The Keys to Jericho (4 page)

I look behind me to see a pudgy, hunched over artifact, who appears to be wearing pajamas of some sort. Her hair is white and stringy, and her pale skin sags, resembling that of a basset hound’s face. She’s holding onto a walker with one hand and waving to Rio with the other.

One of Rio’s patients.

Holy shit.

Stunned by her decrepit appearance and knowing that Rio has to see her naked, I instantly turn to look at him as he glances past me, slapping on a smile. “Mrs. Selznick. It’s nice to see you.”

I mumble to Dash, “At least with her clothes on this time.”

Dash whispers, “Fuck me.”

I whisper back, “Do you want me to ask her for you? Then again, she may break you in half.” He pinches my arm and I jerk away from him as I return my attention to the looming train wreck before us.

She finally makes it to our table without collapsing. “Now, now. I told you to call me Gert.” The smell of Ben Gay, some ancient perfume, and impending death, mixed with the light smoke from the grill, assault my nose and I subtly lean closer to Dash, whose Backstreet Boys or Michael Jordan cologne is now greatly appreciated. If I could put my nose against his neck and not look like I’m trying to make out with him or suck his blood, I would be all over him.

Duquesne contends, “And I told
you
I’m not a doctor, and to just call me Rio.”

I’m pretty sure Grandma Moses can’t hear me, so I quietly inform Dash, “He just pretends to be one to get into their pants.” Unfortunately, Rio
isn’t
deaf and he subtly pounds his fist on the table, without a doubt warning us to shut our mouths.

“Oh, hush.
Rio
is that damn movie my grandkids watch.” My fist automatically goes to my mouth to stifle a howl. Without looking at me still, Rio irritably clears his throat and anxiously pulls on the edge of his menu, which only makes me laugh more, causing a chain reaction with Dash.

She goes on, “Who cares about if you’re
official
? You deserve that title with all that you’ve done for me.” Fuck, the mental pictures coming to mind are going to keep me awake for years.

She turns to Dash and me, and I miraculously keep a straight face somehow. She points to Rio and loudly exclaims, “This young man found my polyps, and since they’ve been removed, I’m pain free! He’s such a prince!” She claps her hands together and grins at Rio. “My uterus thanks you!”

Our waitress picks this exact moment to deliver our drinks. Hearing that bit, her eyes pop open along with her mouth. No longer staring at Rio in awe, she instead looks scared now. She stammers that she’ll return for our orders and makes a hasty retreat.

Once more hiding my mouth behind my fist, I try like hell not to blatantly laugh. Dash isn’t so capable as I feel him shaking beside me, no doubt covering his mouth with his arm in an effort to be stealthy, yet looking anything but. I can’t look directly at him or I’ll definitely lose it.

Fed up with us, Rio steely glares at Dash and me with a telepathic
fuck you,
absolutely wanting to knock our heads together before strangling us both.

She pats him on the arm, which makes his face turn a bright red. “Have a good evening, doc.”

As she waddles away, Dash and I are no longer able to contain ourselves, leaning against each other and gasping for air.

Looking horrified, Dash leans forward and urgently whispers, “You have to see her naked?”

Still in disturbed awe, I say to Rio, “Holy fuck. Remember in
The Shining
how that kid was called “Doc,” and when that naked chick suddenly turned old? That was—”

“You two assholes need to knock it off,” Rio seethingly interrupts me, but it only serves to make us laugh harder.

“I’m so sorry, Prince of Polyps,” Dash wheezes in between laughs.

Swallowing my own laughs, I staggeringly add, “Your Majesty, I’d spread my legs for you, but I don’t have polyps
or
a pussy.”

He narrows his eyes, darting them wildly back and forth between Dash and me. “She’s a very nice lady and she’s my patient, so cut the shit.” He irritably glances over our heads and his frown immediately converts into a smile, inexplicably forgetting what just happened. Instantly curious, Dash and I turn to look, but don’t see anyone behind us.

Apparently, we were too slow because next to our table, a familiar, nasally voice says, “Hi.”

Whipping our heads around at the same time, Dash and I see Liberty sliding in next to Rio, kissing him on the mouth.

Right in front of me.

And where I’ll be eating my food.

And stealing the air I breathe.

What the fuck?

Dash cheerily says, “Hey, Liberty! Nice to see you! You’re having dinner with us?” Clenching my hands tightly and glaring at the side of Dash’s head, I’ve never wanted to throttle the living shit out of someone as much as I want to right now.

“Yeah, if that’s okay?”
No. You need to get up and drive somewhere far, far away. Like Taiwan.

Dash delightfully answers for me, “Of course it’s okay!” I can’t believe killing someone with a look doesn’t work.
Fucker.

“Jare?” Didn’t the asshole next to me just answer? Do I actually have to verbalize an answer, because I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to hear it.

“What?” I stupidly ask as I finally look away from Dash, who is purposefully ignoring me. Grabbing my beer, I morosely open my menu and pretend to peruse the options.

“Aren’t you going to say something?” Rio asks with an underlying edge.

Without looking up from my menu, I dutifully reply, “I guess I’ll order the buffalo burger.”

“That’s
not
what I meant,” he states, sharpening that edge.

Dash kicks me from the side and I turn to glare at him again, clinching my jaw shut. How in the fuck did I get into this situation? All I wanted to do was spend time with my best friends. Not that ball-busting skank.

Still glowering at Dash, because that’s the only place I can look without vomiting the food I haven’t even eaten yet, I angrily sigh and mutter a compulsory, “Hey, Libby.” She hates that, so it makes me smile and for Dash to kick me again.

“Jerry.” And I hate
that
.

Touché, bitch.

