Chapter 11 - Dex - Past
eleven
Dex - Past
FROM GOLD TO GONE.
“Three times,” I mumbled as Archer stopped yapping on about the things he’d heard through his connections about the Deltran Drakes. Stupid name, though ours wasn’t much better. Archer had been so pissed when they’d dubbed us the Port Skelton Strays, but I kind of liked it.
“Three times what?”
“Three times Jonah’s run away from me now,” I said, rolling my eyes, because obviously that’s who I was talking about. Who else would I give a fuck about? I wasn’t entirely sure why I gave a fuck about him either, but that didn’t matter.
“Dex. Forget about Jonah Hargreaves, for fuck’s sake. This weird little interest in him has already caused me a fucking mess. We’re lucky no one ended up dead last weekend. End it now.”
“Ha! Good one, Archer.” Bryce laughed from his sofa like the idiot he was. “You know you’ve just made him more interested in Jonah now, yeah?”
Maybe he wasn’t such an idiot after all, because Archer telling me not to go after Jonah certainly did make me want to do it more.
“Who is Jonah?” spoke mister strong and silent from his brooding corner of the room. Henrik spent little time in Port Skelton, unlike his twin, but with tensions as high as they’d been lately between the two groups—perhaps largely due to myself—Archer had asked him to spend some more time here.
His presence alone was definitely a deterrent.
I’d been described as crazy before, but even I wouldn’t mess with Henrik.
Why would I? There was nothing to gain from messing with a guy who literally could not feel pain.
All punching him would do was hurt your hand, and probably turn him on or something, I don’t know. Henrik was a weird fucker.
“Jonah Hargreaves. He used to live here like forever ago but then his sister died or something and he moved away with his bitch of a mom, but now he’s back and Dex is like crushing on him or something,” Bryce so eloquently explained, but there was a new piece of information there he’d neglected to share with me previously.
I sprung on him, wrestling as he tried to wriggle away, all bony arms and legs as he screeched like a dying chicken. “What the fuck?” he squealed.
“His sister died? You weren’t going to fucking share that with me earlier? You little fucking shit! I told you to tell me everything!”
“I forgot or something! I swear! Wasn’t intentional, man! Lemme go, you’re messing up my hair!”
Idiot. Never reveal your weaknesses. I grabbed a handful of artificial blue strands, not expecting them to be both crunchy and sticky. Disgusting. On point for Bryce, I supposed. I let him go, wiping my hand clean on his T-shirt before wondering if that was any cleaner.
“Tell me now. Everything this time,” I demanded.
“I don’t know everything.” Understatement of the year. “She was a few years older than us in school. They both just stopped coming one day, and then the school announced that she’d died, and there was like a vergal or something.”
“Vigil,” Archer corrected as he flopped down on another sofa, eyes on his phone.
This place had been thrown together for when we met up like this.
A bunch of furniture that belonged at the dump had been pulled from curbsides and shoved into this crumbling shack of a home in Meadow Park. Not that any of us actually lived here.
“Died of what?” I pressed Bryce for more information.
“Dude, I don’t know, okay? Ask Jonah.”
Somehow I doubted that would do anything but get him to run away again. I’d find out, though. When I was determined to find something, there was little that could stop me until I got what I wanted.
“You were there.” I snapped my attention to Archer.
“Don’t know, don’t care,” he responded with a shrug.
“This Jonah,” Henrik interrupted. “Why does he run away from you?”
“Who wouldn’t?” Bryce added, and I punched him in the jaw. Pain flared in my bruised knuckles, but it hurt him more than me, so worth it.
“Maybe he just likes to run,” I answered casually, though that question had been on my mind the entire week since our little moment in Meadow Park.
I’d intended to provoke Jonah then, mostly because there’d been something building between us I didn’t quite know what to do with.
Jonah had caused a fight with Budget Hulk on my behalf over some homophobic comment, so I knew he didn’t have that issue, but that also didn’t mean he was gay.
I could have sworn I’d made him blush, though, and given the opportunity, I was definitely going to do it again.
