Finding Ford

chapter twenty six

"Will you take me to Nirvana?" -Sam Smith, Nirvana

 

JAMES' FACE IS COLD AND EXPRESSIONLESS AS HIS DARK EYES skim Ford and I. We're both frozen and stiff, eyes focused on one place: the gun in his hand. I want to run, and grab Ford's hand to take a step back to do so, but before I can get anywhere, James shakes his head.

"Stay," he demands, his voice so cold and so unforgiving that it sends shivers down my back. "All my dad needs is one text from me before he goes breaking into your home," he tells Ford.

"Leave my dad out of this," Ford snaps at James, any fear that was on his face before suddenly morphing into anger. "My family has no part in whatever hatred you have for me-"

"You're kidding me, right?" James laughs, though it comes out sounding strangled.  "This is all about your family."

"It's true, isn't it?" I whisper. "About Ford's mom?"

Ford's face pales significantly, and I'm surprised to see that James' does, too. My eyes quickly flicker to the gun in his hands, as it shines from the moonlight raining down from the windows above. His knuckles are clenched so tightly around the gun, I'm genuinely worried that'll snap in half if he adds anymore pressure. Either that, or James' fingers will break. I'd prefer the latter.

"Your mom broke my dad's heart," James spits at James. "She goes and sleeps with him for Christ knows how many times, takes his money, and then when my dad asks what they are, she says an affair. She wouldn't leave her husband, who all she talked about was how much she hated him for my dad, who actually loved her." James takes a step closer, and I instinctively take one back, but Ford doesn't. He stands there, frozen, barely breathing.

Finally, he snaps out of it, shaking his head. "You're lying. My mom loved my dad. She wouldn't- she couldn't-"

"Try to remember, Ford," James growls, and my eyes widen at the fire burning in his eyes. A killer fire. "Those nights your mom would go out for errands and come back with one can of soup? That soup was from my cabinet, from my house."

"What about your mom?" Ford snaps back.

James rolls his eyes. "As if you can even call her that. She's not a mom, she's a lying, cheating bitch that just keeps coming back for the money..." His voice fades into angered grumbles, his grip on his gun tightening even more. I can't help it- my eyes won't stay off the gun.

"James," I say his name softly, as if he were a ticking time bomb, and anything can set him off. It sort of feels like it. "Put the gun down. We can talk about this."

"I don't want to talk about this!" James exclaims. The temperature in the room seems to drop even more. I feel like the cold walls are closing in on us. James' eyes are trained on Ford, and I can't help but feel a surge of fear for Ford. "I can't look at you! You look just like her, damn it! I thought I actually could have a mom, but no, all your mom did was throw my dad into a drinking spiral and got him back into smoking and it's all your fault, all your fucking fault-"

There are tears streaming down James' face. They're not tears of sadness, though. They're tears of anger and desperation, and I have to say, the sight of someone like that is almost hellish. It tears at my heart, even if right now I'm beyond livid with James, to see someone so broken up about something.

I try interfering again. "James, I get why you're angry. I do. But this has nothing to do with Ford."

James just shakes his head, as if denying it enough would mean what I'm telling him isn't real. "No. No, I need all the Wilson's gone."