I fleetingly glance at Rio, giving him a brief but unmistakably irritated glare, before forcing myself to look at Liberty. Her blonde hair is taco-shell yellow, slightly darker than Dash’s color, and her eyes are blue, just like everyone else’s at this table, except mine. However, unlike Rio’s or Dash’s, her blue eyes remind me of a choking jellyfish.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“I
invited her,” Rio snaps, boring his eyes into me. Perching my elbows on the table, I shake my head and look away.

As our waitress cautiously returns, we all give her our orders. Not really interested in eating anymore, I sit back and start picking at the corner of the label on my beer.

When she walks away, Rio sharply repeats, “
I
invited her.”

I continue giving my bottle all of my attention, but spare effort to curtly respond, “Because you had no choice.”

I know
she
is shaking her head. I can tell because I hear her large, silver hoop earrings metallically swishing along with her ponytail. “River asked me to come.”
River
. Besides the prehistoric fossil that was just at our table, Liberty refuses to call him
Rio.
On the other hand, if she did, I think it would also piss me off just because it’s coming from
her
.

“Jare,” Rio says calmly, yet making it all the more menacing.

I reluctantly look up from the bottle to the bitch across from me and fume, “Can’t you let him have a night to himself?”

Liberty opens her mouth to spew something, but she’s cut off by Rio, the coolness he previously displayed seconds ago slips as he answers, “I
asked
her to be here. How many times do I have to tell you that?”

My frustrated gaze slides to him. His lips are pursed and his eyes are intense, but don’t really give anything away, which is normal for him. “Why? You need a chaperone, Duquesne?”

Dash hits my hand with his fork, causing pain to reverberate across my knuckles. Skating my hands off the table, I swiftly give him a dirty look, only for him to respond with one of his own. As much as I’m used to Rio keeping his cool, I’m also
not
used to Dash being anything but cheerful.

This is an odd turn of events.
I’m
usually the unstable one and ironically, I’m the only one here making any sense.

Retreating from Dash’s condemning scowl, I glance around the room at the décor, anything to avoid looking at Dash, across the table into the eyes of the beast, or at the beast’s prey next to her. I feel Rio’s harsh glare, but if I return the look, he’ll see in my eyes just how much I don’t care.

After a few hushed minutes, Dash starts yacking again, and I have to drown out the casual banter between Liberty and him because it makes me physically ill. Rio remarks here and there, but doesn’t say as much as Frick and Frack do. I count down the seconds until I can eat my dinner and get the fuck out of here.

My stomach twists and I reach for my beer to douse the feeling, although, it’ll take more than beer to eradicate this nausea. Then again, it could very well make me barf, which I welcome anything that would either get rid of this feeling, or Liberty.

“Jericho does.” Dash elbows me and I unwillingly look from the giant swordfish hanging on the wall to Calder’s expectant face.

“What?”

Liberty clears her throat and says, “I was just asking if any of you like to go to the beach?”

I revert my attention to the dead fish on the wall, but attempt to be somewhat cordial for Duquesne’s sake. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

I shrug as I study the swordfish, wanting to catch one like that someday. Hell, I’d go for catching a bluegill if it meant I could be anywhere but here. “I grew up not far from the beach, so it’s kind of passé.”

Rio bitingly says, “Shut up, Jare. You love the water. Don’t be pissy.”

Mercifully, our food is brought to the table and I instantly start on my sandwich, gawking at it as if it’s giving me a lap dance, just to avoid looking in front of me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of Liberty’s hand moving up and down on Rio’s leg and I pause. No. She’d better
not
be doing what I think she’s doing.

Struggling to swallow my food before it makes a reappearance, I take a long drink before leaning forward to loudly whisper, “Could you not jack off my best friend in front of me? I’m trying to eat.”

She nearly spills her pop as she quickly puts it down, protesting, “I-I’m not!” Liberty pulls away from Rio, actually appearing embarrassed. She mutters, “I was rubbing his leg. That’s all.” She glances at Dash for sympathy, which she probably gets.

“Jared,” Rio growls as his blue eyes flash brighter. I can’t help but roll mine at him.

I pick up my burger in a huff and try to gag the rest of it down. The table is thankfully quiet as we eat, but it only lasts a few minutes before Dash has to open his mouth. Vaguely, I hear Liberty saying something about a beach. If it doesn’t involve her drowning at one, I couldn’t care less.

I’m content enough to eat in silence, and be left out of the conversation, until Dash asks, “Why don’t you stay at my dad’s beach house with Rio, Jared, and me for the Fourth of July weekend?”

My burger topples out of my hand and I yell, “Dash, shut up!”

Rio bellows, “Jared!”

“No! That’s our fishing trip and
our
time. No girls allowed!”

Rio argues, “We’re not 12 and it’s not a treehouse! None of us had a woman we wanted to bring with us before!”

Liberty meekly says, “That’s okay. Thanks anyway, Dash.”

Dash continues to plead his fucking case, “No, it’s cool. Really. You don’t have to fish. We also have bonfires, watch movies, play beach volleyball with the neighbors, and just relax. You can always hang out on the beach or whatever.”

Tearing his blazing eyes away from me, Rio strokes her back and says, “Dash is right. You should come. We each have a room there. It’s not like I have to bunk with
anyone
.” He swiftly glares at me, and I shake my head as I turn to stare at the fish again.

As I take a swig of my beer while looking out the window on the other side of the room, I hear Dash dragging his bottle across the wooden table and he says, “Yeah, just keep it down when you two are getting it on.”

I slam my bottle down, facing the three most irritating people here. “Oh, hell no. You can fuck her elsewhere, Duquesne. Like Baltimore.”

He roars, “Jared! Outside
. Now
.”

I glance over at the bar and see two guys wearing matching, dark blue T-shirts with white lettering, who are taking in our show. I frown at them and they quickly look away, speculating about our drama, I’m sure.