Chapter 5 Pandora
PANDORA
I place the tablet on the stand on the desk before hitting the “accept call” button.
I’m confronted with Ares and Kratos, my two brothers, sitting on the other end.
“Hey, guys,” I say, waving to them. “What’s up?”
Ares and Kratos share a look. I don’t believe twins are psychic, but Kratos and Ares like to pretend they are.
Finally, Ares says, “Everything cool with you?”
My smile turns brittle. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
It’s not that I expected them not to find out about what happened, but that was fast for something that only happened a bit over a week ago.
“The pictures everyone’s talking about,” Kratos says, as blunt as ever. “Who the fuck does Ares need to set on fire?”
“You aren’t even offering your own services?” I say with a mild laugh. “Anyway, it’s not a big deal. I already got back at one of them.”
Ares scowls at me. He looks more like Papa than Kratos does, with the same shade of light brown hair and green eyes. Kratos is sort of a cross between Mama and Uncle Slayer, with Slayer’s very defined jawline and strong nose.
It’s kind of a weird effect, since they’re supposed to be twins. I mean, they are twins. Born on the same day and all, from the same pregnancy.
“You know it doesn’t work like that,” Ares says. “Revenge has to be paid back tenfold.”
I think to Zayden’s anguished screams, and how I’d dumped his body piece by piece into the incinerator.
“Yeah, I’m working on that. But trust me, nobody’s getting off lightly here. Anyway, what do you mean, everyone’s talking about them? You didn’t show Papa, did you?” My eyes narrow. “Because if you did, I’m not forgiving you either.”
“Of course we didn’t show him,” Kratos scoffs. “If we did, there’d be a crater where Dyschord used to be. Give us a little credit.”
“It isn’t everybody,” Ares quickly adds. “Just Kratos’s biker friends.”
Which reminds me of the whole other problem my brothers created.
“It’s your fault, anyway,” I say to Kratos. “Because of when you and your friends went to beat up the Kappa Douchebag frat. River wasn’t amused, by the way.”
“I don’t give a fuck whether that loser was amused,” Kratos retorts. “You dropped him for a reason.”
He doesn’t know what that reason is, of course.
“Well, don’t bother him again,” I say. “Or the rest of the Kappa Douchebags. I’m handling it.”
Neither of them look convinced. Overprotective losers.
I say that with affection, of course.
“Besides, don’t you two have your own shit to deal with? How’s the school year going?” I shift my chair over to the snake enclosure and open it up so I can take Echo out. She hisses at me, then calms down and coils around my wrist.
“Oh, look who’s trying to change the subject,” Kratos says, but he concedes. “It’s boring without you here. Well. Except dealing with some shithead who was trying to fuck with Mel, but we took care of that.”
That piques my interest. “A shithead who was bothering Mel? What did he do?”
Ares scratches the back of his neck. “Eh, not important. Mel wouldn’t want you to know about it.”
Which means it must have been really bad.
It probably made her cry.
Mel cries a lot easier than I do.
My younger sister is the weird one in our family. She’s sensitive, and quiet, and she never wanted to learn how to fight or cut up a body. If she had, she wouldn’t be in these situations where people constantly try to trample all over her.
“Tell me you at least burned this person’s stuff,” I say.
Ares grins. “Better. I burned all of his hair off. He was crying and screaming while Kratos held him down, and damn, the fire was beautiful. It took so much control to have it only burn his hair and none of his skin.”
“It was pretty fucking cool,” Kratos says. “I bet him he couldn’t just burn his hair, but I lost.” He doesn’t sound bothered by that fact.
“That’s good,” I say approvingly. It’s much more interesting to hear about their hijinks than worry about all of my own shit.
Like how the guys had all been so sad at the wake.
How River hadn’t let me hug him.
They tell me some other stuff that’s been going on at home: Papa and Daddy had gone on a short trip together, leaving Mama and Uncle Slayer to hold down the fort, Ares still hasn’t said anything to his crush, and Anastasia Voronkov is, of course, not Kratos’s girlfriend.
Ares is in the middle of some story about the motorcycle Kratos is trying to rebuild when the door behind them opens and Mel walks in.
She doesn’t look like somebody who’d been terrorized.
Her eyeliner and mascara are thick and un-smeared, and her dark purple lipstick matches the purple of her hair.
The eyeshadow highlights her two mismatched eyes, one brown, one green.
