Page 41 of Bound By Them
Since we saw Dani at her grandfather’s house, the past few days have been strangely quiet. Edmund’s father and grandfather have talked about retaliating against the Aseyevs for the whiskey sabotage while outwardly making nice with shit like gift baskets. As far as I know, nothing’s happened.
When Edmund told his father he doesn’t think the Aseyevs blew up the whiskey, he was met with disbelief. He’s in his dad’s office now, arguing about it again. It’s late in the evening. Neither of them will have much patience with the other.
Edmund told me to wait out here with Arky. Seems risky, but maybe he just wants to have it out with his dad.
Since nobody’s around, I scratch Arky’s ears. “Who’s a good boy?”
The silly dog wags his tail and presses against my leg. I think Arky wishes he was one of those purse dogs so we could carry him around with us everywhere.
“They fucking did it, we know they did it!”
I wince at Ed Senior’s raised voice. It means Edmund is pressing, arguing back. It’s good, I guess, for Edmund to push his father. But it rarely ends well. Edmund never gets his way. Then Ed gloats for days afterward.
“Then what are you going to do?” Edmund yells back. “Are we going back to the old days where we all kill each other? Is that what you want for the family, for your city?”
They both go quiet. I imagine Ed talking about how San Esteban should’ve been the Laytons’ from the beginning, and if those pricks hadn’t moved in on Layton territory, we wouldn’t be in this position. It’s an argument I’ve overheard a thousand times.
I look down at Arky. He looks up at me. Sometimes I just want to take the dog and run.
But there’s no way out of this life. Not for me. Especially not for Edmund. And even if I could get out, Edmund is my best friend. I could never leave him—or Arky—behind.
Danica
Rita holds her new handbag close as we leave the movie theater. I think she’s worried someone’s going to mug her for it. I think she’s worried I’m going to mug her for it.
I won’t, although the bag is beautiful. I’ll give Edmund points for his taste. It’s a slouchy shoulder bag in pale pink, with a lollipop charm on the zipper. I haven’t touched it, but it looks soft.
If only it hadn’t come from rat-ass Edmund, I might’ve kept it.
Wallace slings his arms around Elias’s and my shoulders. “So? What did you think? Wasn’t the soundtrack epic?”
His situationship played strings for the score, and he won’t shut up about the guy. It’s kind of cute, actually, and makes me wonder what it would take for Wallace and the situationship to move things to the next level of a legit relationship.
“The soundtrack was epic.” I wrap my arm around Wallace’s waist, hugging him back. “Almost as epic as Kaido Golden’s abs.”
Wallace pretends to swoon, but then, adorably loyal, he says, “No, the soundtrack was better than Kaido’s abs.”
“The movie needed more murder.” Elias is sulking because he wanted to watch a biopic on some serial killer from the 1970s. But he picked the last film we watched for roommate movie night, and it had serial killers, too.
I nearly walk into Rita, who has stopped dead in her tracks.
She stares ahead, absently stroking the Baciarvita bag. “What’s going on up there?”
Wallace, Elias, and I peer across the street as emergency vehicles speed over to the alley across the street and come to abrupt halts.
“Someone was hurt—that’s awful,” Wallace says.
“No, someone was killed.” Elias frowns and makes the sign of the cross. “That’s no ambulance—that’s a forensics van.”
Police officers jump out of cruisers and start stringing up crime scene tape and placing barriers on the sidewalk. They move with quick, serious movements, like they’ve rehearsed this a thousand times. Other officers direct traffic and set out cones and lights. I can’t believe what I’m seeing. This is bizarre and mesmerizing. I feel horrible for wanting to stare and figure out what’s happening…but at the same time, I can’t look away.
“Everyone disperse,” an officer says as she crosses the street toward us. “Please move along.”
“Yo, did someone die?” another pedestrian shouts from behind us.
“This is a police matter.” The officer’s face gives away nothing.
“Come on.” I tug on Wallace’s arm, leading him away. Rita and Elias follow along with us.
