Page 100 of Gambler's Fallacy

Seven finally looks up at us, his face blotchy and red. “I just want them to leave me alone,” he whispers. “I want to havesomething. I was theirs for so long—” He hiccups.

“That’s the thing,” Vortex says quietly. “It’s driving them crazy that they can’t control you. That you might have a good life without them. They’re probably telling themselves all sorts of lies to justify it.”

Cynically, I think that we might be telling ourselves a lot of lies to protect Seven, too.

“My uncle,” Caleb suddenly says. “He used to own the casino. Every chance he could, he’d complain about how much work it was,how it was a drain on his finances, how much he hated it, that it ruined his marriage. I finally convinced him to sell it to me. When I turned it around, when I made it better, suddenly he was there, complaining that I’d essentially scammed him, that it was his hard work that made all this possible. He’s resented it ever since. He can’t stand that I took something he ruined and made it better.” He removes the baseball cap from Seven’s head and sets it aside. “Your family thinks they made you, and they can’t stand the fact that you’re thriving without them.”

Seven shakes his head. “But I can’t even thrive. Because I’m always so scared.”

“You will, though,” Vortex says, moving to sit on the other side of Seven. “Caleb’s going to get it sorted out, and you’ll be safe, then you can do more than survive.” He kisses the top of Seven’s head. “We’re getting there.”

“But,” I add carefully, “I think you do need to quit gambling, Seven.”

Seven tenses. “I don’t want to,” he says.

“It’s time to make your own luck,” Vortex says. “No more gambling. We’ll build you a life so worth having that you won’t even want to gamble. Please let us, Seven.”

I nod, and finally stand up again so I’m not squatting in front of Seven. My knees thank me for it. “We can do any number of things. Watch more shows, head to that mall with the indoor theme park, some fucking mini golf for all I care.”

Vortex’s expression gets weird. “What about the gym? We’ve got a pool, too.”

“And after a workout, you can always go to the spa,” Caleb says. “The facial treatments are very relaxing.”

My lip twitches, imagining Caleb with cucumbers on his eyes and weird cream all over his face. It does remind me of something, though. “Does Seven get paid for his work? Y’know, so he can tip the spa staff.”

“Yes,” Caleb answers immediately. “I have a separate bank account set up where all of his wages get deposited.” He pauses. “It has a credit card attached to it. Do you want me to give it to you? It won’t work for gambling, but you’d be able to buy things with your own money.”

Seven squeezes his eyes closed. “Havoc says I’m getting overpaid for doing nothing,” he mutters.

Vortex and Caleb both glare at me.

I groan and hold up my hands. “No! I mean, if anyone’s getting overpaid, it’s probably me. But I was pissed that you skipped our lunch to gamble instead. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Seven opens his eyes and looks at me. “I’m sorry.” He swallows hard, brushing at the lingering tears that have yet to fall. “I don’t know if I can stop. I… I tried. I really did. But I kept doing it anyway.”

“Since youwantto stop, it won’t be an issue at all that I am now officially banning you from all the tables,” Caleb says. “The only spending money you’ll have is what you earn—which is not too much. You’re essentially earning a bit over minimum wage, Seven.”

Now I scowl at him. “Seriously? You need to pay him more than that! That’s not a living wage in Calamity!”

Caleb scoffs. “It’s a living wage when it includes free room and board, and when his only expenses are a few knick-knacks here and there. We can look at his hourly rate again in a few months, like we would with all employees.”

“I don’t even know what minimum wage is,” Seven says. “Or how to do… bank things.”

“I’ll teach you,” Vortex says. “There are apps for your phone that can help, too.”

Seven slumps back against the couch, and Vortex carefully slides an arm around his shoulders. “Okay.”

Caleb stands up and stretches. “All right. I’ll call down for food. Since I think we’re all starving at this point.”

“That’ll take forever,” I say. “Here, I’ll make us some sandwiches. Do you want to help me, Seven?”

Seven nods. “Yeah, I guess.”

I offer my hand, and he takes it, letting me help him up. He presses against me briefly and leans in so I can kiss him.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

I’m not sure what he’s thanking me for, but I smile at him. “You’re welcome, Seven.”

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