Chapter Seventeen - PAX
I roll over on the bed, so fucking hot I’m sticking to the sheets. I need water.
“Water,” I croak, hoping Cindy will hear me. Take pity on me. Bring me water.
But I get silence in return, so I open my eyes. Well, it’s a little more complicated than that. You know when you try to open your eyes but that shit is heavy, like they’re practically glued together?
I only manage to raise my eyebrows.
“Cin,” I croak out again.
Silence.
“Cookie?” I sound like fucking Cookie Monster, that’s who I sound like right now.
I roll over once more, fall off the bed, land in a tangle of sweat-soaked sheets, and give up.
I might even doze off a little, because the next thing I know, I’m being kicked and someone is saying, “Mysterious? You alive down there?”
I raise my head, manage to open one eye, and stare up at Five Aston. “Dude,” I say. “I need water.”
I think I say that. It mostly comes out as growls and grumbles.
But a few seconds later he sets a glass down on the floor. “What the fuck happened to you, dude?”
I don’t answer, just sit up, lean against the bed, and swallow down the most delicious glass of water ever.
I hold it out when I’m done. Begging for more.
Five rolls his eyes, but takes the glass and returns with more. I gulp that too, then wipe my mouth and say, “Where’s Cindy?”
“I dunno,” Five says. “Haven’t seen her all morning. Are you still drunk? Dude, you smell.”
As with all second-day drunks, the smell eludes me. But I take his word for truth, and manage to get myself upright and on my feet. “Why are you here?” I ask, sitting back down on the bed before I fall over.
I am still drunk. How did I get so drunk?
“I need something fixed,” he says, all serious and shit.
“What?” I ask.
“I said, I need—”
“No, dumbass. What do you need fixed? I can hear just fine.”
He looks at me like I’m a dick. And I am. But Five Aston is too, as far as I’m concerned. We’re two peas in a pod. He just hides it better.
“My kids, man—”
“You want me to off your kids? Dude—”
“Don’t be a dumbass. No. I want you to steal the tests they’re taking so they can’t go to school next year. Or better yet,” he says, getting a little more animated and excited. “No. Let the tests leave the island, then steal them. And we’ll blame it on Ming.” He thinks about that for a second and shakes his head. “Nah, I can’t blame Ming. That will really piss the girls off. We gotta do this today.”
I just look at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“My kids, man! My kids are taking some school entrance exams and they’re little fucking geniuses, OK? They’re gonna ace that shit. They’re gonna get into the best fucking school on the planet.”
“So what’s the problem?” Maybe I’m too drunk to understand or maybe I’m just slow. But I have no clue where this is going.
“They can’t leave the island!”
“Why?”
“Why?” he spits. “Why? You of all people know why, Mysterious. Everyone is out to get us.”
I actually laugh at that.
“It’s not fucking funny, OK? I’ve kept them safe for twelve years and now Rory is insisting that they go to school.”
“Don’t all kids go to school?”
“Are you a moron? Do you not speak English? They can’t leave. Someone will find them, Pax. I gotta keep them here for their own safety. I can’t let my little girls out in this world. It’s too fucked up, man.”
I rub my hand down my face. I really need a shower. “So let me get this straight… you think you can keep your kids from growing up?” I laugh. Pretty loud too.
“No,” Five says. “But they’re only twelve, man. Twelve!” He grabs the collar of my t-shirt and pulls me to my feet, shaking me along the way for good measure. “You’re not listening to me! I need this fixed! I’m pretty sure you owe me, Mysterious. I saved your ass.”
“Yeah, and got both my islands blown up with that stupid plan of yours.”
“That was you, dude! That plan was yours!”
Oh, yeah, kinda was, wasn’t it? “Well, fuck. I’m not sure I agree with you, bro. Kids gotta go out into the world some time, right? Just deal with it. Where the fuck is Cindy?”
Five glares at me. Like he maybe wants to punch me in the mouth right now. But he takes a deep breath and says, “Cindy’s gone.”
