Page 108 of Gambler's Fallacy

Right now, I needhim.

TWENTY-FOUR

HAVOC

I glanceacross the table at Vortex. He’s been acting miserable all day, and it’s pissing me off. “What crawled up your ass?” I ask.

“Fucking drop it,” Vortex growls, stabbing his salad.

We’re in the employee break room, with Madeline at the other end of the table. She tenses at Vortex’s aggressive tone.

I glare at him. “Sheesh. Sorry. Didn’t you get enough yesterday to calm you down?”

“I told you to drop it!” Vortex says, following my gaze toward Madeline. He lowers his voice, but his tone is no less venomous as he adds, “Just because we’re both with Seven doesn’t mean we’re friends. It’s none of your goddamn business.”

Madeline abruptly stands up. “Okay. This is TMI for me.” She stops near the door. “But, just so you know, most of us already figured out that you’re all dating Seven.”

Of course they have. It’s not like we’ve done a good job hiding it.

I wait until Madeline’s out of the room before I turn my attention back to Vortex. “I don’t care if you’re my friend or not, dickwad. I care that you’re making it your business to spread the misery.”

“I’m not—” Vortex makes an aggrieved sound. “What do you want, Havoc? You could walk away, you know.”

With how we’re both fucking Seven, and often work together, I did think we were… fine, notfriends, but people who talked to each other. The other day at the pool had been a lot of fun. I haven’t been that relaxed in ages.

Maybe I am pissed off that he doesn’t want to share with me.

Before I can respond, my phone rings. It’s my mom’s ringtone, so I answer immediately—and in Spanish, so Vortex can’t eavesdrop.

“Hola, Mamá. What’s up?”

There’s a long silence.

“Mamá?” I ask, my bad mood ratcheting higher.

“Can you come home? Please?” my mother asks through sobs. “I need help.”

Fuck. My anger turns into worry. “Yes. I’ll be there in twenty—no, fifteen minutes. Stay on the line?—”

But she hangs up.

I curse, grab my jacket, and check for my car keys.

“What’s—” Vortex begins, but he must remember how thoroughly he’d shut me down when I’d tried to ask him what was wrong because he cuts himself off just as fast. “I’ll tell Caleb you had an emergency.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” I jog all the way to my car, my heart beating faster and faster.

How bad is it that she’s calling me for help?

Is she going to be alive when I get there?

My hands tighten on the steering wheel. I drive as fast as I can, cursing all the slow drivers and pedestrians and the fucking construction going on. It takes me longer than twenty minutes to get to my mom’s house. I don’t even bother locking the car before rushing into the small, single-story house.

The door’s already unlocked, which is a bad sign.

“Mamá!” I shout. “Where are you?”

I hear sobbing from the kitchen, and I make my way there.

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