Badly Behaved

As if Anthony heard her question from wherever he is, my phone rings down the hall and I know it’s him, ready to threaten us with the only pull he has left, guardianship over Sienna. But I never would have flipped his blackmail on him if there were even the slightest chance he would still have the power to turn Ransom’s world upside down.

Anthony Blanca is about to fall, but unlike my mother, his knees will hit the floor.

Soon, but not yet.

We have an email set up to auto send three days from now at four a.m. on the dot. So, if it happens as it did with my mother, as soon as the sun rises that day, the police should be pulling up to Admiral Law, where they’ll find dozens of ‘stolen,’ sensitive case files. Files Anthony paid a guy to steal in order to collect dirt on my mother for his big extortion plan.

Little did he know, the man he paid to spy on my mother, worked for her, so she passed over the requested files with a smile.

She knew all along what he had on her, and she made sure her every base was covered should this day ever come.

If she were ever to go down, she was taking him with her.

She was the shark in the water, and Anthony was nothing but one of many minnows.

By default, Anthony will lose guardianship over Sienna, and Ransom, eighteen the day it’s set to happen, will finally be the one responsible for her care, just as he’s always wished.

A strange sense of heaviness settles over me, but as it does, my lungs seem to expand, and the jumbled mess in my mind dispels.

I turn to Ransom, and his hand automatically comes up, gliding into my hair, my smile soft and slowly curving.

“Baby?” His grip tightens.

My mouth hooks higher. “You’re not the only one who gets to set the world aflame.”

His chuckle is low and rasped.

And then he kisses me.

Jules’ parents are having their daughter buried in the same memorial park as my father, and due to the nature of her death, her parents had personal fears and worries surrounding today, what those were we may never know, but as a result, only myself, Dax and Cali are invited to be there with the family.

But as we pull up to the gate, the six of us silently seated in the back of the Marino limo, Mrs. Marino’s hand flies to her mouth, and her eyes widen, tears instantly pouring down her cheeks.

The streets are packed from right to left as far as you can see, at all four corners and every which way. Student after student, teacher after teacher, hold flowers and bears, signs, and candles. There is no less than two hundred of our peers.

Some are crying, hugging the person at their sides while others stand silently, watching as we pull into the entrance. As we begin to cross the threshold, Mrs. Marino shouts, “Stop!”

The driver jolts, and we’re forced to grab on to the seats, so we don’t slide right off of them.

She goes to push the door open, but her husband grabs her hand, holding her there with wide eyes.

“Honey, they just want to feel close to her too,” he tells her, afraid she’s going to lash out and lose it.

She might.

Shaking, Mrs. Marino turns to her husband, looks to the rest of us, and then to Amy sitting opposite her.

Amy’s head is turned away, her shoulders coiled in, but out of the corner of her eye, she stares at her mother, and when her mother reaches for her hand, Amy darts forward, nearly falling at her mother’s feet she’s so eager to feel the connection.

My eyes cloud over and look away, as I run my tongue along my teeth to try to hold it together.

My mother has said and done some awful things to me, but when she fell to the ground beside me at my father’s grave, none of that mattered, at least not in that moment.

I imagine Amy feels the same.

Mrs. Marino opens the door, and together, she and her family step out and onto the curb. Slowly, Dax, Cali, and I follow.

Cali grips both our hands and together, we hold back, waiting to see what will be said.

“Thank you all for being here with us today,” Mrs. Marino manages to say. “I know it means the world to her.”

She buries her face in her husband’s neck, hugging her daughter to her side.

Mr. Mirano fights to keep his composure, and slowly nods. “Please, join us. Juliet would want that, and we’re sorry we didn’t realize this before now.”

We wait beside the car, allowing the family to slip past us, but as they do, Amy’s eyes find mine and there’s something inside them, a silent cry maybe, I don’t know.