“Gone where?” I ask.
He holds up a piece of paper and it takes me a minute to realize what it is. Then I snatch it out of his hand, my heart racing like it might gallop right out of my chest… and then… and then…
And then I realize it’s a joke.
Sorta.
“She left this on the bedside table. Presumably this is some kink the two of you do?”
I read the note—which is cut-out magazine letters pasted onto a piece of paper, classic kidnapper style. It says,
Help! I’m being held prisoner in a cookie factory!
I laugh. “Goddamned cookie factory. She’s so damn cute, right?” Then I look up at Five and say, “Seriously, dude. Where is she?”
He grins. Kind of an evil grin, if I do say so.
“She ran off,” he says. “That’s all I know.” And then he winks. Like actually fucking winks at me. “But if you help me… if you do me this favor… I’ll tell you where I think she went. Because what I do know, Paxton Vance, is that she’s not coming back unless you find her. Heard her tell Ellie that this morning. She’s sending you on a hunt, my friend. And I also heard her say, and this is word for word, that she’s gonna make you prove yourself before she shows up at that wedding.”
I really am drunk right now, right? “How long was I asleep?”
“Take it or leave it, man.” And then he looks at his watch. “The kids still have a few more hours of testing, so I’ll give you the first hint for free. But if you cross me, Mysterious…” He makes a slicing motion across his throat. “I’ll gut you.”
I might actually be having a stroke. Or maybe I slept for like a hundred years, like that Rip Van Winkle dude.
“Deal?”
I sigh as I stand back up, being more careful this time so I don’t wobble too much and fall over. “Whatever. You want me to fix your kids by stealing their dreams, fine. Now tell me where to find Cindy.”
“Cookie factory is the clue, right?” Five says.
I look down at the note. “Guess so.”
“Well, that’s gotta be the kitchen house. Rory and the girls have been baking stuff for the wedding all week. Come find me this afternoon and you can pay me back then, OK?”
But before I can answer, he takes off.
“OK,” I call out.
But I really need a shower, so Miss Cookie will have to wait in her bakery prison a little bit longer. Because when I find her sweet cheeks, I’m gonna spank them red for driving me crazy and then I’m gonna roll her around in sugar and lick it all off her… and I won’t be smelling like yesterday’s drink when I do it.
It takes me a while to find the kitchen house. Who the fuck has a kitchen house anyway? Five really needs to invest in some banging AC so he can cook in the real house, if you ask me.
But whatever. I see it up ahead now. Just a little brick building on the west side of the house. Kinda hidden by the jungle mostly, but the path leading up to it is straight, so I head that way.
I can already smell her. It’s probably just the pastries and shit they’re making for the wedding, but I like it. I don’t call her Miss Cookie for nothin’. It smells just like her.
I try to picture what’s she’s got planned for me. She was all into that date day thing last night. I don’t remember much about what happened yesterday beyond my fascination with I Wanna Be an Airborne Ranger song. But I never forget anything about my cookie, so that all came back to me.
She’s probably gonna be naked. We fuck in the kitchen all the time. Once I even came home to find little chocolate chips glued all over her body with dried honey. I ate dessert first that night.
I can’t really see inside, and I can’t hear nothin’ as I walk up to the door, either. But I can imagine it… oh, fuck, yeah.
I kick the door open like a badass and yell, “I’m here to save you, Miss Cookie!”
And get silence.
“Cookie?” I call out. “Cindy? You here?”
There’s lots of flour scattered all over the place. And sugar. And now that I look closer, I see red frosting on the counter and a whole tray of cookies scattered on the floor.
I shake my head. Damn, she’s good at this detective game, isn’t she?
“Cin-der-ella!” I sing out. “Where are you?”
I walk around the flour-covered table and find more frosting on the floor. But… but wait.
I bend down and swipe my finger across it.
That’s not frosting.
It’s blood.