Page 9 of Devious Gambit

“Oh. I assumed you’d be going home for Christmas,” I said, holding back my disappointment.

“That’s another thing. Patty and her new boyfriend were thinking about heading out west for Christmas if I wasn’t going home.”

“Oh.” Was all I could say.

“But maybe you could go back home to see your mom,” he suggested.

I cringed. My mom, Lu, remarried when I was 12 years old to a widower with three little kids. He asked her to marry him only 6 months into the relationship, and I suspected it was because he needed an unpaid nanny for his kids. Mom and I were as thick as thieves, until he came along with rowdy kids and their snotty noses, and ruined everything. I couldn’t stand living in that house with all that noise and clutter, and Patty asked if I wanted to move to KV to be with them for a while. A few months turned into two years and I made an effort to merge beautifully into the Fisher family. I was painfully quiet, kept my nose clean, and helped around the house, so they wouldn’t send me back.

“Maybe I’ll just stay here,” I stated. “I’ve probably got shifts at Stads anyway, since everyone else will be going away for the holidays.”

He frowned. “You can’t stay here alone. I’ll ask Lise if you can come over for Christmas dinner-”

“- No, it’s okay. I’ll sort something out.” It was time to change the subject, I hated talking about family, since mine was a massive failure. My useless father left when I was two years old and never contacted me once, and my mom was living a lie, pretending to be happily married. Ick. Not me. If I ever marry, which was highly unlikely, it’ll be for love.

I placed the shoebox on the kitchen bench, unopened, because my enthusiasm had waned. “Do you want to stay for a coffee?” I asked, hoping he would. “We could watch TV.” Hanging out with Tris was a rarity, especially recently. He’s never alone, either with Lise or Hayden or one of his dorm mates at Kepler Hall. That’s the thing with Tris, he’s never without a friend or girlfriend, people just loved him.

He glanced to the side and rubbed the scar at the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable. “Ah, I have to-”

“-That’s okay,” I assured him, holding back the tears. “You’ve got somewhere to go.”

“Yeah, I got-”

“-No need to explain.”

Guilt washed across his handsomely, rugged face, and I immediately felt bad. I wanted people to hang out with me because they wanted to, not because they felt sorry for me.

“I’ve got an assignment to do anyway,” I told him. “So, I better get on with it.”

He lunged forward and hugged me in typical Tris style, which was tight and loving, but way too short. Again, I held back my tears, letting them flow down my cheeks once he was gone. I crawled into bed early, and cocooned myself in blankets to shield me from the chill of Winter and rejection. No matter how many times I’m rejected, it still hurt like razor blades slashing the lining of my stomach. I should be used to it by now. Hell, I’ve been rejected enough times I could write my own tragicomedy.

And Tris wonders why I don’t let myself get close to people. Acting detached and aloof had worked for me up until now, so why change. A ghost drifting in and out of class, completely unnoticed, that’s me.

Wiping the hot tears from my cheeks with the back of my hand, I remembered my phone beeped earlier. I rolled out of bed and grabbed it from my bag, assuming it was Tris asking if I was home.

To my surprise, it was from an unknown number. I opened the message: KEEP YOU’RE MOUTH SHUT!!

“You hadn’t spelt ‘your’ correctly, imbecile,” I hissed and threw my phone to the floor, where it split into three parts when it landed. The screen was cracked and the back refused to close properly and the battery flies out, all because that bozo Sweeney thought he could intimidate me.

“Dumbass.”

He said he knew where I lived.

“I don’t care.” I felt so low and alone, I couldn’t care less if he turned up now and killed me. “Good on him. No one will notice me gone anyway.”

FOUR

Jace

“Several photographs going back decades were found and handed over to police,” Thomas Buchanan, the newly elected president of the Snake and Chalice informed us. We Bloodz sat at the back of the chamber, which is located in the basement of the Benedictus Athenaeum. The only way the gatekeeper would let us in was if we wore the ring and showed him the text message sent with the meeting date and time. Fuck, we’ve attended enough of those asshole meetings for the gatekeeper to remember us, but still had to perform the ritual. The gatekeeper’s job is to also confiscate our phones, so we don’t record any conversations that take place. Their biggest fear, in my opinion, is losing the mystery associated with the gatherings. Once non-members realize nothing interesting happens, the society will lose its magic.

Buchanan continued, “Unfortunately, they were taken from an old S and C member who was keeper of the photographs…and is now serving time for murder, Robert Fontaine.”

I glanced at Cody who had his eyes forward watching intently as Buchanan spoke.

“Dirty ol’ Fontaine,” I whispered.

“The contents are somewhat sordid of nature, which was why they were handed over to police,” Buchanan explained.

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