“And you can’t catch him?” Henrik asked with a raised eyebrow. I smiled in response. That was an excellent point. If Jonah insisted on running away from me again, I would just have to chase him.
“He can’t be too fast with that limp,” Bryce added, and I hit him again. That one really hurt. I groaned as I shook it out.
I’d noticed the limp and was determined to uncover the story behind it. I wanted to know everything there was to know about Jonah.
Henrik left his corner perch, approached his twin on the decrepit sofa, and snatched the phone out of his hand. “What the fuck?” Archer snapped. “Use your own damn phone.”
“No,” was Henrik’s curt reply as he typed something.
They were identical twins in their facial features and height alone.
Where Archer was slim and toned, Henrik was fucking built.
Widest shoulders I’d ever seen on someone who wasn’t a professional bodybuilder.
Archer kept himself clean-shaven, his light brown hair styled purposefully into something he definitely wanted people to think happened naturally—parted at the center, with soft waves that stopped over his cheekbones like he wanted to be some ’90s heartthrob.
Henrik, in contrast, had a full beard, and long hair that I’d never seen outside of its neat bun.
There were scars all over Henrik’s hands and arms that I didn’t want to know the story behind.
I mean I did, but I wouldn’t ask. He also had all his fingers, unlike Archer, who was missing the smallest one on his left hand.
The way they spoke was different too. Even though they’d both grown up here, Henrik spoke like English was a second language to him—not that his English wasn’t fluent and perfect, but his Hungarian accent was noticeable.
I knew little about their family situation, only that Archer would shut down the topic any time I tried to pry.
“Amateurs,” Henrik chuckled. “Jonah Joseph Hargreaves… Local Deltran Teen Running Prodigy Breaks Regional Record… Track Star JJ Hargreaves Talks Dreams, Discipline, and the Drive to Win… From Pavement to Podium: How Jonah Hargreaves is Racing Toward Greatness…” Henrik locked eyes with me for a moment before continuing.
“Olympic Hopeful Jonah Hargreaves Hospitalized After Hit-and-Run Accident.” He dropped the phone back into Archer’s hands, who picked it up to look at the screen with renewed interest.
There was something in my throat too big to swallow as I snatched Bryce’s phone out of his hands to search his name and see for myself.
There were so many articles, so many pictures of him—running, winning, smiling.
I sank down onto the sofa as I opened up one of the more recent ones…
From Gold to Gone: Where is JJ Hargreaves now?
I couldn’t even bring myself to care as Bryce leaned into me to read off the broken phone screen.
No wonder he seemed so angry all the time. I hadn’t even thought to google him, hadn’t thought he was someone they’d write news articles about, but I could see it now. He still carried it with him… the pride. It was wounded and damaged, but it was still there.
Now he was here, in hell with the rest of us scum.
Jonah Joseph Hargreaves had just gotten a lot more interesting.
“Remind me again why we are going to this?” Henrik’s voice came through the intercom in my helmet as we pulled up to the extravagant house on the Port Skelton foreshore.
“I just need to see someone about something,” Archer responded.
Henrik sighed. “Wow, very informative. You think the Drakes will be here?”
Archer shrugged. “Whether they are or not, it’ll be good for people to see that you’re back in town.”
“What?” Bryce shrieked, the sound crackling through the comms as I killed the engine. I fought the urge to punch him, only because he was still on his bike and just out of reach. “Y’all, why did no one tell me it was a costume party?” he whined. “I would have dressed up. Now we look lame as fuck.”
I did not want to see Bryce in a costume, so I wouldn’t have told him about it even if I had known there was a theme night happening. It looked like a Halloween party even though Halloween was weeks ago.
I pulled my helmet off and secured it to my baby, then I retied my hair into a bun. I hated drunk people, and I hated parties. Everyone was far too loud and obnoxious and stupid. Bryce didn’t need alcohol for that, but with it he was going to be even worse.
Still, I knew I’d seen Becca at these kinds of events, and where Becca went lately, so did Jonah.
“Let’s go,” I said after wiping a smudge off my rear fender. I led the way into the house, with its lights and music spilling out over the front lawn as if it were just as intoxicated as its inhabitants.