First and Forever (Heartache Duet #2) - Jay McLean Page 0,99
me. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.
I sit down next to Karen, throw my arm around her shoulders. “I’m a sucky friend,” I admit, kissing the top of her head. “We both are.”
Karen nods. “I hate you both and hope you catch chlamydia.”
Rhys laughs once. “We’d deserve it.”
“No shit,” she retorts.
Dad sighs. “I’m so confused.”
Michael rubs his hands together. “Can I fix you guys something to eat or drink?”
Rhys shrugs, then starts replacing the coffee table to its original position. “I could eat.”
Karen scoffs. “When are you not eating?”
Rhys settles on the other couch while Dad and Michael move to the kitchen. “Is that a friend of your dad’s?” he asks, his voice low.
I shake my head. “That’s Michael, Dad’s boyfriend.”
Rhys’s jaw hits the floor. Next to me, Karen gasps. “Your dad’s gay?” she whisper-yells. “How did I not know this?”
“I only just found out, but don’t make a thing of it okay?”
“He’s kind of cute,” Karen whispers.
Rhys asks, “Who? Mr. Ledger?”
“Well, yeah, him too.”
“Don’t make this more awkward,” I mumble.
Dad and Michael return with a tray of drinks and some chips. Michael hands a glass to Rhys, and Rhys says with a toothy grin, “Thanks, Mrs. Mr. Ledger.”
I sigh.
Karen says, “I swear to God, Rhys, the shit that comes out of your mouth…”
Rhys chuckles. “No girl’s ever complained about my mouth before.”
“Why do you—”
A knock on the door interrupts Karen’s speech.
Dad shakes his head. “If this is another one of your friends here to throw punches, I’m pulling you out of school and wrapping you in bubble wrap.”
I get up and open the door. Just a tad. You know, in case it is someone ready to throw blows.
Mitch stands on my porch, his hands in his pockets. He’s never been to my house before, at least not that I know of. “What’s up?”
“Hey.” He tries to peer into the house, but I step out and pull it closed behind me. I leave it ajar, still wary of his purpose. “You got a second to talk?”
Confusion blurs my senses. “About?”
His throat bobs with his swallow before his gaze drops. “It’s just… uh… about Ava and—”
“What about Ava?” I cut in.
He sucks in a breath, holds it, then releases with force. Shaking his head, he looks up at me, his eyes tired. “Look, I shouldn’t—I mean, I didn’t want...”
I stand taller, alarm hammering in my ribcage. “Just spit it out, man.”
His lips part, but nothing comes out, and I raise my eyebrows. Wait. “I uh... it was me…”
“The fire?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “No. Not the fire, but kind of. I guess I had something to do with that, too. And I feel guilty about that, but…”
“Jesus, man, just say it.”
He untucks his hands from his pockets, fists them at his sides. “You ever notice how all of the bad shit that happened to Ava’s house happened when Peter Parker was around?”
My eyes widen, and I take a moment to think back. He’s right. Apprehensive, I nod, wait for him to continue while a knot forms in my stomach.
“He paid me to do that shit.”
I dip my head, lean my ear closer to him because I can’t be hearing this right. There’s no fucking way. “What?”
Mitch nods. “I don’t know his angle, or what he expected to get out of it, but he paid me to vandalize her house… the paintball gun, the BB gun, all of it… he paid me to do it all, and I…”
Rage solidifies every muscle, every cell. “And you did?”
His eyes drift shut… just as the door swings open behind me. I get shoved out of the way, and all I can see is a ball of blonde hair and bright red nails holding on to the drink tray as it flies toward Mitch’s face. When the contact’s made, there’s a crack so loud even I hiss in sympathy. Mitch’s face is nothing but red from his eyes down. Blood pours—no sprays—from his nose, his lip, all down his chin, his jaw, dropping onto the porch I never got around to fixing. Before I get a chance to say or do anything, Rhys is lifting Karen by the waist and practically throwing her back into the house. Dad joins Rhys and me on the porch while we take in the mess that is Mitch. Dad’s sigh is louder than the fury building inside me. “Let me take a look,” Dad says, stepping toward Mitch. He tilts Mitch’s head back by his jaw, then clasps the bridge of