She’s wearing one of those complicated frilly dresses she likes, too.
Very goth chic, if highly impractical.
“Mama says food is ready,” Mel announces. She tenses when she notices me on the screen.
“Hey, Mel,” I say, waving. “How’s it going?”
“It’s fine,” she replies vaguely. “How’s Dyschord?”
Ares motions for Mel to approach. From how slowly she crosses the room I can tell she doesn’t want to, but she comes closer anyway. She sits down at the edge of the same chair Ares is using.
“Dyschord is great,” I say with a big smile. “I met a guy—well, three guys. Oh, you know River already. And also Blaze, and Asch. They’re from New Valence. I bet you’d like it there; they’ve got all the goth stuff in that town.”
Ares suppresses a laugh.
Mel doesn’t quite look scandalized, but she does look uncomfortable. She’s the one who’s always gotten picked on about our unconventional family, the one who doesn’t know how to push back. “Maybe,” she says. “What are they like?”
“Well, they’re total dicks.” My smile doesn’t leave my face, but I notice Mel tensing up. “Actually, you three got any ideas for not-too-deadly pranks? No, I’m not lighting their faces on fire.”
Ares gives me a disappointed look. “It’s a classic for a reason.”
“She’s not as good as us. She’s just scared to try it,” Kratos taunts me. “If you’re too chicken, there are always the other classics. Pig blood, sending their nudes to their parents.” His grin widens. “Cut off more body parts. Who needs pinkies, anyway?”
Mel, who had already looked like she wanted to flee, starts to get up.
Kratos taps her arm. “We’re kidding, Mel.”
We all know nobody’s kidding, but Mel lets Ares pull her back down onto the chair.
“Okay, for a less deadly prank, how about shaving their hair off?” Ares suggests. “Or convincing them to show up to a regular party in costume?”
Those both sound boring, and anyway, I don’t want to shave anyone’s hair. I like them with that hair. Blaze’s soft blond locks, Asch’s short brown hair, River’s black curls…
If I had to pick one, it would be Asch. That would regrow the fastest, and he’d have the bald look for only a few weeks at most.
Mel wraps her arms around herself. “Isn’t that just going to make them hate you?” She looks up, one green eye, one blue, staring directly at me. “I thought you liked them?”
I do.
I don’t.
They hurt me.
They need to hurt even more.
My hands curl into fists, and my chest gets that whole poked-with-a-million-needles sensation.
“You know that saying! If they can’t handle me at my worst—” I start.
“Wait, you have a good side?” Ares interrupts, making Kratos laugh.
There’s a quiet knock on the doorframe, and all three of them turn.
“Dinner’s getting cold. Your Papa will be disappointed if you don’t enjoy it properly,” Mama says.
Oh.
I haven’t spoken to Mama in a while. I mean, I send her texts and respond when she reaches out, but I don’t talk to her.
Is there anything to talk about?
Ares gets up and opens the door for her. “Hey, Mama. Want to chat with Pandora?”
I cringe internally. “If you’re having Papa’s dinner, you should all go do that for me. I’ll live vicariously through you all!”
“You’re right,” she says. She smiles at me, gentle as ever, but there’s something in her expression that tells me she knows something is up. “Kratos, Ares, Mel — go on. I’ll be right down.”
The twins exchange a look, but they both shrug and file out. Mel follows only a few steps behind, probably eager to get away from me, which has Mama sitting down at the table in front of the tablet to fill the screen.
I could end the call, but I’m not that rude to my own mother.
“Hi,” I say awkwardly.
“I’m glad to see you, Pandora,” she says. “I was hoping to get to talk to you. I know you’ve been busy.” She smiles at me, but there’s something concerned about it that has my hackles up.
Has Papa said something to her after all?
“Yeah. My intro to biochem class is kicking my ass,” I say as an excuse. “Professor Richter seems to hate me. Do you think if I offer her sexual favors, she’ll go easier on me?”
Yeah, I’m deflecting with a bad joke. If Mama is scandalized, she won’t have time to worry about anything else.
She shakes her head, but there’s a small, rueful smile on her lips. “You are your father’s child,” she says, her voice dry. “Somehow, I don’t think that will work.”
Where’s her usual scandalized outburst?
“Well, my other idea was to leave dead rats on her doorstep, but I don’t think that’ll make her like me either.” I rest my chin on my palm.
