Page 61 of The Gambler's Prize
“Yes. I swear.” I can look him in the eyes, because it’s the truth. “You really thought the Durovians wouldn’t hurt me?”
“Yes.”
He meets my eyes too. He’s telling the truth as well.
Not good enough. I reported him out of spite, but I didn’t even know him then. He was a stranger. Buthim... He dreamed up this whole twisted revenge plot in cold blood, winning me in that game ofafi, knowing exactly who I was the whole time. Forcing me to work for him, eat with him, sleep in his house, taking me to his neighbor’s house as a friend, keeping our history secret all this time. Even as we slept together. I let him stroke my hair, rock me by the hips, slide his cock inside me as he gazed into my eyes. I asked him to spank me. I submitted to him, gladly, joyfully, feeling safer to show my true self than I ever have before. I begged for him.
I need to get away. Far from him and his sick plot. I stand up. Back away. Just leave him sitting at the table, slumped there like an empty burlap sack. All the fight has gone out of him. He looks just what he is: a bitter loser. I can’t believe I ever let him fuck me, and fuck me properly, real and tender, not one of my stolen dalliances with a stranger whose face I’d forget the next day. Why did I trust him? There’s one consolation at least. Grimes will never get his hands on my in-demand ass again. I give him a sashay as I walk away because I know he likes that. Showing him what he’s never going to experience again. Then I hurry into the crowd, before he sees my tears of shame.
I shove my way through the people still thronging the streets. It’s more difficult now I’m alone, without Grimes to lead the way. They don’t part for me like they would for his hulking, terrifying figure. Not that I’m complaining. I don’t need him and his protection. What Ithoughtwas his protection. The whole time I thought he was looking after me, it was all revenge.
“Hey beautiful, are you all right?”
I wipe my eyes and look around to locate the source of the voice. A young Galbravan man is looking at me, concerned. Crying in public, barely looking where I’m going… he can tell I’m a mess. Shame curdles within me. I want to hang my head, but I look up.
“I’m okay,” I say. “Just had a disappointment, but I’ll live.”
I force a smile. The man smiles back. He’s good-looking, with a debonair grin and green eyes. His Galbravan clothes look good on his athletic frame, a rusty-red shawl draped around broad shoulders and up over his head to keep off the sun, and beaded sandals on his feet.
“Whoever it was, they’re crazy to let you slip through their fingers,” he says.
I get a familiar, welcome feeling. The feeling of being desired. It starts to chase my shame as he steps closer to me.
“I’m Hevra,” he says.
“Florian.” I hold out my hand in the Rhennian way, but he ignores it and kisses both of my cheeks, Galbrava-style. His cologne pricks at my nostrils. His grip is firm on my shoulders.
“Delighted to meet you, Florian.” He’s just the right side of flirty without being too pushy. His eyes linger on me, letting me know he likes what he sees.
“And you,” I say.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
No need to ask Grimes’ permission now. I can do what I want now. The young man leads the way to an alcohol stand and orders us both wine.
“My friends are I having a game ofafi,” he says, pointing over to a small crowd. They’re sitting around a table under the awning of a café. “Would you like to join us?”
“Yes, please.”
I push Grimes to the back of my mind as Hevra introduces me to his friends. They’re all about my age, with loud, easy-going manners. A change from Grimes’ taciturnity. It’s easy to make them laugh. I don’t have to wonder what weird mood they’re in. They’re just out for a good time, like normal people, not embittered cranks on a revenge mission. They all welcome me with open arms. But Hevra stays closest. When we form teams forafi, it’s obvious he and I are going to be together. When he puts an arm around me, I let him.
On the café window ledge,kiveflowers nod their heads in a slight breeze. The beating sun softens a little as the afternoon wears on. The slight drop in temperature helps me to relax and to forget the sick feeling in my stomach. This is better. This isme. I have new friends already. I don’t need Grimes; I always fall on my feet.
“Another drink?” Hevra says.
“How about a double?” I say.
Chapter 26
Grimes
Idon’t know how long I sit at the table, lost to the world, replaying everything in my mind. The last years of my life have been based on a lie. All through my prison sentence, all through the months after my release that I spent tracking Florian down, I hated him. I thought he sent me to my dank cell gleefully, with malice and a sense of born superiority. Now I find out the fluffy-headed fool never expected me to go to prison atall. He was just throwing one of his petulant little tantrums, his pride bruised by his beating as well as his body. He wanted me scared, not destroyed.
How naïve, how out of touch, can one man be? Typical Florian. For him and his aristocratic friends, law-breaking is a joke. The authorities are lenient, and if they aren’t, someone’s powerful father has a word. Up there in his sheltered little world in the clouds, of course he thought the same thing would happen to me. Though, in fairness, the authorities might’ve been more lenient with me too if I hadn’t tested them so much in the past. Another thing that Florian couldn’t have known.
If I’m being fair, he has reason to hate me, too. The news about the Durovians came as a shock. I never imagined they would go that far. I imagine bruises on his soft cheeks, his lithe limbs broken because of me, and I shiver. I knew he was the one who reported my bar because the official who came to make the surprise inspection told me, with a glint of malice in his eye. But the man never told me that Florian was so badly beaten. I always assumed he reported me because I kicked him out, allowing the Durovians to wound his pride but little else. I assumed he wanted me ruined on a whim, aristocrat-like, because I had dared to cross him. If I’d known he was so badly hurt, it would have been difficult to blame him for involving the authorities. If I was really the kind of man to set up such a brutal attack intentionally, as he thought, I would've deserved my prison sentence and more.
And then, in retaliation, I forced him into hard, barely paid labor. I mocked him. Controlled every aspect of his life. I became the jailer. So many misunderstandings. Such a mess. My thoughts are going around in circles. With an effort, I bring them to a halt. The sun’s heat has lost its biting intensity now; we’re heading into late afternoon. I shake myself back to reality. I need to find Florian, make sure he’s safe, even if he won’t speak tome. He’s in no mood to wander around alone; he was so upset he might do anything.
