been him all along and I’ve been defending him.
 

“Well?” Mel impatiently prods.

“Marty has Sean.”

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COMING SOON

BROKEN PROMISES

A Trystan Scott Novel

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~DAMAGED~

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COLLIDE
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