That has her eyeing me askance. “No, I don’t think it will either.” She levels me with a look. “How are you really doing?”
I tense up, because I want to lie and tell her I’m fine, everything is peachy, there’s nothing to worry about.
Even Mama wouldn’t believe that.
“I’m taking care of it,” I say instead, a lot softer this time. “I want to handle my own problems without running to my parents all the time.”
She falls silent, absently tucking a strand of long brown hair behind her ear.
“But you remember that you don’t have to deal with it alone, don’t you?
You’re an adult, and you can take care of yourself — we all know that without a shadow of a doubt — but sometimes, we need to lean on the people who love us. ”
I give Mama a crooked smile. “Don’t I have to make my own mistakes, too?”
Not that I think I’ve made any mistakes so far.
The house fire wasn’t a mistake.
Killing Zayden wasn’t a mistake.
Blaze, Asch, and River aren’t mistakes.
They can’t be.
“There are mistakes, and there are mistakes,” Mama says, but she smiles back at me, if wearily. “Try not to do anything you’ll regret. All right?”
I wonder if I could tell her what happened. If she’d understand.
But the thought of Mama knowing what they did to me makes the knives under my skin start carving.
It’s bad enough that most of Dyschord has heard about it. I’m livid that Kratos and Ares know.
There’s no reason for Mama, or Papa, or anyone else to find out what happened to me. I’d rather make hell rain down on everybody who dared to touch me, everybody who so much as looked at me, than have my family think I’m weak and vulnerable.
Because I’m not weak.
I’m not broken.
I’m going to show everybody that Pandora Pavone is not to be messed with.
Zayden already learned his lesson.
By the time I’m through, the entire university will be terrified of me.
“I’ve never done anything I’ve regretted,” I tell Mama earnestly. “You know that.”
She eyes me, clearly not believing me, but she nods. “If you ever need to talk…” She trails off. “I love you, Pandora. So do Papa and Daddy and Uncle Slayer and everyone else in this chaotic household.”
“Chaotic? I don’t know what you’re talking about. Everything’s always chill with you guys!” I make a show of nodding. “Honestly, I can’t think of any place more calm and peaceful than the Pavone household.”
Mama chuckles. “You’re right. We’re the shining example of peace and quiet, always.” She smiles at me. “I mean it, though. Anything you need, I’m here. I love you, Pandora.”
A warmth spreads in my chest.
I’ve never doubted that my family loves me, but hearing it has something melting inside me anyway.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, a bit embarrassed. “But don’t you need to hurry downstairs before all the food is gone?”
“I ate before I came upstairs,” she says, the smile on her lips turning mischievous. “I know this game. Go on, do homework. And no sexual favors in exchange for good grades.”
“Yep. Bye, Mama,” I say as I end the call.
Well. That had certainly been a call to my family.
Although, Kratos and Ares had called first. I wonder who snitched to them, and who I need to murder so they stop spreading rumors in places that really don’t need to hear these things.
I glance over to the external drive I’d found in the ruins of the Chaos frat. It needs a password for me to get in, which I obviously don’t have. I wonder if Blaze knows it.
Crap, I should have asked Kratos if his not-girlfriend Anastasia would hack it for me. She’s great at computers and spends most of her time doing things online she probably shouldn’t.
It’s better if I reach out to her directly anyway. No need for Kratos to know that I’m hacking into shit. After a quick text to Anastasia, I fumble with the drawer on my desk and pull out my notebook. Not Rachel’s notebook, but a new one I’d started last week.
My revenge book.
I’ve got pics of Asch, Blaze, and River on separate pages, along with ideas on how to hurt them jotted down.
I also have notes about their cocks and their fucking prowess, because I might as well make this a comprehensive list.
Zayden has his own page. I’d drawn a few gory images, but I’m not stupid enough to glue real crime scene photos in there. That would be a bit too incriminating.
Each of the other frat members has their own page too. Declan—already stabbed, and that’s probably what saved him because I know he couldn’t have been at the gym that night. I think River said Brock had been taken out of commission after the whole Franklin thing, so I guess he wasn’t there.
Do I count Tate as already handled, since I burned his room down? No, that was a separate crime.
Yeah. I should take care of Tate next. He’s already quaking in his boots, I bet.
I tap my pen against the page and grin.
“Let’s find out how to make you suffer, Tate,” I whisper.