Chapter 26 #5
I exhale. Well, shit. I try not to notice the way the muscles in his arms move.
I try not to stare at the veins in his forearms. I try not to be mesmerized by every part of him, from his slick hair to his broad back, to the tight blue jeans he’s got on.
White socks. He’s a casual, easy hot that makes me feel… some type of way.
I tuck my own hands in the back pockets of my jeans, going for a casual look, too. Widow is taking me in with an expression that I know is mirrored on my own face. Me and him, in socks and jeans with spackling paste.
Alexei has his back to us, focused on a laptop in preparation for some Borisov Group meeting that Burt texted him about.
I’m sure that’ll be fun. Ash is going through the drawers in the room, reorganizing everything.
We changed a bunch of stuff around today.
Moved furniture. Took ugly pictures off the wall.
Stuffed what clothes we have in specific drawers, so everybody has their own space.
The shutters are open halfway, letting in a spill of golden light. There’s the sound of Alexei’s latex fingers on the keys. The shush of a drawer being pushed in. Bohnes’ heavy breathing. He is out.
“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” I tell Widow, feeling bats in my belly.
I put a hand flat over my stomach and take a deep breath.
“Bastian ambushed me in the kitchen this morning to remind me that he set up a vote at the school.” I hate this so much.
“There’s going to be a Snow Queen chosen this year. ”
“That’s like a prom queen or something?” Widow confirms, disconnected from Prescott culture by a corrupt justice system. Five years for murdering a pedophile? Widow deserves the key to the city. I nod. “Okay, so you then. What about it?” He’s looking at the wall, but all of his attention is on me.
“There’s a Snow King, too. You’ll…it’s gonna be you.” I run my fingers over my hair. It’s all wet from the bath, so I’ll need oh, about an hour to get it properly dried and brushed out.
“You think?” Widow laughs, shaking his head.
I know he doesn’t give a fuck. I don’t either.
It’s just something we should be prepared for.
“Not Bohnes? What about Marie? I know everybody hates Ash.” Widow’s face falls slightly, and he shakes his head a bit.
He likes Ash now. It’s easy to see. Nobody could miss it.
“Marie isn’t a Prescott boy. And Bohnes threatened the school years ago that if anyone ever voted him Snow King, that he’d kill them. You’re getting the crown, oh glorious King of Prescott High.” I draw a finger down his spine and he shivers like he’s pleased by the touch.
“Huh. Does that mean we get a hokey couple dance?” he wonders, his mouth twitching like he wouldn’t mind it so much.
“We’re supposed to snort coke off each other’s chests, but I’ll be passing on that particular tradition. Drugs and big dreams rarely go hand in hand. A person should never drive an army tank while hyped up on cocaine.” I shrug. “But uh, there’s actually something else…”
“You really don’t want to dance with me in front of the school, do you?” Widow shoots back, scoffing and turning back to his hole patching endeavor.
I make sure to wait for Ash to slip into the walk-in closet to hang some clothes before I respond in a whisper to Widow’s accusation. I danced with him plenty at the party the other night. How could he ever think I wouldn’t want that?
“I’ve been thinking about the Snow Queen thing.
It was Lem’s dream. It was Alexis’ legacy.
I…don’t really feel comfortable accepting it.
I have enough crowns and my head is heavy as it is.
I was thinking, if you’re okay with it, I’d like to give the Snow Queen crown to Ash. Would you dance with him instead?”
Widow is completely still, gold eyes fixed on his work and not on my face.
“It fucking kills me to admit I was wrong, but…I was wrong.” He closes his eyes and presses his forehead into his arm, leaning against the wall above the hole that he punched. I pat his arm, giving his bicep a rub that makes us both shiver.
“Better late than never. So. Will you dance with him then?”
“Yeah, I’ll dance with him.” Widow stands up, opening his eyes again and giving me an odd look, like he’s ashamed of himself for conspiring with the other boys to murder Ash.
He doesn’t need to be ashamed. He just has to listen.
“Then we’ll chase him, I guess, and help you violate him, which is something that actually sounds fun to me. ”
Widow uses a scraper on the excess spackling paste, something like disgust in his voice.
“Don’t do that.” I reach out and stroke a hand down his face. “Is this the sort of shit you were thinking about when you mentioned having dark thoughts? Telling me you’re a monster?”
“Aspen was a monster. I have good eyes for it, and you’re not it,” Ash calls out, checking Bohnes’ IV bag. “I’ll run. Whoever catches me can do whatever Scarlett permits. But if I catch someone instead…” His dark eyes are on mine. I decide it’s better not to acknowledge that.
