Page 98 of Gambler's Fallacy

Seven gives me another of those weird looks. “The one in my leg doesn’t turn off, remember? That’s why it’s better than having it in my phone or whatever?” he says, like he’s trying to prompt me. Then his eyes widen slightly, and he says more slowly, “You’re not seriously telling me you don’t know.”

My eyes go down to his legs, but he’s wearing loose jeans. My mind is still trying to parse what he’s saying. A tracker in his leg.

“A tracker,” I repeat, dumbfounded. “What? When?”

He clams up instantly. “Nothing. Never mind.”

I reach out, and this time I don’t let him evade me. I grip his wrist through the oversized sweater. “No. Tell me. What tracker?”

I squeeze harder than I mean to.

“You’re hurting me,” Seven says, squirming in my grasp.

I’m about to speak again when I hear footsteps behind me. I half-turn, still holding onto Seven, when I see Vortex approaching at a jog.

“What’s going on?” he asks, looking between the two of us in alarm.

“A tracker in his leg?” I ask while Seven keeps trying to escape me.

Vortex shakes his head. “We’re not talking about that right here. Is that what’s going on? Seven, you should’ve told me you were upset. I thought we talked about this.” He glances around us. “This is making a scene. Upstairs. Now.”

Part of mewantsto make a scene. Whatever they did to Seven, it messed him up bad. I’m so fucking angry that I want to punch somebody—preferably Vortex or Caleb.

But seeing Seven’s panicked expression, I know it’s not going to help if I flip out now.

I let go of his wrist and take a few long breaths. “Okay. Let’s all go upstairs. I really want to know what the fuck you two did to him.”

Vortex’s jaw sets hard. “Yes. Upstairs.” He goes to slide an arm around Seven, but like with me, Seven moves away. He starts heading toward the hotel, though, even though he has his arms hugged against his chest.

I glare at Vortex, but he’s already following Seven.

I’m inwardly raging, and it doesn’t help that others are in the elevator with us, making the trip upstairs seem to take forever.

As soon as we’re inside, Seven starts to make a beeline toward his bedroom, but Vortex grabs his arm. “Caleb is on his way, too,” he informs us. “Seven, go sit down.”

“Oh, good,” I mutter. “Let’s see how Caleb talks his way out of this one.”

“There’s nothing to talk his way out of,” Vortex says, letting go of Seven. Seven goes to the couch, sinking down onto it, but his expression is dark. “Yes, we put a tracker in Seven’s leg after the Lockwoods tried to force Caleb to agree to hand him over.”

Everything comes to a screeching halt.

While I’m processing this new information, the front door opens and Caleb lets himself inside.

“The Lockwoods were here?” I ask, looking between Vortex and Seven. “What the fuck? Did they touch Seven? Are you okay?”

Seven shudders, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he stares down at the carpet, hugging his knees against his chest.

“Yeah, she actually physically touched Seven. In public,” Vortex says, and his voice vibrates with anger, too. “Then tried to threaten Caleb over the whole fucking MMA fight. Like he’s really going to let Seven goanywhere with them.”

Caleb coughs. “Before you get too excited, Havoc, it was a light touch. She scared Seven, but she didn’t harm him. Still concerning, of course.” He loosens his tie as he approaches us. “So we decided it would be safest if we could always track Seven. I’ll share the app with you too, Havoc.”

“I don’t want your fucking app!” I shout at him. “What the fuck! You realize how fucking creepy this is? You’re tracking him like a fucking animal!”

Vortex glares at me. “We’re aware he’s not a fucking animal,” he snaps. “But his safety is more important than anything else.”

Through it all, Seven stays quiet, still huddled there on the couch like he’s scared we’re going to turn our attention onto him next.

I crouch down in front of Seven. “Hey, Seven. Look at me. Please, tell me the truth. If you want to get rid of the thing, I’ll take you out of here right now and we can have a doctor cut it out.”

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