Page 74 of Wrath

She shivers, and it's totally real. Then she's laughing. She turns her back to the card game, wraps her arms around my neck, and she says, "Ezra Masters. That was naughty. Downright dirty. You...scoundrel."

Over her shoulder, I see DG. Dude's looking in our direction. I wrap my arms around Cara, giving her a hug I probably need more than she does.

She beams up at me like I'm her hero. It feels good to be the nice guy for once.

"Is he looking?" she whispers.

"Oh yeah." I haven't been keeping a close eye on James—I was too busy scoping out DG—but dude is definitely glaring at us right now.

Landry, as it turns out, is pretty good at pool. I guess she’s been holding back to give James a chance to see me helping Cara, but she must be bored now because she starts sinking allthe stripes. I have to go after the solids. I pretend my back's not sweaty underneath my shirt. That my hands don't want to break the fucking pool stick.

Arnie's re-located; now he's beside DG.

The next time I look, DG's got his cheek in his palm, his elbow propped on the card table. He looks tired. When he gets up a second later, disappearing through a door I figure must be a restroom or bedroom, I try not to stare a hole in Arnie.Don't you follow, fucker. When a few minutes have passed and Arnie's still playing cards, I excuse myself and try the door DG went into.

It’s a bathroom—hunter green tiles and a green and brown duck shower curtain. There's a door at the other end of the small room, and that door is open.I move through the lamplit bathroom into another small room, a dark space that makes my fucking stomach flip so hard I almost can't step forward.

"DG?"He doesn't answer, but I think I hear him breathing. "That you?" I ask, stepping toward the soft sound. My eyes adjust, and I see...a couch?Yep. He's sitting on a couch that's pushed against the bedroom's back wall. Something tightens just below the base of my throat as I take another slow step toward him.

"Hey...you okay?"

"Are you a dickface?" His voice is a rasp, which makes the tightness in my throat spread down to my chest.

I notice he's holding a Solo cup in one hand. "Is it good to drink tonight?"

He takes a sip. "You should tell me. This is root beer."

I give him a smile. "I’m not drunk driving with such precious cargo."

"Fuck you, Ezra."

"Yeah, yeah. Wish you could." I step closer to him. "You’re tired. I’ve been watching you. You’re really obvious."

"Oh yeah. How is that?" He shuts his eyes and leans his head against the spine of the couch. Ifeel bad about my lie, and the reality behind it. I wasn't watching him to see if he was okay. I was watching him with Arnie like a jealous boyfriend.

"It's just obvious to me," I tell him quietly. "You were playing pool, but you were sitting down a lot of the time otherwise. Your face is tired. When you smile, it looks tired. You need to go home."

He makes a snort sound, lifting his eyes open. "Is that right, Dad?"

"Daddy's here to take you home, kid."

His eyes hold mine. Even in the dark, I see them boring into me. "Maybe I’ve got someone else who’s gonna take me."

"Arnie?" I ask.

"Maybe."

My chest feels like someone's squeezing it. "Well, is he?"

"Might be."

"He’s a fucker if he hasn't followed you in here." Then a worse thought hits me. "Are you waiting for him?"

"No." He rubs his head. Now that my eyes are adjusting to the dark, I can confirm he looks exhausted.

I hold a hand out for him. “C’mon, Mills. Let’s go.”

"I don’t need your hand." He gets to his feet.

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