My heart is already pounding.
“I appreciate the reassurance.” Widow sighs and finishes up with the hole, stepping back to admire his work.
It looks pretty good now, but we’ll see what happens after it dries.
It’ll need some sanding, some painting, all that.
His physical anger toward Bohnes is now patched.
“Knowing one of you will kill me if I go too far, that makes me feel better.”
I put my hand over his and he flinches, a remnant of his prior trauma: fear of touch. Imagine that, ruining the most beautiful and the most human thing in the world for someone. I wish I’d met Widow years ago, dragged him into my friend group. I could’ve protected him, even at age twelve.
Being a little girl is hard. It’s turned me into a tough bitch.
“Your video is live.” Alexei turns around in the desk chair, showing us his phone screen.
On it, there’s a video paused and waiting. One of Ash’s videos. My fingers tighten on Widow’s hand and he notices, adjusting us so that he’s the one clutching onto me. His thumb warms the ring he made for me in welding class.
“Oh, well. By all means, watch it.” Ash gestures with his hand in the direction of Alexei’s phone.
His hands are trembling as he goes about smoothing Bohnes’ blankets.
I think all of this caregiving he’s doing is a result of confusion.
He has no idea how to exist when he’s not constantly acting and playing games to keep his head above water.
The frog croaks from its terrarium.
Alexei hits play.
On the video, Mayor Kelly walks into a bedroom where his son sits surrounded by dozens of dead frogs, screaming. It looks like security footage to me. Ash can’t be more than ten in this. I wonder how he managed to get a hold of it?
Ash’s dark eyes find his father as he hyperventilates in the bed. As soon as he sees his dad, he cuts the screams off in an instant. Fear flashes across his face. Kiddie Aspen is on his knees beside the bed, giggling.
“This is what you boys wanted all those frogs for? What a mess. Ash, if you don’t stop crying, I’ll send Aspen outside to find a few more.” Jonas’ lips twist into a disturbing little smile. “Then we’ll boil them alive and make you eat them. How does that sound, Aspen?”
“Yeah!” Aspen bounces up to his feet, beyond excited at the suggestion. Two fists curled against his chest, joy barely contained. “Can we? Please?”
“Go get your boots on,” Jonas instructs, watching with an eerie smile as Aspen darts out of the room, leaving his twin with dozens of dead animals in his bed.
The baby Ash on-screen is heartbreaking, perfectly silent with fresh tears staining his face.
Jonas walks right up to the bed and leans down, one palm on the mattress.
We all watch in stunned silence as the current mayor of Springfield licks the salty tears off his son’s face. Ash doesn’t even flinch, remaining perfectly still for the entire grotesque scene. Both our Ash and the one on the video, unmoving.
“We’re going to have frog legs for dinner every night this week. If Yua cooks them for you, you’ll eat them, won’t you?”
“I…I stopped…I stopped crying,” Ash manages to whisper, his big dark eyes rending my soul in half. This video is making me so unbelievably angry that I’ve stopped breathing. “I won’t…cry anymore. Yakusoku.”
That last word—promise, in Japanese—pops out of his small mouth and child Ash goes pale.
That was a mistake.
Jonas reaches out and grabs a pillow, examining it carefully before looking up at his son.
Ash must see something on his dad’s face because he tries to run, only to be grabbed by the arm and thrown violently down on the bed.
The pillow goes over his face, pressing him into the mattress as he flails.
After a long struggle, Jonas lifts the pillow and stares stoically down at his son.
Ash is comatose and gazing up at the ceiling. His eyes are empty, but he’s still alive. Shaking, but not crying. With a sigh, Jonas tosses the pillow aside.
“How boring.” He turns on his heel and exits the room. On the way out, Aspen darts back in, wearing red rain boots and grinning from ear to ear.
He’s shoved out of the way by his father, sent stumbling into a wall, and left with a nosebleed.
Aspen puts both hands over his face and pulls them away, staring down at the red on his palms while Ash remains motionless, surrounded by the corpses of his favorite animal.
The video ends.
“Jesus.” Widow is stunned, swiping his hand down his face.
My eyes are on Ash, my body tense. He looks up and finds my gaze, flinching at whatever he sees in it. I’m not just angry anymore, I’m a special kind of fury that manifests as sadism. Jonas is our fall guy, fine. Can’t do nothin’ about Burt’s decision there.
I can ensure the man suffers once he’s locked up. Isn’t that his deal, leaving people alive so they can suffer? Death is a reprieve that Jonas doesn’t deserve.