Page 65 of Devious Gambit

“Maybe it’s time to break the news to them,” I suggested.

“News? That I’m abandoning the family business to study coral. Man, that will thrill them. It’s their dream to have both sons working in the firm. They’re relying on us to take over the business one day. But my older brother has already made it clear that he wants nothing to do with it, so now it’s down to me.”

“And your sister,” I added.

“Mentally, she’s on fire, but her form of CP is reasonably severe and we’re not expecting her to live long. There’s also heaps of complications, like breathing difficulties and abnormal muscle tone and…” He took a deep breath and exhaled as if he was breathing out all his frustrations. “Life’s weird. It’s seems fucked up how some people are dealt a bad hand from birth and others have a life so easy.”

“It’s definitely a mystery.”

“You haven’t exactly been dealt an easy life,” he stated, gently stroking my forearm with his finger. “Dad in prison, mom remarried and you’re alone.”

“I have the Fishers and I’m trying to make friends, but it’s not easy for me because I’m so shy. But you can hardly say my life is difficult compared to your sister’s.”

I took our plates to the sink and scraped the sticky mac and cheese sauce off. The unopened tower of chocolate mint slices was in the cupboard and I displayed them on a plate. They were a little broken, but smelt great. Feeling pleased with myself I took them over to him and his eyebrows shot up in surprise.

“Been baking, Rhys?”

“No. Courtesy of Grandma Fisher in Detroit.”

He took a slice from the plate and examined it before taking a large bite. “Holy fuck! This is fucking good. Grandma Fisher should open a bakery.”

“She said that would take the fun out of baking,” I told him, since many people had suggested she start a baking business. But no, she’d rather give her cookies, cakes and slices away for free.

“What are you afraid of, Rhys?” he asked me.

I faltered at the question coming at me from out of the blue.

“Ummm everything, but mostly people.”

“That’s the real reason why you’re shy, because you’re afraid of people?”

“Yeah.”

I suspected there was an ulterior motive to this seemingly casual conversation. “Do you think people are going to hurt you?”

“Hurt me, abandon me, laugh at me. Maybe they’ll discover I’m an imposter and not that smart or that I’m a…serial killer.”

He snorted when I mentioned ‘serial killer.’ Little did he know that I wasn’t joking.

“I might take after my dad,” I added.

“You’re gonna kill me in my sleep?” he asked, finishing off his slice and reaching for another one.

“No. Too much work having to hide your body.”

“True. But you’re looking at it the wrong way. You’re really funny in a kooky sort of way, smart and gorgeous. They’re attributes that you should share, not keep to yourself. No one is ever going to know who you really are if you keep yourself hidden from them.”

Who I really am? A killer, that’s who I am.

He continued, “In a way it’s selfish.”

“Selfish?!” I exclaimed, snatching the plate of slices away, so he couldn’t eat anymore and rolling off the bed.

He grinned. “Getting prickly. But you know what I mean. No one is going to see the gold when it’s buried in the ground.”

“But the ground has to be raped in order to dig up the gold,” I argued.

“Interesting way to word it, but you know what I mean.”

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